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AUTOBIOGRAPHY &c. OF MRS. PIOZZI
VOL. L
JLOXDOJC
ISIKIED BY SP01TISWOOBB AND CO.
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MRS. PIOZZI <TH<
VOL. I.
AUTOBIOGRAPHY
MRS. PIOZZI (THRALE) ;
**f*
EDITED WITH NOTES
AND .
AN INTRODUCTORY ACCOUNT OF HER LIFE AND WHITINGS
A. HAYWAED, ESQ. Q.C.
Welcome, Associate Forms, where'er we turn ;
Fill, Streatham's Hebe, the Johnsonian urn St. Stephen's
In Two Volumes
VOL. I.
LONDON
LONGMAN, GREEN, LONGMAN, AND ROBERTS
1861
CONTENTS
THE FIRST VOLUME.
Page
INTRODUCTION : LIFE AND WHITINGS OF MBS. PIOZ/I . . 1
AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIKS ..... 235
Her Story of her Life . . . . . .238
Introduction to Piozzi . . . . . . 268
Domestic Trials . . . . . .271
Second Marriage ...... 275
Residence in Italy . . . . . .281
Miss Streatfield . . . . . .296
Thrale's Illness . . . . . .299
His Death 302
Dr. Collier . . . . . . .305
NOTES ON " LETTERS To AND FROM DR. JOHNSON," including new
Anecdotes of Johnson and his Cotemporaries . . . 308
NOTES ON WKAXALI/S " HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF MY OWN TIME,"
including the true Story of the Lyttelton Ghost and Anecdotes
of various Literary and Political Celebrities . . .327
ERRATA IN VOL. I.
p. 115, 1. 16, for " impovershing " read " impoverishing."
118, 1. 7, for "constantly" read "frequently."
130, 1. 4 from the bottom, for " antt, p. 53" read " antl, p. 100."
137, 1. 21, for "suffered" read "supposed."
142, 1. 17, read "if" before "you."
175, 1. 7 from the bottom, dele "repeatedly."
177, in the second couplet quoted, for " there" read " three."
296, note, for " Cadnus " read " Cadenus."
AUTOBIOGRAPHY, &c.
MES. PIOZZI.
YOL. I. B
'7
INTRODUCTION:
LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
DR. JOHNSON has been hailed by acclamation the li-
terary colossus of an epoch when the galaxy of British
authorship sparkled with the names of Hume, Kobert-
son, Gibbon, Warburton, the Wartons, Fielding, Kichard-
son, Smollett, Gray, Goldsmith, and Burke. Any one
of these may have surpassed the great lexicographer in
some one branch of learning or domain of genius ; but
as a man of letters, in the highest sense of the term,
he towered pre-eminent, and his superiority to each of
them (except Burke) in general acquirements, intellec-
tual power, and force of expression, was hardly con-
tested by his cotemporaries. To be associated with his
name has become a title of distinction in itself; and
some members of his circle enjoy, and have fairly earned,
a peculiar advantage in this respect. In their capacity
of satellites revolving round the sun of their idolatry,
they attracted and reflected his light and heat. As
humble companions of their Magnolia grandiflora,
they did more than live with it * ; they gathered and
* u Je ne suis pas la rose, mais j'ai v6cu avec elle." Constant,
B 2
4 LIFE AND WHITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
preserved the choicest of its flowers. Thanks to
them, his reputation is kept alive more by what has
been saved of his conversation than by his books ; and
his colloquial exploits necessarily revive the memory
of the friends (or victims) who elicited and recorded
them.
If the two most conspicuous amongst these have
hitherto gained notoriety rather than what is commonly
understood by fame, a discriminating posterity is al-
ready beginning to make reparation for the wrong.
BoswelPs " Letters to Temple," edited by Mr. Francis,
with " Boswelliana," printed for the Philobiblion Society
by Mr. Milnes, led, in 1857, to a revisal of the harsh
sentence passed on one whom the most formidable of
his censors, Lord Macaulay, has declared to be not less
decidedly the first of biographers, than Homer is the
first of heroic poets, Shakspeare the first of dramatists,
or Demosthenes the first of orators. The result was
eminently favourable to Boswell, although the vulner-
able points of his character were still more glaringly
displayed. The appeal about to be hazarded on be-
half of Mrs. Piozzi, will involve little or no risk of
this kind. Her ill-wishers made the most of the
event which so injuriously affected her reputation at
the time of its occurrence ; and the marked tendency
of every additional disclosure of the circumstances has
been to elevate her. No candid person will read her
Autobiography, or her Letters, without arriving at the
conclusion that her long life was morally, if not con-
ventionally, irreproachable; and that her talents were
HER LITERARY REMAINS. ft
sufficient to confer on her writings a value and attrac-
tion of their own, apart from what they possess as
illustrations of a period or a school. When the papers
out of which these volumes are principally composed
were laid before Lord Macaulay, he gave it as his
opinion that they afforded materials for a " most inte-
resting and durably popular volume."
They comprise :
1. Autobiographical Memoirs.
2. Letters, mostly addressed to the late Sir James
Fellowes.
3. Fugitive pieces of her composition, most of which
have never appeared in print.
4. Manuscript notes by her on Wraxall's Memoirs,
and on her own published works, namely : " Anecdotes
of the late Samuel Johnson, LL.D., during the last
twenty years of his life," one volume, 1786 : " Letters
to and from the late Samuel Johnson, LL.D., &c.," in
two volumes, 1788: "Observations and Keflections
made in the course of a Journey through France, Italy,
and Germany," in two volumes, 1789: "Retrospec-
tion; or, Review of the most striking and important
Events, Characters, Situations, and their Consequences
which the last Eighteen Hundred Years have presented
to the View of Mankind," in two volumes, quarto,
1801.
The " Autobiographical Memoirs," and the annotated
books, were given by her to the late Sir James Fellowes,
of Adbury House, Hants, M.D., F.R.S., to whom the
letters were addressed. He and the late Sir John Piozzi
B 3
6 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
Salusbury were her executors, and the present publica-
tion takes place in pursuance of an agreement with
their personal representatives, the Kev. Gr. A. Salusbury,
Eector of Westbury, Salop, and Captain J. Butler
Fellowes.
Valuable additions to the original stock of materials
have reached me since the announcement of the work.
The Eev. Dr. Wellesley, the Principal of New Inn
Hall, has kindly placed at my disposal his copy of Bos-
well's "Life of Johnson," (edition of 1815), plentifully
sprinkled with marginal notes by Mrs. Piozzi. The Kev.
Samuel Lysons, of Hempsted Court, Gloucester, has
liberally allowed me the free use of his valuable col-
lection of books and manuscripts, including numerous
letters from Mrs. Piozzi to his father and uncle, the
Eev. Daniel Lysons and Mr. Samuel Lysons, the friend
and correspondent of Johnson ; and I shall have many
more obligations to acknowledge as I proceed.
From 1776 to 1809 Mrs. Piozzi kept a copious
diary and note-book, called " Thraliana." Johnson
thus alludes to it in a letter of September 6th, 1777:
" As you have little to do, I suppose you are pretty
diligent at the 'Thraliana;' and a very curious col-
lection posterity will find it. Do not remit the practice
of writing down occurrences as they arise, of whatever
kind, and be very punctual in annexing the dates.
Chronology, you know, is the eye of history. Do not
omit painful casualties or unpleasing passages; they
make the variegation of existence ; and there are many
passages of which I will not promise, with JEneas, et
INTRODUCTION TO JOHNSON. 7
hcec olim meminisse juvabit" ' Thraliana,' which at
one time she thought of burning, is now in the posses-
sion of Mr. Salusbury, who deems it of too private and
delicate a character to be submitted to strangers, but
has kindly supplied me with some curious passages and
much valuable information extracted from it.'
Unless Mrs. Piozzi's character and social position are
freshly remembered, her reminiscences and literary re-
mains will lose much of their interest and utility. It
has, therefore, been thought advisable to recapitulate,
by way of introduction, what has been ascertained from
other sources concerning her ; especially during her in-
timacy with Johnson, which lasted nearly twenty years,
and exercised a marked influence on his tone of
mind.
"This year (1765)," says Boswell, "was distinguished
by his (Johnson) being introduced into the family of Mr.
Thrale, one of the most eminent brewers in England,
and member of Parliament for the borough of South-
wark. . . Johnson used to give this account of the
rise of Mr. Thrale's father : ' He worked at six shillings a
week for twenty years in the great brewery, which after-
wards was his own. The proprietor of it had an only
daughter, who was married to a nobleman. It was not
fit that a peer should continue the business. On the
old man's death, therefore, the brewery was to be sold.
To find a purchaser for so large a property was a diffi-
cult matter; and, after some time, it was suggested,
B 4
8 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
that it would be advisable to treat with Thrale, a sen-
sible, active, honest man, who had been employed in
the house, and to transfer the whole to him for thirty
thousand pounds, security being taken upon the pro-
perty. This was accordingly settled. In eleven years
Thrale paid the purchase-money. He acquired a large
fortune, and lived to be a member of Parliament for
Southwark. But what was most remarkable was the
liberality with which he used his riches. He gave his
son and daughters the best education. The esteem
which his good conduct procured him from the noble-
man who had married his master's daughter, made him
be treated with much attention ; and his son, both at
school and at the university of Oxford, associated with
young men of the first rank. His allowance from his
father, after he left college, was splendid ; not less than
a thousand a year. This, in a man who had risen as
old Thrale did, was a very extraordinary instance of
generosity. He used to say, 'If this young dog does
not find so much after I am gone as he expects, let
him remember that he has had a great deal in my
own time.' "
What is here stated regarding Thrale's origin, cm
the alleged authority of Johnson, is incorrect. The
elder Thrale was the nephew of Halsey, the proprietor
of the brewery whose daughter was married to a noble-
man (Lord Cobham), and he naturally nourished hopes
of being his uncle's successor. In the Abbey Church
of St. Albans, there is a monument to some members of
the Thrale family who died between 1676 and 1704,
THE THRALES. 9
adorned with a shield of arms and a crest on a ducal
coronet. Mrs. Thrale's marginal note on Boswell's ac-
count of her husband's family is curious and cha-
racteristic :
" Edmund Halsey was son to a miller at St. Albans,
with whom he quarrelled, like Ealph in the ' Maid of
the Mill,' and ran away to London with a very few
shillings in his pocket. He was eminently handsome,
and old Child, of the Anchor Brewhouse, Southwark,
took him in as what we call a broomstick clerk, to
sweep the yard, &c. Edmund Halsey behaved so well
he was soon preferred to be a house-clerk, and then,
having free access to his master's table, married his only
daughter, and succeeded to the business upon Child's
demise. Being now rich and prosperous, he turned his
eyes homewards, where he learned that sister Sukey
had married a hardworking man at Offley in Hert-
fordshire, and had many children. He sent for one of
them to London (my Mr. Thrale's father) ; said he
would make a man of him, and did so : but made him
work very hard, and treated him very roughly, Halsey
being more proud than tender, and his only child, a
daughter, married to Lord Cobham.
" Old Thrale, however, as these fine writers call him,
then a young fellow, and, like his uncle, eminent for
personal beauty, made himself so useful to Mr. Halsey
that the weight of the business fell entirely on him;
and while Edmund was canvassing the borough and
visiting the viscountess, Ealph Thrale was getting
money both for himself and his principal ; who, envious
10 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
of his success with a wench they both liked, but who
preferred the young man to the old one, died, leaving
him never a guinea, and he bought the brewhouse of
Lord and Lady Cobham, making an excellent bargain,
with the money he had saved."
When, in the next page but one, Boswell describes
Thrale as presenting the character of a plain indepen-
dent English squire, she writes : " No, no ! Mr. Thrale's
manners presented the character of a gay man of the
town: like Millamant, in Congreve's comedy, he ab-
horred the country and e/ery thing in it."
In " Thraliana " after a corresponding statement, she
adds : " He (the elder Thrale) educated his son and three
daughters quite in a high style. His son he wisely
connected with the Cobhams and their relations, Grren-
villes, Lyttletons, and Pitts, to whom he lent money,
and they lent assistance of every other kind, so that my
Mr. Thrale was bred up at Stowe, and Stoke, and Ox-
ford, and every genteel place ; had been abroad with
Lord Westcote, whose expenses old Thrale cheerfully
paid, I suppose, who was thus a kind of tutor to the
young man, who had not .failed to profit by these ad-
vantages, and who was, when he came down to Offley
to see his father's birthplace, a very handsome and well
accomplished gentleman."
After expatiating on the advantages of birth, and the
presumption of new men in attempting to found a new
system of gentility, Boswell proceeds : " Mr. Thrale had
married Miss Hester Lynch Salusbury, of good Welsh
extraction, a lady of lively talents, improved by edu-
INTRODUCTION TO JOHNSON. 11
cation. That Johnson's introduction into Mr. Thrale's
family, which contributed so much to the happiness of
his life, was owing to her desire for his conversation, is
a very probable and the general supposition : but it is
not the truth. Mr. Murphy, who was intimate with
Mr. Thrale, having spoken very highly of Dr. Johnson,
he was requested to make them acquainted. This being
mentioned to Johnson, he accepted of an invitation to
dinner at Thrale's, and was so much pleased with his
reception, both by Mr. and Mrs. Thrale, and they so
much pleased with him, that his invitations to their
house were more and more frequent, till at last he be-
came one of the family, and an apartment was appro-
priated to him, both in their house at Southwark and in
their villa at Streatham."
Boswell was jealous of Mrs. Thrale (as it is most
convenient to call her till her second marriage) as a
rival biographer, and lost no opportunity of depreciat-
ing her. He might at least, however, have stated that
instead of sanctioning the " general supposition " as to
the introduction, she herself supplied the account of it
which he adopts. In her " Anecdotes " she says :
"The first time I ever saw this extraordinary man
was in the year 1764, when Mr. Murphy, who had
long been the friend and confidential intimate of Mr.
Thrale, persuaded him to wish for Johnson's conver-
sation, extolling it in terms which that of no other
person could have deserved, till we were only in doubt
how to obtain his company, and find an excuse for
the invitation. The celebrity of Mr. Woodhouse, a
12 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
shoemaker, whose verses were at that time the sub-
ject of common discourse, soon afforded a pretence,
and Mr. Murphy brought Johnson to meet him, giv-
ing me general caution not to be surprised at his
figure, dress, or behaviour. . . . Mr. Johnson liked
his new acquaintance so much, however, that from that
time he dined with us every Thursday through the
winter, and in the autumn of the next year he followed
us to Brighthelmstone, whence we were gone before his
arrival ; so he was disappointed and enraged, and wrote
us a letter expressive of anger, which we were very
desirous to pacify, and to obtain his company again if
possible. Mr. Murphy brought him back to us again
very kindly, and from that time his visits grew more
frequent, till in the year 1766 his health, which he had
always complained of, grew so exceedingly bad, that
he could not stir out of his room in the court he in-
habited for many weeks together, I think months."
It is strange that they should differ about the date of
the introduction by a year. She goes on to say that
when she and her husband called on Johnson one
morning in this court (Johnson's Court, Fleet Street),
he gave way to such an uncontrolled burst of despair
regarding the world to come, that Mr. Thrale tried to
stop his mouth by placing one hand before it, and
before leaving him desired her to prevail on him to
quit his close habitation for a period and come with
them to Streatham. He complied, and took up his
abode with them from before Midsummer till after
Michaelmas in that year. During the next sixteen
JOHNSON'S HABITS. 13
years a room in their house was set apart for
him.
The principal difficulty at first was to induce him to
live peaceably with her mother, who took a strong
dislike to him, and constantly led the conversation to
topics which he detested, such as foreign news and
politics. He revenged himself by writing to the news-
papers accounts of events which never happened, for
the sole purpose of mystifying her ; and probably more
than one of his mischievous fictions have passed current
for history. They made up their differences before her
death, and a Latin epitaph of the most eulogistic order
from his pen is inscribed upon her tomb.
It had been well for Mrs. Thrale and her guests if
there had existed no more serious objection to Johnson
as an inmate. At the commencement of the acquaint-
ance, he was fifty-six ; an age when habits are ordinarily
fixed ; and many of his were of a kind which it re-
quired no common temper and tact to tolerate or con-
trol. They had been formed at a period when he was
frequently subjected to the worst extremities of humili-
ating poverty and want. He describes Savage, without
money to pay for a night's lodging in a cellar, walking
about the streets till he was weary, and -sleeping in the
summer upon a bulk or in the winter amongst the
ashes of a glass-house. He was Savage's associate on
more than one occasion of the sort. Whilst at college,
he threw away the shoes which were left at his door to
replace the worn-out pair in which he appeared daily.
His clothes were in so tattered a state whilst he was
14 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
writing for the " Gentleman's Magazine " that, instead
of taking his seat at Cave's table, he sate behind a screen
and had his victuals sent to him.
Talking of the symptoms of Christopher Smarts
madness, he said, " Another charge was that he did
not love clean linen ; and I have no passion for it."
In general his wigs were very shabby, and their fore-
parts were burned away by the near approach of the
candle, which his short-sightedness rendered necessary
in reading. At Streatham, Mr. Thrale's valet had
always a better wig ready, with which he met Johnson
at the parlour door when dinner was announced, and
as he went up stairs to bed, the same man followed him
with another.
One of his applications to Cave for a trifling advance
of money is signed Impransus ; and he told Boswell that
he could fast two days without inconvenience, and had
never been hungry but once. "What he meant by hungry
is not easy to explain, for his every day manner of eating
was that of a half-famished man. When at table, he
was totally absorbed in the business of the moment ; his
looks were riveted to his plate, till he had satisfied his
appetite ; which was indulged with such intenseness,'
that the veins of his forehead swelled, and generally a
strong perspiration was visible. Until he left off drink-
ing fermented liquors altogether, he acted on the maxim
" claret for boys, port for men, brandy for heroes."
He preferred the strongest because he said it did its
work (i. e. intoxicate) the soonest. He used to pour
capillaire into his port wine, and melted butter into his
JOHNSON'S HABITS. 15
chocolate. His favourite dishes are accurately enu-
merated by Peter Pindar :
MADAME PIOZZI (loquitur).
(< Dear Doctor Johnson lov'd a leg of pork,
And hearty on it would his grinders work :
He lik'd to eat it so much over done,
That one might shake the flesh from off the bone.
A veal pye too, with sugar cramm'd and plums,
Was wond'rous grateful to the Doctor's gums.
Though us'd from morn to night on fruit to stuff,
He vow'd his belly never had enough."
Mr. Thackeray relates in his " Irish Sketches" that
on his asking for currant jelly for his venison at a
public dinner, the waiter replied, " It's all gone, your
honour, but there's some capital lobster sauce left."
This would have suited Johnson equally well, or better ;
he was so fond of lobster sauce that he would call for
the sauce-boat and pour the whole of its remaining
contents over his plum-pudding. A clergyman who once
travelled with him relates, " The coach halted as usual
for dinner, which seemed to be a deeply interesting
business to Johnson, who vehemently attacked a dish of
stewed carp, using his fingers only in feeding himself."
With all this he affected great nicety of palate, and
did not like being asked to a plain dinner. " It was a
good dinner enough," he would remark, "but it was
not a dinner tp ask a man to." He was so displeased
with the performances of a nobleman's French cook,
that he exclaimed with vehemence, " I'd throw such a
rascal into the river;" and in reference to one of his
16 LIFE AND WETTINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
Edinburgh hosts he said, '"As for Maclaurin's imita-
tion of a made dish, it was a wretched attempt."
His voice was loud, and his gesticulations, volun-
tary or involuntary, singularly uncouth. He had super-
stitious fancies about crossing thresholds or squares in
the carpet with the right or left leg foremost, and when
he did not appear at dinner, might be found vainly
endeavouring to pass a particular spot in the anteroom.
He loved late hours, or more properly (says Mrs.
Thrale) hated early ones. Nothing was more terrifying
to him than the idea of going to bed, which he never
would call going to rest, or suffer another to call it so.
" I lie down that my acquaintance may sleep ; but I lie
down to endure oppressive misery, and soon rise again
to pass the night in anxiety and pain." When people
could be induced to sit up with him, they were often
amply compensated by his rich flow of mind ; but the
resulting sacrifice of health and comfort in an establish-
ment where this sitting up became habitual, was in-
evitably great.* Instead of being grateful, he always
maintained that no one forbore his own gratification
for the purpose of pleasing another, and "if one did
sit up, it was probably to amuse oneself." Boswell
excuses his wife for not coinciding in his enthusiasm,
by admitting that his illustrious friend's irregular hours
and uncouth habits, such as turning the candles with
* Dr. Burney states that in 1765 u he very frequently met John-
son at Streatham, where they had many long conversations, after
sitting up as long as the fire and candles lasted, and much longer
than the patience of the servants subsisted."
JOHNSONS HOUSEHOLD. 17
their ends downwards when they did not burn bright
enough, and letting the wax drop upon the carpet, could
not but be displeasing to a lady. He was generally last
at breakfast, but one morning happened to be first and
waited some time alone ; when afterwards twitted by
Mrs. Thrale with irregularity, he replied, " Madam, I
do not like to come down to vacuity."
If his early familiarity with all the miseries of desti-
tution, aggravated by disease, had increased his natural
roughness and irritability, on the other hand it had
helped largely to bring out his sterling virtues, his dis-
criminating charity, his genuine benevolence, his well-
timed generosity, his large-hearted sympathy with real
suffering or sorrow. He said it was enough to make a
plain man sick to hear pity lavished on a family reduced
by losses to exchange a palace for a comfortable cot-
tage ; and when condolence was demanded for a lady of
rank in mourning for a baby, he contrasted her with a
washerwoman with half-a-dozen children dependent on
her daily labour for their daily bread. *
Lord Macaulay thus portrays the objects of John-
son's hospitality as soon as he had got a house to cover
them. " It was the home of the most extraordinary
assemblage of inmates that ever was brought together.
At the head of the establishment he had placed an old
lady named Williams, whose chief recommendations
* " It's weel wi 1 you gentles that can sit in the house wi' hand-
kerchers at your een when ye lose a friend ; but the like o' us
maun to our wark again, if our hearts were beating as hard as any
hammer." The Antiquary.
VOL. I. C
18 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
were her blindness and her poverty. But in spite of
her murmurs and reproaches, he gave an asylum to
another lady who was as poor as herself, Mrs. Desmou-
lins, whose family he had known many years before in
Staffordshire. Room was found for the daughter of
Mrs. Desmoulins, and for another destitute damsel, who
was generally addressed as Mrs. Carmichael, but whom
her generous host called Polly. An old quack doctor
called Levet, who bled and dosed coalheavers and
hackney coachmen, and received for fees crusts of bread,
bits of bacon, glasses of gin, and sometimes a little
copper, completed this menagerie." *
It is strange that Lord Macaulay should have given
this depreciating description of Levet, having, as he
must have had, Johnson's lines " On the Death of
Mr. Robert Levet, a Practiser in Physic," full in his
recollection :
" "Well try'd through many a varying year,
See Levet to the grave descend,
Officious, innocent, sincere,
Of every friendless name the friend.
Yet still he fills affection's eye,
Obscurely wise and coarsely kind ;
Nor, letter'd Arrogance, deny
Thy praise to merit unrefin'd."
This picture of Johnson's interior is true in the main,
when it is added that the inmates of his house were
quarrelling from morning to night with one another,
* Miscellaneous Writings, vol. i. p. 293.
JOHNSON S HOUSEHOLD. 19
with his Degro servant, or with himself. In one of his
letters to Mrs. Thrale, he says, " Williams hates every-
body : Levet hates Desmoulins, and does not love
Williams: Desmoulins hates them both: Poll (Miss
Carmichael) loves none of them." In a conversation at
Streatham, reported by Madame D'Arblay, the mena-
gerie was thus humorously described :
" Mrs. Thrale. Mr. Levet, I suppose, Sir, has the
office of keeping the hospital in health ? for he is an
apothecary.
" Dr. J. Levet, Madam, is a brutal fellow, but I
have a good regard for him ; for his brutality is in his
manners, not his mind.
" Mr. Thrale. But how do you get your dinners
drest ?
" Dr. J. Why De Mullin has the chief management
of the kitchen ; but our roasting is not magnificent, for
we have no jack.
" Mr. T. No jack ? Why how do they manage
without ?
" Dr. J. Small joints, I believe, they manage with
a string, and larger are done at the tavern. I have
some thoughts (with a profound gravity) of buying a
jack, because I think a jack is some credit to a house.
" Mr. T. Well, but you'll have a spit, too ?
" Dr. J. No, Sir, no ; that would be superfluous ;
for we shall never use it ; and if a jack is seen, a spit
will be presumed !
" Mrs. T. But pray, Sir, who is the Poll you talk
of? She that you used to abet in her quarrels with
c 2
20 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
Mrs. Williams, and call out, * At her again, Poll ! Never
flinch, Poll!'
" Dr. J. Why I took to Poll very well at first, but
she won't do upon a nearer examination.
" Mrs. T. How came she among you, Sir ?
" Dr. J. Why I don't rightly remember, but we
could spare her very well from us. Poll is a stupid
slut; I had some hopes of her at first; but when I
talked to her tightly and closely, I could make nothing
of her ; she was wiggle waggle, and I could never per-
suade her to be categorical."
The effect of an unbroken residence with such in-
mates, on a man of irritable temper subject to morbid
melancholy, may be guessed ; and the merit of the
Thrales in rescuing him from it, and in soothing down
his asperities, can hardly be over-estimated. Lord
Macaulay says, they were flattered by finding that a
man so widely celebrated preferred their house to every
other in London (where, by the way, very few of the
same class were then open to him), and suggests that even
the peculiarities which seemed to unfit him for civilised
society, including his gesticulations, his rollings, his
puffings, his mutterings, and the ravenous eagerness with
which he devoured his food, increased the interest which
his new associates took in him. His hostess does not
appear to have viewed them in that light, and she was
able to command the best company of the intellectual
order without the aid of a " lion," or a bear. If his
conversation attracted many, it drove away some, and
silenced more. He accounted for the little attention
JOHNSON'S SOCIETY. 21
paid him by the great, by saying that " great lords and
great ladies do not like to have their mouths stopped,"
as if this was peculiar to them as a class. " My leddie,"
remarks Cuddie in " Old Mortality," " canna weel bide
to be contradicted, as I ken naebody likes, if they could
help themselves."
Johnson was in the zenith of his fame when litera-
ture, politics, and fashion began to blend together again
by hardly perceptible shades, like the colours in shot-
silk, as they had partially done in the Augustan age of
Queen Anne. One marked sign was the formation of
the Literary Club (The Club, as it still claims to be
called), which brought together such men as Fox,
Burke, Gibbon, Johnson, Goldsmith, Grarrick, Reynolds,
and Beauclerc, besides blackballing a bishop (the Bishop
of Chester), and a lord-chancellor (Camden). Yet it is
curious to observe within how narrow a circle of good
houses the Doctor's engagements were restricted. Rey-
nolds, Paoli, Beauclerc, Allan Ramsay, Hoole, Dilly,
Strahan, Lord Lucan, Langton, Grarrick, and the Club
formed his main reliance as regards dinners ; and we
find Boswell recording with manifest symptoms of
exultation in 1781 : "I dined with him at a bishop's,
where were Sir Joshua Reynolds, Mr. Berenger, and
some more company. He had dined the day before
at another bishop's." His reverence for the episcopal
bench well merited some return on their part. Mr.
Seward saw him presented to the Archbishop of York,
and described his bow to an Archbishop as such a
studied elaboration of homage, such an extension of
c 3
22 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
limb, such a flexion of body, as have seldom or ever
been equalled. The lay nobility were not equally
grateful, although his deference for the peerage was
extreme. Except in Scotland or on his travels, he is
seldom found dining with a nobleman.
Soon after his domestication at Streatham, the Blue
Stocking Clubs came into fashion, so called from a
casual allusion to the blue stockings of an lidbitue,
Mr. Stillingfleet. Their founders were Mrs. Vesey and
Mrs. Montagu ; but according to Madame D'Arblay,
" more bland and more gleeful than that of either of
them, was the personal celebrity of Mrs. Thrale. Mrs.
Vesey, indeed, gentle and diffident, dreamed not of any
competition, but Mrs. Montagu and Mrs. Thrale had
long been set up as rival candidates for colloquial emi-
nence, and each of them thought the other alone worthy
to be her peer. Openly therefore when they met, they
combated for precedence of admiration, with placid
though high-strained intellectual exertion on the one
side, and an exuberant pleasantry or classical allusion
or quotation on the other ; without the smallest malice
in either."
Wraxall, who makes the same comparison, remarks :
" Mrs. Thrale always appeared to me to possess at least
as much information, a mind as cultivated, and more
brilliancy of intellect than Mrs. Montagu, but she did
not descend among men from such an eminence, and
she talked much more, as well as more unguardedly, on
every subject. She was the provider and conductress of
Johnson, who lived almost constantly under her roof, or
JOHNSON WITH WOMEN. 23
more properly under that of Mr. Thrale, both in Town
and at Streatham. He did not, however, spare her more
than other women in his attacks if she courted and
provoked his animadversions."
Although he seldom appeared to greater advantage
than when under the combined spell of feminine in-
fluence and rank, his demeanour varied with his mood.
On Miss Monkton's (afterwards Lady Cork) insisting,
one evening, that Sterne's writings were very pathetic,
Johnson bluntly denied it. " I am sure," she rejoined,
"they have affected me." "Why," said Johnson, smiling
and rolling himself about, "that is because, dearest,
you're a dunce." When she some time afterwards men-
tioned this to him, he said, with equal truth and
politeness, " Madam, if I had thought so, I certainly
should not have said it."
He did not come off so well on another occasion,
when the presence of women whom he respected might
be expected to operate as a check. Talking, at Mrs.
Grarrick's, of a very respectable author, he told us,
says Boswell, " a curious circumstance in his life, which
was that he had married a printer's devil. Reynolds.
t A printer's devil, Sir ! why, I thought a printer's
devil was a creature with a black face and in rags.'
Johnson. * Yes, Sir. But I suppose he had her face
washed, and put clean clothes on her.' Then, look-
ing very serious, and very earnest. * And she did not
disgrace him ; the woman had a bottom of good
sense.' The word bottom thus introduced was so ludi-
crous when contrasted with his gravity, that most of us
4
24 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MKS. PIOZZI.
could not forbear tittering and laughing ; though I re-
collect that the Bishop of Killaloe kept his countenance
with perfect steadiness, while Miss Hannah More slily
hid her face behind a lady's back who sat on the same
settee with her. His pride could not bear that any
expression of his should excite ridicule, when he did not
intend it : he therefore resolved to assume and exercise
despotic power, glanced sternly around, and called out
in a strong tone, * Where's the merriment ?' Then
collecting himself, and looking awful, to make us feel
how he could impose restraint, and as it were searching
his mind for a still more ludicrous word, he slowly pro-
nounced, * I say the woman was fundamentally sen-
sible ;' as if he had said, Hear this now, and laugh if
you dare. We all sat composed as at a funeral."
This resembles the influence exercised by the " great
commoner " over the House of Commons. An instance
being mentioned of his throwing an adversary into
irretrievable confusion by an arrogant expression of
contempt, the late Mr. Charles Butler asked the rela-
tor, an eye-witness, whether the House did not laugh
at the ridiculous figure of the poor member. "No,
Sir," was the reply, "we were too much awed to
laugh."
It was a redeeming feature in Johnson's character
that he was extremely fond of female society ; so fond,
indeed, that on coming to London he was obliged to be
on his guard against the temptations to which it exposed
him. He left off attending the Green Eoom, telling
Garrick, " I'll come no more behind your scenes, Davy ;
JOKNBON WITH WOMEN. 25
for the silk stockings and white bosoms of your actresses
excite my amorous propensities."
The proneness of his imagination to wander in this
forbidden field is unwittingly betrayed by his remarking
at Sky, in support of the doctrine that animal sub-
stances are less cleanly than vegetable : " I have often
thought that, if I kept a seraglio, the ladies should all
wear linen gowns, or cotton, I mean stuffs made of
vegetable substances. I would have no silks : you can-
not tell when it is clean : it will be very nasty before it
is perceived to be so ; linen detects its own dirtiness."
His virtue thawed instead of becoming more rigid in
the North. " This evening," records Boswell of their
visit to an Hebridean chief, " one of our married ladies,
a lively pretty little woman, good-humouredly sat down
upon Dr. Johnson's knee, and being encouraged by some
of the company, put her hands round his neck and
kissed him. ( Do it again,' said he, ' and let us see who
will tire first.' He kept her on his knee some time,
whilst he and she drank tea."
The Kev. Dr. Maxwell relates in his "Collectanea,"
that " Two young women from Staffordshire visited him
when I was present, to consult him on the subject of
Methodism, to which they were inclined. * Come,' said
he, ' you pretty fools, dine with Maxwell and me at the
Mitre, and we will talk over that subject;' which they
did, and after dinner he took one of them upon his
knee, and fondled her for half an hour together."
Women almost always like men who like them. John-
son, despite of his unwieldy figure, scarred features,
26 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
and uncouth gestures, was a favourite with the fair ;
and talked of affairs of the heart as things of which he
was entitled to speak from personal experience as con-
fidently as of any other moral or social topics. He
told Mrs. Thrale, without the smallest consciousness of
presumption or what Mr. Square would . term the un-
fitness of things, of his and Lord Lyttleton's having
contended for Miss Bbothby's preference with an emu-
lation that occasioned hearty disgust and ended in
lasting animosity. " You may see," he added, when
the Lives of the Poets were printed, " that dear
Boothby is at my heart still. She would delight in
that fellow Lyttleton's company though, all that I could
do, and I cannot forgive even his memory the prefer-
ence given by a mind like hers." *
Mr. Croker surmises that " Molly Aston," not dear
Boothby, must have been the object of this rivalry ; and
the surmise is strengthened by Johnson's calling Molly the
loveliest creature he ever saw ; adding (to Mrs. Thrale),
" My wife was a little jealous, and happening one day
when walking in the country to meet a fortune-hunting
gipsy, Mrs. Johnson made the wench look at my hand,
but soon repented of her curiosity, ' for,' says the gipsy,
' your heart is divided between a Betty and a Molly :
Betty loves you best, but you take most delight in Molly's
* In point of personal advantages the man of rank and fashion
and the scholar were nearly on a par.
" But who is this astride the pony,
So long, so lean, so lank, so hony ?
Dat be de great orator, Littletony."
JOHNSON ON LOVE. 27
company.' When I turned about to laugh, I saw my
wife was crying. Pretty charmer, she had no reason.' "
This pretty charmer was in her forty-eighth year when
he married her, he being then twenty-seven. He told
Beauclerc that it was a leve match on both sides ; and
Garrick used to draw ludicrous pictures of their mutual
fondness, which he heightened by representing her as
short, fat, tawdrily dressed, and highly rouged.
One of Rochefoucauld's maxims is : " Young women
who do not wish to appear coquettes, and men of ad-
vanced years who do not wish to appear ridiculous,
should never speak of love as of a thing in which they
could take part." Mrs. Thrale relates an amusing
instance of Johnson's adroitness in escaping from the
dilemma : " As we had been saying one day that no
subject failed of receiving dignity from the manner in
which Mr. Johnson treated it, a lady at my house
said, she would make him talk about love; and took
her measures accordingly, deriding the novels of the
day because they treated about love. * It is not,' re-
plied our philosopher, ' because they treat, as you call
it, about love, but because they treat of nothing, that
they are despicable : we must not ridicule a passion
which he who never felt never was happy, and he who
laughs at never deserves to feel a passion which has
caused the change of empires, and the loss of worlds
a passion which has inspired heroism and subdued
avarice.' He thought he had already said too much.
* A passion, in short,' added he, with an altered tone,
'that consumes me away for my pretty Fanny here,
28 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
and she is very cruel,' speaking of another lady (Miss
Burney) in the room."
These peculiarities throw light on more questions than
one relating to Johnson's prolonged intimacy with Mrs.
'Thrale. His gallantry, and the flattering air of defe-
rential tenderness which he knew how to throw into his
commerce with his female favourities, may have had little
less to do with his domestication at Streatham than his
celebrity, his learning, or his wit. The most submis-
sive wife will manage to dislodge an inmate who is dis-
pleasing to her. " Aye, a marriage, man," said Bucklaw
to his led captain, " but wherefore droops thy mighty
spirit ? The board will have a corner, and the corner
will have a trencher, and the trencher will have a glass
beside it ; and the board end shall be filled, and the
trencher and the glass shall be replenished for thee, if
all the petticoats in Lothian had sworn the contrary."
" So says many an honest fellow," said Craigenfelt,
" and some of my special friends ; but curse me, if I
know the reason, the women could never bear me, and
always contrived to trundle me out before the honey-
moon was over."
It was all very well for Johnson to tell Boswell, " I
know no man who is more master of his wife and
family than Thrale. If he holds up a finger he is obeyed."
The sage took very good care not to act upon the
theory, and instead of treating the wife as a cipher,
lost no opportunity of paying court to her, though in
a manner quite compatible with his own lofty spirit of
independence and self-respect. Thus, attention having
VERSES TO MRS. THRALE. 29
been called to some Italian verses by Baretti, he con-
verted them into an elegant compliment to her by an
improvised paraphrase :
" Viva ! viva la padrona !
Tutta bella, e tutta buona,
La padrona e un angiolella
Tutta buona e tutta bella ;
Tutta bella e tutta buona ;
Viva ! viva la padrona ! "
(t Long may live my lovely Hetty !
Always young and always pretty,
Always pretty, always young,
Live my lovely Hetty long !
Always young and always pretty ;
Long may live my lovely Hetty ! "
Her marginal note in the copy of the " Anecdotes "
presented by her to Sir James Fellowes in 1816 is :
" I heard these verses sung at Mr. Thomas's by three
voices, not three weeks ago."
It was in the eighth year of their acquaintance that
Johnson solaced his fatigue in the Hebrides by writing a
Latin ode to her. " About fourteen years since," wrote
Sir Walter Scott, in 1829, " I landed in Sky with a
party of friends, and had the curiosity to ask what was
the first idea on every one's mind at landing. All
answered separately that it was this ode." Thinking
Miss Cornelia Knight's version too diffuse, I asked Mr.
Millies for a translation or paraphrase, and he kindly
complied by producing these spirited stanzas :
" Where constant mist enshrouds the rocks,
Shattered in earth's primeval shocks,
And niggard Nature ever mocks
The labourer's toil,
30 LIFE AND WETTINGS OF MES. PIOZZI.
I roam through clans of savage men,
Untamed by arts, untaught by pen ;
Or cower within some squalid den
O'er reeking soil.
Through paths that halt from stone to stone,
Amid the din of tongues unknown,
One image haunts my soul alone,
Thine, gentle Thrale !
Soothes she, I ask, her spouse's care ?
Does mother-love its charge prepare ?
Stores she her mind with knowledge rare,
Or lively tale ?
Forget me not ! thy faith I claim,
Holding a faith that cannot die,
That fills with thy benignant name
These shores of Sky."
"On another occasion," says Mrs. Thrale, in the "Anec-
dotes," " I can boast verses from Dr. Johnson. As I went
into his room the morning of my birthday once and said
to him, ' Nobody sends me any verses now, because I am
five-and-thirty years old ; and Stella was fed with them
till forty-six, I remember.' My being just recovered
from illness and confinement will account for the man-
ner in which he burst out suddenly, for so he did
without the least previous hesitation whatsoever, and
without having entertained the smallest intention to-
wards it half a minute before :
" l Oft in danger, yet alive,
We are come to thirty-five ;
Long may better years arrive,
Better years than thirty-five.
Could philosophers contrive
Life to stop at thirty-five,
HER AGE. 31
Time his hours should never drive
O'er the bounds of thirty-five.
High to soar, and deep to dive,
Nature gives at thirty-five.
Ladies, stock and tend your hive,
Trifle not at thirty-five ;
For howe'er we boast and strive,
Life declines from thirty-five :
He that ever hopes to thrive
Must begin by thirty-five ;
And all who wisely wish to wive
Must look on Thrale at thirty-five.'
" ' And now,' said he, as I was writing them down,
' you may see what it is to come for poetry to a dic-
tionary-maker ; you may observe that the rhymes run
in alphabetical order exactly.' And so they do."
Byron's estimate of life at the same age, is somewhat
different :
" Too old for youth too young, at thirty-five
To herd with boys, or hoard with good threescore,
I wonder people should be left alive.
But since they are, that epoch is a bore."
Lady Aldborough, whose best witticisms unluckily lie
under the same merited ban as Eochester's best verses,
resolved not to pass twenty-five, and had her passport
made out accordingly till her death at eighty-five.
She used to boast that, whenever a foreign official ob-
jected, she never failed to silence him by the remark,
that he was the first gentleman of his country who
ever told a lady she was older than she said she was.
Actuated probably by a similar feeling, and in the hope
of securing to herself the benefit of the doubt, Mrs.
32 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
Thrale omitted in the "Anecdotes" the year when these
verses were addressed to her, and a sharp contro-
versy has been raised as to the respective ages of her-
self and Dr. Johnson at the time. It is thus summed
up by one of the combatants :
" In one place Mr. Croker says that at the commence-
ment of the intimacy between Dr. Johnson and Mrs.
Thrale, in 1765, the lady was twentj^-five years old. In
other places he says that Mrs. Thrale's thirty-fifth year
coincided with Jofinson's seventieth. Johnson was born
in 1709. If, therefore, Mrs. Thrale's thirty-fifth year
coincided with Johnson's seventieth, she could have
been only twenty-one years old in 1765. This is not
all. Mr. Croker, in another place, assigns the year
1777 as the date of the complimentary lines which
Johnson made on Mrs. Thrale's thirty-fifth birthday.
If this date be correct Mrs. Thrale must have been
born in 1742, and could have been only twenty-three
when her acquaintance commenced. Mr. Croker, there-
fore, gives us three different statements as to her age.
Two of the three must be incorrect. We will not decide
between them." *
"At the time of my first edition," rejoins Mr. Croker,
" I was unable to ascertain precisely Mrs. Piozzi's age,
but a subsequent publication, named " Piozziana," fixes
her birth on her own authority to the 16th January,
1 740 ; yet even that is not quite conclusive, for she
calls it 1740 old style, that is 1741. I must now, of
course, adopt, though not without some doubt, the lady's
* Macaulay's Essays.
HER AGE. S3
reckoning." The difficulty, such as it is, arises from
her not particularising the style. In a letter to the
author of " Piozziana," dated January 15th, 1817, she
writes : " I am not well ; nor, I fear, going to be well
directly ; but, be it as it may, to-morrow is my seventy-
sixth anniversary, and I ought to be happy and thank-
ful." The author's comment is : " In this letter she
marks her birthday and her advanced age, seventy-
seven ; and much about that time, I recollect her show-
ing me a valuable china bowl, in the inside of which
was pasted a slip of paper, and on it written, * With
this bowl Hester Lynch Salusbury was baptized, 1740.'
She was born on the 16th or, as according to the
change of style, we should now reckon the 27th, of
January, 1741."
In a letter to Mrs. Thrale of August 14th, 1780,
Johnson writes : " If you try to plague me, I shall tell
you that, according to Gralen, life begins to decline at
thirty-five." This gives Mr. Croker a pretext for re-
turning to the topic : " Mrs. Piozzi at her last birthday
must have been forty, so that Johnson must have al-
luded to the sprightly verses in which he had cele-
brated Mrs. Thrale at thirty-five (see ante, p. 170, n. 3,
and p. 471, n. 3.*); but since these notes were written
I have found evidence under her own hand that my
suspicion was just, and that she was born in 1 740, new
style." He does not state where or in what shape this
* The references are to the handsome and complete edition of
Boswell's " Life of Johnson," in one volume, royal octavo, pub-
lished by Mr. Murray in 1860.
VOL. 1. D
34 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
evidence was found. It coincides with her letter of
January 15th, 1817; but is irreconcilable with the slip
of paper in the bowl, which we learn from her letters
was pasted in by herself after her second marriage.
" This bowl," writes Mr. Salusbury, "is now in my pos-
session. The slip of paper now in it is in my father's
handwriting, and copied, I have heard him say, from
the original slip, which was worn out by age and finger-
ing. The exact words are, 'In this bason was bap-
tized Hester Lynch Salusbury, 16th Jan. 1740-41 old
style, at Bodville in Carnarvonshire.' "
The incident of the verses is thus narrated in "Thra-
liana": "And this year, 1777, when I told him that
it was my birthday, and that I was then thirty-five
years old, he repeated me these verses, which I wrote
down from his mouth as he made them." If she was
born in 1740-41, she must have been thirty-six in 1777 ;
and there is no perfectly .satisfactory settlement of the
controversy, which many will think derives its sole im-
portance from the two chief controversialists, for it
is eminently characteristic of both of them.
The highest authorities differ equally about her looks.
" My readers," says Boswell, " will naturally wish for
some representation of the figures of this couple. Mr.
Thrale was tall, well-proportioned, and stately. As for
Madam, or My Mistress, by which epithets Johnson
used to mention Mrs. Thrale, she was short, plump,
and brisk." " He should have added," observes Mr.
Croker, "that she was very pretty." This was not
her own opinion, nor that of her cotemporaries, al-
HER LOOKS. 35
though her face was attractive from animation and
expression, and her personal appearance pleasing on
the whole. Sometimes, when visiting the author of
" Piozziana," * she used to look at her little self, as she
called it, and spoke drolly of what she once was, as if
speaking of some one else ; and one day, turning to
him, she exclaimed : " No, I never was handsome : I
had always too many strong points in my face for
beauty." On his expressing a doubt of this, and hint-
ing that Dr. Johnson was certainly an admirer of her
personal charms, she replied that his devotion was at
least as warm towards the table and the table-cloth at
Streatham.
One day when he was ill, exceedingly low-spirited,
and persuaded that death was not far distant, she
appeared before him in a dark-coloured gown, which
his bad sight, and worse apprehensions, made him mis-
take for an iron-grey. " ( Why do you delight,' said he,
* thus to thicken the gloom of misery that surrounds
me ? is not here sufficient accumulation of horror with-
out anticipated mourning?' 'This is not mourning,
Sir ! ' said I, drawing the curtain, that the light might
fall upon the silk, and show it was a purple mixed
with green. ' Well, well ! ' replied he, changing his
voice ; ' you little creatures should never wear those
* " Piozziana ; or Recollections of the late Mrs. Piozzi, with
Remarks. By a Friend." Moxon. 1833. Theae reminiscences,
unluckily limited to the last eight or ten years of her life at Bath,
contain much curious information, and leave a highly favourable
impression of Mrs. Piozzi.
D 2
36 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
sort of clothes, however, they are unsuitable in every
way. What ! have not all insects gay colours ? ' "
According to the author of " Piozziana," who became
acquainted with her late in life, " She was short, and
though well-proportioned, broad, and deep-chested. Her
hands were muscular and almost coarse, but her writing
was, even in her eightieth year, exquisitely beautiful ;
and one day, while conversing with her on the subject
of education, she observed that ' all Misses now-a-days,
wrote so like each other, that it was provoking ; ' adding,
( I love to see individuality of character, and abhor
sameness, especially in what is feeble and flimsy.' Then,
spreading her hand, she said, * I believe I owe what you
are pleased to call my good writing, to the shape of
this hand, for my uncle, Sir Kobert Cotton, thought it
was too manly to be employed in writing like a boarding
school girl; and so I came by my vigorous, black
manuscript.' "
It was fortunate that the hand-writing compensated
for the hands ; and as she attached great importance to
blood and race, that she did not live to read Byron's
" thoroughbred and tapering fingers," or to be shocked
by his theory that " the hand is almost the only sign
of blood which aristocracy can generate." Her Bath
friend appeals to a miniature (engraved for this work)
by Roche, of Bath, taken when she was in her
seventy-seventh year. Like Cromwell, who told the
painter that if he softened a harsh line, or so much
as omitted a wart, he should never be paid a six-
pence, she desired the artist to paint her face deeply
PORTRAITS OF HER. 37
rouged, which it always was*, and to introduce a
trivial deformity of the jaw, produced by a horse tread-
ing on her as she lay on the ground after a fall. In
this respect she proved superior to Johnson ; who,
with all his love of truth, could not bear to be painted
with his defects. He was displeased at being drawn
holding a book close to his eye, and on its being sug-
gested that Eeynolds had painted himself with his ear-
trumpet, he replied : " He may do as he likes, but I
will not go down to posterity as Blinking Sam."
Eeynolds' portrait of Mrs. Thrale conveys a highly
agreeable impression of her; and so does Hogarth's
when she sat to him for the principal figure in " The
Lady's Last Stake." She was then only fourteen ; and
he probably idealised his model ; but that he also pro-
duced a striking likeness, is obvious on comparing his
* " One day I called early at her house ; and as I entered her
drawing-room, she passed me, saying ' Dear Sir, I will be with you
in a few minutes; but, while I think of it, I must go to my
dressing-closet and paint my face, which I forgot to do this morn-
ing.' Accordingly she soon returned, wearing the requisite quan-
tity of bloom ; which, it must be noticed, was not in the least like
that of youth and beauty. I then said that I was surprised she
should so far sacrifice to fashion, as to take that trouble. Her
answer was that, as I might conclude, her practice of painting did
not proceed from any silly compliance with Bath fashion, or any
fashion ; still less, if possible, from the desire of appearing younger
than she was, but from this circumstance, that in early life she had
worn rouge, as other young persons did in her day, as a part of
dress j and after continuing the habit for some years, discovered
that it had introduced a dead yellow colour into her complexion,
quite unlike that of her natural skin, and that she wished to con-
ceal the deformity." Piozziana.
D 3
33 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
picture with the professed portraits. The history of this
picture (which has been engraved, at Lord Macaulay's
suggestion, for this work) will be found in the Auto-
biography and the Letters.
BoswelPs account of his first visit to Streatham gives
a tolerably fair notion of the footing on which Johnson
stood there, and the manner in which the interchange
of mind was carried on between him and the hostess.
This visit took place in October, 1769, four or five years
after Johnson's introduction to her; and Boswell's
absence from London, in which he had no fixed resi-
dence during Johnson's life, will hardly account for
the neglect of his illustrious friend in not procuring
him a privilege which he must have highly coveted
and would doubtless have turned to good account.
u On the 6th of October I complied with this obliging
invitation ; and found, at an elegant villa, six miles
from town, every circumstance that can make society
pleasing. Johnson, though quite at home, was yet
looked up to with an awe, tempered by affection, and
seemed to be equally the care of his host and hostess.
I rejoiced at seeing him so happy."
"Mrs. Thrale disputed with him on the merit of
Prior. He attacked him powerfully ; said he wrote of
love like a man who had never felt it; his love verses
were college verses : and he repeated the song, ' Alexis
shunn'd his fellow swains,' &c. in so ludicrous a manner,
as to make us all wonder how any one could have been
pleased with such fantastical stuff. Mrs. Thrale stood
HER CONVERSATION. 39
to her guDS with great courage, in defence of amorous
ditties, which Johnson despised, till he at last silenced
her by saying, 'My dear lady, talk no more of this.
Nonsense can be defended but by nonsense.'
" Mrs. Thrale then praised Grarrick's talents for light
gay poetry; and, as a specimen, repeated his song in
' Florizel and Perdita,' and dwelt with peculiar pleasure
on this line :
" ' I'd smile with the simple, and feed with the poor.'
" Johnson. ' Nay, my dear lady, this will never do.
Poor David ! Smile with the simple ! what folly is
that ? And who would feed with the poor that can
help it ? No, no ; let me smile with the wise, and feed
with the rich.' " Boswell adds, that he repeated this
sally to Grarrick, and wondered to find his sensibility as
a writer not a little irritated by it; on which Mrs.
Thrale remarks, " How odd to go and tell the man ! "
The independent tone she took when she deemed the
Doctor unreasonable, is also proved by Boswell in his
report of what took place at Streatham in reference to
Lord Marchmont's offer to supply information for the
Life of Pope.
" Elated with the success of my spontaneous exertion
to procure material and respectable aid to Johnson for
his very favourite work, 'the Lives of the Poets,' I
hastened down to Mr. Thrale's, at Streatham, where he
now was, that I might insure his being at home next
day ; and after dinner, when I thought he would receive
P 4
40 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
the good news in the best humour, I announced it
eagerly : * I have been at work for you to-day, Sir.
I have been with Lord Marchmont. He bade me tell
you he has a great respect for you, and will call on you
to-morrow at one o'clock, and communicate all he knows
about Pope.' Johnson. 'I shall not be in town to-morrow.
I don't care to know about Pope.' Mrs. Thrale (sur-
prised, as I was, and a little angry). ( I suppose, Sir, Mr.
Boswell thought that as you are to write Pope's Life,
you would wish to know about him.' Johnson. ' Wish !
why yes. If it rained knowledge, I'd hold out my
hand ; but I would not give myself the trouble to go in
quest of it.' There was no arguing with him at the
moment. Some time afterwards he said, * Lord March-
mont will call on me, and then I shall call on Lord
Marchmont.' Mrs. Thrale was uneasy at this unac-
countable caprice ; and told me, that if I did not take
care to bring about a meeting between Lord Marchmont
and him, it would never take place, which would be a
great pity."
The ensuing conversation is a good sample of the
freedom and variety of " talk " in which Johnson luxu-
riated, and shows how important a part Mrs. Thrale
played in it :
f c Mrs. Thrale told us, that a curious clergyman of
our acquaintance (Dr. Lort is named in the margin)
had discovered a licentious stanza, which Pope had
originally in his ' Universal Prayer,' before the stanza,
" ' What conscience dictates to be done,
Or warns us not to do/ &c.
HER CONVERSATION. 41
It was this :
" ' Can sins of moment claim the rod
Of everlasting fires ?
And that offend great Nature's God
Which Nature's self inspires ? '
and that Dr. Johnson observed, it had been borrowed
from Guarini. There are, indeed, in Pastw Fido,
many such flimsy superficial reasonings as that in the
last two lines of this stanza.
" Boswell. * In that stanza of Pope's, "rod of fires "
is certainly a bad metaphor.' Mrs. Thrale. ' And " sins
of moment " is a faulty expression ; for its true import
is momentous, which cannot be intended.' Johnson.
' It must have been written " of moments." Of moment,
is momentous; of moments, momentary. I warrant
you, however, Pope wrote this stanza, and some friend
struck it out.'
"Talking of divorces, I asked if Othello's doctrine
was not plausible :
" ' He that is robb'd, not wanting what is stolen,
Let him not know't, and he's not robb'd at all.'
Dr. Johnson and Mrs. Thrale joined against this.
Johnson. ' Ask any man if he'd wish not to know of
such an injury.' Boswell. * Would you tell your friend
to make him unhappy?' Johnson. 'Perhaps, Sir, I
should not : but that would be from prudence on my
own account. A man would tell his father.' Boswell.
' Yes ; because he would not have spurious children to
get any share of the family inheritance.' Mrs. Thrale.
' Or he would tell his brother.' Boswell. ( Certainly
42 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
his elder brother. . . . Would you tell Mr. ? '
(naming a gentleman who assuredly was not in the
least danger of so miserable a disgrace, though married
to a fine woman). Johnson. 'No, Sir: because it
would do no good ; he is so sluggish, he'd never go to
Parliament and get through a divorce.' " Marginal
Note: "Langton."
One great charm of her companionship to cultivated
men was her familiarity with the learned languages, as
well as with French, Italian, and Spanish. The author
of " Piozziana " says : " She not only read and wrote
Hebrew, Greek, and Latin, but had for sixty years con-
stantly and ardently studied the Scriptures and the
works of commentators in the original languages." He
probably over-estimated her acquirements, which Boswell
certainly under-estimates when he speaks slightingly of
them on the strength of Johnson's having said : " It is a
great mistake to suppose that she is above him (Thrale)
in literary attainments. She is more flippant, but he has
ten times her learning : he is a regular scholar ; but her
learning is that of a school-boy in one of the lower
forms." If this were so, it is strange that Thrale
should cut so poor a figure, should seem little better
than a nonentity, whilst every imaginable topic was
under animated discussion at his table ; for Boswell was
more ready to report the husband's sayings than the
wife's. In a marginal note on one of the printed letters
she says : " Mr. Thrale was a very merry talking man
in 1760; but the distress of 1772, which Effected his
HER CLASSICAL KNOWLEDGE. 43
health, his hopes, and his whole soul, affected his temper
too. Perkins called it being planet struck, and I am
not sure he was ever completely the same man again."
The notes of his conversation during the antecedent
period are equally meagre.
No one would have expected to find her as much at
home in Greek and Latin authors as a man of fair
ability who had received and profited by an Univer-
sity education, but she could appreciate a classical
allusion or quotation, and translate off-hand a Latin
epigram into idiomatic English.
" Mary Aston," said Johnson, " was a beauty and a
scholar, and a wit and a whig; and she talked all in
praise of liberty ; and so I made this epigram upon her.
She was the loveliest creature I ever saw !
" ( Liber ne esse velim, suasisti, pulchra Maria,
Ut maneam liber, pulchra Maria, vale ! ',
"Will it do this way in English, Sir? (said Mrs.
Thrale)
" ' Persuasions to freedom fall oddly from you,
If freedom we seek, fair Maria, adieu.'
Mr. Croker's version is :
" ' You wish me, fair Maria, to be free,
Then, fair Maria, I must fly from thee.'
Boswell also has tried his hand at it ; and a corres-
pondent of the " Gentleman's Magazine " suggests that
Johnson had in his mind an epigram on a young lady
who appeared at a masquerade in Paris, habited as a
44 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
Jesuit, during the height of the contention between the
Jansenists and Molinists concerning free will:
" On s'e"tonne ici que Calviniste
Eut pris 1'habit de Moliniste,
Puisque que cette jeune beaute"
Ote a chacun sa liberte",
N'est ce pas une Jans6niste." *
Mrs. Thrale took the lead even when her husband
might be expected to strike in, as when Johnson was de-
claiming paradoxically against action in oratory: "Action
can have no effect on reasonable minds. It may aug-
ment noise, but it never can enforce argument." Mrs.
Thrale. "What then, Sir, becomes of Demosthenes' say-
ing, Action, action, action ? " Johnson. " Demosthenes,
Madam, spoke to an assembly of brutes, to a barbarous
people." " The polished Athenians ! " is her marginal
protest, and a most conclusive one.
In English literature she was rarely at fault. In
reference to the flattery lavished on Grarrick by Lord
Mansfield and Lord Chatham, Johnson had said, " When
he whom everybody else flatters, flatters me, then I am
truly happy." Mrs. Thrale. "The sentiment is in
* "Menagiana," vol. iii. p. 376. Edition of 1716. Equally
happy were Lord Chesterfield's lines to a young lady who appeared
at a Dublin ball, with an orange breastknot :
" Pretty Tory, where's the jest
To wear that riband on thy breast,
When that same breast betraying shows
The whiteness of the rebel rose ?"
White was adopted by the malcontent Irish of the period as the
French emblem.
JOHNSON'S OPINION OF HER. 45
Congreve, I think." Johnson. " Yes, Madam, in * The
Way of the World.'
" ' If there's delight in love, 'tis when I see
The heart that others bleed for, bleed for me.' "
The laudari a laudato viro is nearer the mark.
It would be easy to heap proof upon proof of the
value and variety of Mrs. Thrale's contributions to the
colloquial treasures accamulated by Boswell and other
members of the set ; and Johnson's deliberate testimony
to her good qualities of head and heart will far more
than counterbalance any passing expressions of disap-
proval or reproof which her mistimed vivacity, or
alleged disregard of scrupulous accuracy in narrative,
may have called forth. No two people ever lived much
together for a series of years without many fretful, com-
plaining, dissatisfied, uncongenial moments, without
letting drop captious or unkind expressions utterly at
variance with their habitual feelings and their matured
judgments of each other. The hasty word, the passing
sarcasm, the sly hit at an acknowledged foible, should
count for nothing in the estimate when contrasted with
earnest and deliberate assurances, proceeding from one
who was always too proud to flatter, and in no mood
for idle compliment when he wrote :
"Never (he writes in 1773) imagine that your letters
are long ; they are always too short for my curiosity. I
do not know that I was ever content with a single perusal.
. . . My nights are grown again very uneasy and trouble-
some. I know not that the country will mend them ;
46 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI,
but I hope your company will mend my days. Though
I cannot now expect much attention, and would not wish
for more than can be spared from the poor dear lady
(her mother), yet I shall see you and hear you every
now and then ; and to see and hear you, is always to
hear wit, and to see virtue."
He would not suffer her to be lightly spoken of in
his presence, nor permit his name to be coupled jocu-
larly with hers. " I yesterday told him," says Boswell,
when they were traversing the Highlands, "I was
thinking of writing a poetical letter to him, on his
return from Scotland, in the style of Swift's humorous
epistle in the character of Mary Gulliver to her hus-
band, Captain Lemuel Gulliver, on his return to England
from the country of the Houyhnhnms :
" ' At early morn I to the market haste,
Studious in ev'ry thing to please thy taste.
A curious fowl and spar agr ass I chose;
(For I remember you were fond of those :)
Three shillings cost the first, the last seven groats ;
Sullen you turn from both, and call for OATS.'
He laughed, and asked in whose name I would write
it. I said in Mrs. Thrale's. He was angry. f Sir, if
you have any sense of decency or delicacy, you won't
do that.' Boswell. ' Then let it be in Cole's, the land-
lord of the Mitre tavern, where we have so often sat
together.' Johnson. ' Ay, that may do.' "
Again, at Inverary, when Johnson called for a gill of
whiskey that he might know what makes a Scotchman
happy, and Boswell proposed Mrs. Thrale as their toast,
HER FUGITIVE PIECES. 47
he would not have her drunk in whiskey. Peter Pindar
has maliciously added to this reproof:
" We supped most royally, were vastly frisky,
When Johnson ordered up a gill of whiskey.
Taking the glass, says I, ' Here's Mistress Thrale,'
1 Drink her in whiskey not,' said he, 'but ale.' "
So far from making light of her scholarship, he fre-
quently accepted her as a partner in translations from
the Latin. The translations from Boethius, printed in
the second volume of the Letters, are their joint com-
position.
After recapitulating Johnson's other contributions to
literature in 1766, Boswell says "'The Fountains,' a
beautiful little fairy tale in prose, written with ex-
quisite simplicity, is one of Johnson's productions ; and
/ cannot withhold from Mrs. Thrale the praise of being
the author of that admirable poem * The Three Warn-
ings.'" " Marginal note : "How sorry he is!" Both
the tale and the poem were written for a collection
of " Miscellanies," published by Mrs. Williams in
that year. The character of Floretta in "The Foun-
tains " was intended for Mrs. Thrale, and parts of it
received touches from her ready and fruitful pen. Her
fugitive pieces, mostly in verse, thrown off from time
to time at all periods of her life, are numerous ; and
the best of these that have been recovered will be in-
cluded in these volumes. In a letter to the author of
" Piozziana," she says : " When Wilkes and Liberty
were at their highest tide, I was bringing or losing
children every year ; and my studies were confined to
48 LIFE AND WETTINGS OF MKS. PIOZZI.
my nursery ; so, it came into my head one day to send
an infant alphabet to the ( St. James Chronicle ' :
" * A was an Alderman, factious and proud ;
B was a Bellas that blustered aloud, &c/
"In a week's time Dr. Johnson asked me if I knew
who wrote it ? * Why, who did write it, Sir ? ' said I.
' Steevens,' was the reply. Some time after that, years
for aught I know, he mentioned to me Steevens's vera-
city ! ' No, no ; ' answered H. L. P., * anything but
that ; ' and told my story ; showing him by incontes-
table proofs that it was mine. Johnson did not utter a
word, and we never talked about it any more. I durst
not introduce the subject ; but it served to hinder S.
from visiting at the house: I suppose Johnson kept
him away."
It does not appear that Steevens claimed the Alpha-
bet; which may have suggested the celebrated squib
that appeared in the " New Whig Gruide," and was
popularly attributed to Mr. Croker. It was headed
" The Political Alphabet ; or, the Young Member's A
B C," and begins :
" A was an Althorpe, as dull as a hog :
B was black Brougham, a surly cur dog :
C was a Cochrane, all stripped of his lace."
What widely different associations are now awakened
by these names ! The sting is in the tail :
" W was a Warre, 'twixt a wasp and a worm,
But X Y and Z are not found in this form,
Unless Moore, Martin, and Creevey be said
(As the last of mankind) to be X Y and Z."
POPULAR ESTIMATE OF HER. 49
Amongst Miss Eeynolds' " Eecollections " will be
found: "On the praises of Mrs. Thrale he (Johnson)
used to dwell with a peculiar delight, a paternal fond-
ness, expressive of conscious exultation in being so inti-
mately acquainted with her. One day, in speaking of
her to Mr. Harris, author of * Hermes,' and expatiating
on her various perfections, the solidity of her virtues,
the brilliancy of her wit, and the strength of her under-
standing, &c. he quoted some lines (a stanza, I be-
lieve, but from what author I know not), with which he
concluded his most eloquent eulogium, and of these I
retained but the two last lines :
' Virtues of such a generous kind,
Good in the last recesses of the mind.' "
The place assigned to Mrs, Thrale by the popular voice
amongst the most cultivated and accomplished women
of the day, is fixed by some verses printed in the
"Morning Herald" of March 12th, 1782, which attracted
much attention. They were commonly attributed to Mr.
(afterwards Sir W. W.) Pepys, and Madame d'Arblay,
who alludes to them complacently, thought them his ;
but he subsequently repudiated the authorship, and the
editor of her Memoirs believes that they were written
by Dr. Burney. They were provoked by the proneness
of the Herald to indulge in complimentary allusions to
ladies of the demirep genus :
" HEBALD, wherefore thus proclaim
Nought of woman but the shame ?
Quit, oh, quit, at least awhile,
Perdita's too luscious smile j
VOL. I. E
50 LIFE AND WHITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
Wanton Worsley, stilted Daly,
Heroines of each blackguard alley j
Better sure record in story
Such as shine their sex's glory !
Herald ! haste, with me proclaim
Those of literary fame.
Hannah More's pathetic pen,
Painting high th' impassion'd scene ;
Carter's piety and learning,
Little Barney's quick discerning ;
Cowley's neatly pointed wit,
Healing those her satires hit ;
Smiling Streatfield's iv'ry neck,
Nose, and notions d, la Grecque !
Let Chapone retain a place,
And the mother of her Grace,
Each art of conversation knowing-,
High-bred, elegant Boscawen ;
Thrale, in whose expressive eyes
Sits a soul above disguise,
Skill'd with wit and sense t' impart
Feelings of a generous heart.
Lucan, Leveson, Greville, Crewe j
Fertile-minded Montague,
Who makes each rising art her care,
' And brings her knowledge from afar ! '
Whilst her tuneful tongue defends
Authors dead, and absent friends;
Bright in genius, pure in fame :
Herald, haste, and these proclaim!"
These lines merit attention for the sake of the com-
parison they invite. An outcry has recently been raised
against the laxity of modern fashion, in permitting venal
beauty to receive open homage in our parks and theatres,
and to be made the subject of prurient gossip by maids
and matrons who should ignore its existence. But we
MADAME D AEBLAY. 51
need not look far beneath the surface of social history
to discover that the irregularity in question is only a
partial revival of the practice of our grandfathers and
grandmothers, much as a crinoline may be regarded as
a modified reproduction of the hoop. Junius thus de-
nounces the Duke of Grrafton's indecorous devotion to
Nancy Parsons : " It is not the private indulgence, but
the public insult, of which I complain. The name of
Miss Parsons would hardly have been known, if the
First Lord of the Treasury had not led her in triumph
through the Opera House, even in the presence of the
Queen." Lord March (afterwards Duke of Queensberry)
was a lord of the bedchamber in the decorous court of
George the Third, when he wrote thus to Selwyn : " I
was prevented from writing to you last Friday, by being
at Newmarket with my little girl (Signora Zamperini,
a noted dancer and singer). I had the whole family
and Cocchi. The beauty went with me in my chaise,
and the rest in the old landau."
We have had Boswell's impression of his first visit to
Streatham; and Madame D'Arblay's account of hers
confirms the notion that My Mistress, not My Master,
was the presiding genius of the place.
"London, August (1778). I have now to write an
account of the most consequential day I have spent
since my birth : namely, my Streatham visit.
" Our journey to Streatham was the least pleasant
part of the day, for the roads were dreadfully dusty,
and I was really in the fidgets from thinking what my
reception might be, and from fearing they would expect
E 2
52 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
a less awkward and backward kind of person than I was
sure they would find.
f< Mr. Thrale's house is white, and very pleasantly
situated, in a fine paddock. Mrs. Thrale was strolling
about, and came to us as we got out of the chaise.
" She then received me, taking both my hands, and
with mixed politeness and cordiality welcoming me to
Streatham. She led me into the house, and addressed
herself almost wholly for a few minutes to my father,
as if to give me an assurance she did not mean to
regard me as a show, or to distress or frighten me by
drawing me out. Afterwards she took me up stairs,
and showed me the house, and said she had very much
wished to see me at Streatham, and should always
think herself much obliged to Dr. Burney for his good-
ness in bringing me, which she looked upon as a very
great favour.
" But though we were some time together, and
though she was so very civil, she did not hint at my
book, and I love her much more than ever for her
delicacy in avoiding a subject which she could not but
see would have greatly embarrassed me.
"When we returned to the music-room, we found
Miss .Thrale was with my father. Miss Thrale is a
very fine girl, about fourteen years of age, but cold and
reserved, though full of knowledge and intelligence.
" Soon after, Mrs. Thrale took me to the library ; she
talked a little while upon common topics, and then, at
last, she mentioned ' Evelina.'
" I now prevailed upon Mrs. Thrale to let me amuse
myself, and she went to dress. I then prowled about
LIFE AT STREATHAM. 53
to choose some book, and I saw, upon the reading-table,
'Evelina.' I had just fixed upon a new translation of
Cicero's ' Lselius,' when the library door was opened,
and Mr. Seward entered. I instantly put away my
book, because I dreaded being thought studious and
affected. He offered his service to find anything for
me, and then, in the same breath, ran on to speak of
the book with which I had myself ' favoured the
world ! '
" The exact words he began with I cannot recollect,
for I was actually confounded by the attack ; and his
abrupt manner of letting me know he was au fait
equally astonished and provoked me. How different
from the delicacy of Mr. and Mrs. Thrale ! "
A high French authority has laid down that polite-
ness or good breeding consists in rendering to all what
is socially their due. This definition is imperfect.
Good breeding is best displayed by putting people at
their ease; and Mrs. Thrale's manner of putting the
young authoress at her ease was the perfection of deli-
cacy and tact.
If Johnson's entrance on the stage had been preme-
ditated, it could hardly have been more dramatically
ordered.
" When we were summoned to dinner, Mrs. Thrale
made my father and me sit on each side of her. I said
that I hoped I did not take Dr. Johnson's place ; for
he had not yet appeared.
" * No,' answered Mrs. Thrale, * he will sit by you,
which I am sure will give him great pleasure.'
* 3
54 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
" Soon after we were seated, this great man entered.
I have so true a veneration for him, that the very sight
of him inspires me with delight and reverence, not-
withstanding the cruel infirmities to which he is sub-
ject ; for he has almost perpetual convulsive movements,
either of his hands, lips, feet, or knees, and sometimes
of all together.
" Mrs. Thrale introduced me to him, and he took his
place. We had a noble dinner, and a most elegant
dessert. Dr. Johnson, in the middle of dinner, asked
Mrs. Thrale what was in some little pies that were
near him.
" * Mutton,' answered she, ' so I don't ask you to eat
any, because I know you despise it.'
" ' No, Madam, no,' cried he ; * I despise nothing
that is good of its sort ; but I am too proud now to eat
of it. Sitting by Miss Burney makes me very proud
to-day ! '
'" f Miss Burney,' said Mrs. Thrale, laughing, c you
must take great care of your heart if Dr. Johnson at-
tacks it ; for I assure you he is not often successless.'
" * What's that you say, Madam ? ' cried he ; * are
you making mischief between the young lady and me
already ? '
" A little while after he drank Miss Thrale's health
and mine, and then added :
" * 'Tis a terrible thing that we cannot wish young
ladies well, without wishing them to become old
women.' "
Madame D'Arblay's memoirs are sadly defaced by
STREATHAM. 55
egotism, and gratified vanity may have had a good deal
to do with her unqualified admiration of Mrs. Thrale,
for '' Evelina " (recently published) was the unceasing
topic of exaggerated eulogy during the entire visit.
Still so acute an observer could not be essentially wrong
in an account of her reception, which is in the highest
degree favourable to her newly acquired friend. Of
her second visit she says :
" Our journey was charming. The kind Mrs. Thrale
would give courage to the most timid. She did not
ask me questions, or catechise me upon what I knew,
or use any means to draw me out, but made it her
business to draw herself out that is, to start subjects,
to support them herself, and take all the weight of
the conversation, as if it behoved her to find me enter-
tainment. But I am so much in love with her, that I
shall be obliged to run away from the subject, or shall
write of nothing else.
" When we arrived here, Mrs. Thrale showed me my
room, which is an exceeding pleasant one, and then
conducted me to the library, there to divert myself
while she dressed.
" Miss Thrale soon joined me : and I begin to like
her. Mr. Thrale was neither well nor in spirits all day.
Indeed, he seems not to be a happy man, though he
has every means of happiness in his power. But I
think I have rarely seen a very rich man with a light
heart and light spirits."
The concluding remark, coming from such a source,
may supply an improving subject of meditation or
E 4
56 LIFE AND WHITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
inquiry ; if found true, it may help to suppress envy
and promote contentment. Thrale's state of health,
however, accounts for his depression independently of
his wealth, which rested on too precarious a foundation
to allow of unbroken confidence and gaiety.
" At tea (continues the diarist) we all met again, and
Dr. Johnson was gaily sociable. He gave a very droll
account of the children of Mr. Langton.
" ' Who,' he said, ' might be very good children if
they Were let alone ; but the father is never easy when
he is not making them do something which they cannot
do ; they must repeat a fable, or a speech, or the He-
brew alphabet ; and they might as well count twenty,
for what they know of the matter : however, the father
says half, for he prompts every other word. But he
could not have chosen a man who would have been less
entertained by such means.*
" ' I believe not ! ' cried Mrs. Thrale : e nothing is
more ridiculous than parents cramming their children's
nonsense down other people's throats. I keep mine as
much out of the way as I can.'
" * Yours, Madam,' answered he, ' are in nobody's
way ; no children can be better managed or less trou-
blesome ; but your fault ' is, a too great perverseness in
not allowing anybody to give them anything. Why
should they not have a cherry, or a gooseberry, as well
as bigger children ? '
" Indeed, the freedom with which Dr. Johnson con-
demns whatever he disapproves, is astonishing; and the
strength of words he uses would, to most people, be
STREATHAM. 57
intolerable ; but Mrs. Thrale seems to have a sweetness
of disposition that equals all her other excellences, and
far from making a point of vindicating herself, she
generally receives his admonitions with the most re-
spectful silence.
" But I fear to say all I think at present of Mrs.
Thrale, lest some flaws should appear by-and-bye, that
may make me think differently. And yet, why should
I not indulge the now, as well as the then, since it will
be with so much more pleasure ? In short, I do think
her delightful; she has talents to create admiration,
good humour to excite love, understanding to give en-
tertainment, and a heart which, like my dear father's,
seems already fitted for another world."
Another of the conversations which occurred during
this visit is characteristic of all parties : -
" I could not help expressing my amazement at his
universal readiness upon all subjects, and Mrs. Thrale
said to him,
" ' Sir, Miss Burney wonders at your patience with
such stuff; but I tell her you are used to me, for I
believe I torment you with more foolish questions
than anybody else dares do.'
" * No, Madam,' said he, ' you don't torment me ;
you teaze me, indeed, sometimes.'
" * Ay, so I do, Dr. Johnson, and I wonder you bear
with my nonsense.'
" * No, Madam, you never talk nonsense ; you have
as much sense, and more wit, than any woman I
know!'
58 LIFE AND WRITINGS OP MRS. PIOZZI.
" ' Oh,' cried Mrs. Thrale, blushing, ' it is my turn to
go under the table this morning, Miss Burney ! '
"'And yet,' continued the Doctor, with the most
comical look, * I have known all the wits, from Mrs.
Montagu down to Bet Flint ! '
" ' Bet Flint ! ' cried Mrs. Thrale ; ' pray who is she ? '
" ' Oh, a fine character, Madam I She was habitually
a slut and a drunkard, and occasionally a thief and a
harlot.'
" ' And, for Heaven's sake, how came you to know
her?'
" < Why, Madam, she figured in the literary world,
too ! Bet Flint wrote her own life, and called herself
Cassandra, and it was in verse. So Bet brought me
her verses to correct ; but I gave her half-a-crown, and
she liked it as well.'
" ( And pray what became of her, Sir ?'
c ( Why, Madam, she stole a quilt from the man of
the house, and he had her taken up : but Bet Flint had
a spirit not to be subdued ; so when she found herself
obliged to go to jail, she ordered a sedan chair, and bid
her footboy walk before her. However, the boy proved
refractory, for he was ashamed, though his mistress was
not.'
" * And did she ever get out of jail again, Sir ? '
" f Yes, Madam ; when she came to her trial, the
judge acquitted her. " So now," she said to me, "the
quilt is my own, and now I'll make a petticoat of it."*
Oh, I loved Bet Flint ! '
* This story is told by Boswell, roy. 8vo. edit. p. 688.
JOHNSONS GALLANTRY. &9
" ' Bless me, Sir ; ' cried Mrs. Thrale, ' how can all
these vagabonds contrive to get at you, of all people ?'
" ' the dear creatures ! ' cried he, laughing heartily,
* I can't but be glad to see them ! ' '
Madame D'Arblay's notes of the conversation and
mode of life at Streatham are full and spirited, and
exhibit Johnson in moods and situations in which he
was seldom seen by Boswell. The adroitness with
which he divided his attentions amongst the ladies,
blending approval with instruction, and softening con-
tradiction or reproof by gallantry, gives plausibility to
his otherwise paradoxical claim to be considered a polite
man.* He obviously knew how to set about it, and
(theoretically at least) was no mean proficient in that art
of pleasing which attracts
" Rather by deference than compliment,
And wins e'en by a delicate dissent."
Sir Henry Bulwer (in his " France ") says that Louis
the Fourteenth was entitled to be called a man of
* " When the company were retired, we happened to be talking
of Dr. Barnard, the provost of Eton, who died about that time ;
and after a long and just eulogium on his wit, his learning, and
goodness of heart ( He was the only man, too,' says Mr. Johnson
quite seriously, ' that did justice to my good breeding ; and you
may observe that I am well-bred to a degree of needless scrupu-
losity. No man,' continued he, not observing the amazement of
his hearers, ( no man is so cautious not to interrupt another ; no
man thinks it so necessary to appear attentive when others are
speaking ; no man so steadily refuses preference to himself, or so
willingly bestows it on another, as I do ; nobody holds so strongly
as I do the necessity of ceremony, and the ill effects which follow
the breach of it : yet people think me rude ; but Barnard did me
justice.' " Anecdotes.
60 LIFE AN,D WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
genius, if only from the delicate beauty of his compli-
ments. Mrs. Thrale awards the palm of excellence in
the same path to Johnson. "Your compliments, Sir,
are made seldom, but when they are made, they have
an elegance unequalled ; but then, when you are angry,
who dares make speeches so bitter and so cruel ? " "I
am sure," she adds, after a semblance of defence on his
part, " I have had my share of scolding from you."
Johnson. " It is true, you have, but you have borne it
like an angel, and you have been the better for it." As
the discussion proceeds, he accuses her of often provoking
him to say severe things by unreasonable commenda-
tion ; a common mode of acquiring a character for
amiability at the expense of one's intimates, who are
made to appear uncharitable by being thus constantly
placed on the depreciating side.
Some years prior to this period (1778) Mrs. Thrale's
mind and character had undergone a succession of the
most trying ordeals, and was tempered and improved,
without being hardened, by them.
One child after another died at the age when the
bereavement is most affecting to a mother. Her hus-
band's health kept her in a constant state of appre-
hension for his life, and his affairs became embarrassed
to the very verge of bankruptcy. So long as they re-
mained prosperous, he insisted on her not meddling with
them in any way, and even required her to keep to her
drawing-room and leave the conduct of their domestic
establishment to the butler and housekeeper. But when
(from circumstances detailed in the " Autobiography ")
HER ATTENTION TO BUSINESS. 61
his fortune was seriously endangered, he wisely and
gladly availed himself of her prudence and energy, and
was saved by so doing. I have now before me a col-
lection of autograph letters from her to Mr. Perkins,
then manager and afterwards one of the proprietors of
the brewery, from which it appears that she paid the
most minute attention to the business, besides under-
taking the superintendence of her own hereditary estate
in Wales. On September 28, 1773, she writes to Mr.
Perkins, who was on a commercial journey :
" Mr. Thrale is still upon his little tour ; I opened
a letter from you at the counting-house this morning,
and am sorry to find you have so much trouble with
Grant and his affairs. How glad I shall be to hear
that matter is settled at all to your satisfaction. His
letter and remittance came while I was there to-day.
Careless, of the * Blue Posts,' has turned
refractory, and applied to Hoare's people, who have
sent him in their beer. I called on him to-day, how-
ever, and by dint of an unwearied solicitation, (for I
kept him at the coach side a full half-hour) I got his
order for six butts more as the final trial."
Examples of fine ladies pressing tradesmen for their
votes with compromising importunity are far from
rare, but it would be difficult to find a parallel for
Johnson's " Hetty " doing duty as a commercial travel-
ler. She was simultaneously obliged to anticipate the
electioneering exploits of the Duchess of Devonshire
and Mrs. Crewe ; and in after life, having occasion to
pass through Southwark, she expresses her astonishment
62 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MKS. PIOZZI.
at no longer recognising a place, every hole and corner
of which she had three times visited as a canvasser.
After the death of Mr. Thrale, a friend of Mr. H.
Thornton canvassed the borough on behalf of that gen-
tleman. He waited on Mrs. Thrale, who promised her
support. She concluded her obliging expressions by
saying : " I wish your friend success, and I think he
will have it : he may probably come in for two parlia-
ments, but if he tries for a third, were he an angel from
heaven, the people of Southwark would cry, * Not this
man, but Barabbas.' " *
On one of her canvassing expeditions, Johnson ac-
companied her, and a rough fellow, a hatter by trade,
seeing the moralist's hat in a state of decay, seized it
suddenly with one hand, and clapping him on the back
with the other, cried out, " Ah, Master Johnson, this
is no time to be thinking about hats." " No, no,
Sir," replied the Doctor, "hats are of no use now,
as you say, except to throw up in the air and huzzah
with ; " accompanying his words with the true election
halloo.
Thrale had serious thoughts of repaying Johnson's
electioneering aid in kind, by bringing him into Par-
liament. Sir John Hawkins says that Thrale had two
meetings with the minister (Lord North), who at first
seemed inclined to find Johnson a seat, but eventually
* Miss Lsetitia Matilda Hawkins vouches for this story.
" Memoir, &c." vol. i. p. 66, note, where she adds : "I have heard
it said, that into whatever company she (Mrs. T.) fell, she could be
the most agreeable person in it."
ASSISTED BY JOHNSON. 63
discountenanced the project. Lord Stowell told Mr.
Croker that Lord North did not feel quite sure that
Johnson's support might not sometimes prove rather
an incumbrance than a help. " His lordship perhaps
thought, and not unreasonably, that, like the elephant
in the battle, he was quite as likely to trample down his
friends as his foes." Flood doubted whether Johnson,
being long used to sententious brevity and the short
flights of conversation, would have succeeded in the
expanded kind of argument required in public speaking.
Burke's opinion was, that if he had come early into
Parliament, he would have been the greatest speaker
ever known in it. Upon being told this by Eeynolds,
he exclaimed, " I should like to try my hand now." On
BoswelPs adding that he wished he had., Mrs. Thrale
writes : " Boswell had leisure for curiosity : Ministers
had not. Boswell would have been equally amused by
his failure as by his success ; but to Lord North there
would have been no joke at all in the experiment
ending untowardly."
He was equally ready with advice and encourage-
ment during the difficulties connected with the brewery.
He was not of opinion with Aristotle and Parson Adams,
that trade is below a philosopher*; and he eagerly
busied himself in computing the cost of the malt and
the possible profits on the ale. In October 1772, he
writes from Lichfield :
* " Trade, answered Adams, is below a philosopher, as Aristotle
proves in his first chapter of ' Politics,' and unnatural, as it is
managed now." Joseph Andrews,
64 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
" Do not suffer little things to disturb you. The brew-
house must be the scene of action, and the subject of
speculation. The first consequence of our late trouble
ought to be, an endeavour to brew at a cheaper rate ;
an endeavour not violent and transient, but steady and
continual, prosecuted with total contempt of censure or
wonder, and animated by resolution not to stop while
more can be done. Unless this can be done, nothing
can help us; and if this be done, we shall not want
help.
" Surely there is something to be saved ; there is to
be saved whatever is the difference between vigilance and
neglect, between parsimony and profusion.
"The price of malt has risen again. It is now two
pounds eight shillings the quarter. Ale is sold in the
public-houses at sixpence a quart, a price which I never
heard of before,
" I am, &c."
In November of the same year, from Ashbourne :
" DEAR MADAM, So many days and never a letter !
- - Fugere fides, pietasque pudorque. This is Turkish
usage. And I have been hoping and hoping. But
you are so glad to have me out of your mind.
" I think you were quite right in your advice about
the thousand pounds, for the payment could not have
been delayed long ; and a short delay would have les-
sened credit, without advancing interest. But "in great
matters you are hardly ever mistaken,"
THRALE'S EMBARRASSMENTS. 65
In May 17, 1773:
" Why should Mr. T suppose, that what I took
the liberty of suggesting was concerted with you ? He
does not know how much I revolve his affairs, and how
honestly I desire his prosperity. I hope he has let the
hint take some hold of his mind."
In the copy of the printed letters presented by Mrs.
Thrale to Sir James Fellowes, the blank is filled up
with the name of Thrale, and the passage is thus anno-
tated in her handwriting :
"Concerning his (Thrale's) connection with quack
chemists, quacks of all sorts ; jumping up in the night
to go to Marlbro' Street from Southwark, after some
advertising mountebank, at hazard of his life."
That Johnson's advice was neither thrown away nor
undervalued, may be inferred from an incident related
by Boswell. Mr. Perkins had hung up in the counting-
house a fine proof of the mezzotinto of Dr. Johnson
by Doughty ; and when Mrs. Thrale asked him, some-
what flippantly, "Why do you put him up in the
counting-house?" Mr. Perkins answered, "Because, Ma-
dam, I wish to have one wise man there." " Sir," said
Johnson, " I thank you. It is a very handsome com-
pliment, and I believe you speak sincerely."
He was in the habit of paying the most minute at-
tention to every branch of domestic economy, and his
suggestions are invariably marked by shrewdness and
good sense. Thus when Mrs. Thrale was giving evening
parties, he told her that though few people might be
hungry after a late dinner, she should always have a
VOL. i. F
66 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
good supply of cakes and sweetmeats on a side table,
and that some cold meat and a bottle of wine would
often be found acceptable. Notwithstanding the im-
perfection of his eyesight, and his own slovenliness,
he was a critical observer of female dress and demeanour,
and found fault without ceremony or compunction when
any of his canons of taste or propriety were infringed.
Several amusing examples are enumerated by Mrs.
Thrale :
" I commended a young lady for her beauty and
pretty behaviour one day, however, to whom I thought
no objections could have been made. 'I saw her,' said
Dr. Johnson, s take a pair of scissors in her left hand
though ; and for all her father is now become a noble-
man, and as you say excessively rich, I should, were I
a youth of quality ten years hence, hesitate between a
girl so neglected, and a, negro.''
"It was indeed astonishing how he could remark
such 'minuteness with a sight so miserably imperfect;
but no accidental position of a riband escaped him, so
nice was his observation, and so rigorous his demands
of propriety. When I went with him to Litchfield,
and came downstairs to breakfast at the inn, my dress
did not please him, and he made me alter it entirely
b.efore he would stir a step with us about the town,
saying most satirical things concerning the appearance
I made in a riding-habit ; and adding, ' 'Tis very strange
that such eyes as yours, cannot discern propriety of
dress: if I had a sight only half as good, I think I
should see. to the centre,'
JOHNSON ON DRESS. 67
"Another lady, whose accomplishments he never
denied, came to our house one day covered with dia-
monds, feathers, &c., and he did not seem inclined to
chat with her as usual. I asked him why ? when the
company was gone. 'Why, her head looked so like
that of a woman who shows puppets,' said he, ' and her
voice so confirmed the fancy, that I could not bear her
to-day ; when she wears a large cap, I can talk to
her.'
" When the ladies wore lace trimmings to their
clothes, he expressed .his contempt of the reigning
fashion in these terms : * A Brussels trimming is like
bread-sauce,' said he, ' it takes away the glow of colour
from the gown, and gives you nothing instead of it;
but sauce was invented to heighten the flavour of our
food, and trimming is an ornament to the manteau, or
it is nothing. Learn,' said he, ' that there is propriety
or impropriety in every thing how slight soever, and
get at the general principles of dress and of behaviour ;
if you then transgress them, you will at least know that
they are not observed.' "
Madame D'Arblay confirms this account. He had
just been finding fault with a bandeau worn by Lady
Lade, a very large woman, standing six feet high with-
out her shoes :
"Dr. J. The truth is, women, take them in general,
have no idea of grace. Fashion is all they think of. 1
don't mean Mrs. Thrale and Miss Burney, when I talk
of women ! they are goddesses ! and therefore I ex-
cept them.
F 2
68 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
" Mrs. Thrale. Lady Lade never wore the bandeau,
and said she never would, because it is unbecoming.
" Dr. J. (laughing.} Did not she? then is Lady
Lade a charming woman, and I have yet hopes of en-
tering into engagements with her !
" Mrs. T. Well, as to that I can't say ; but to be
sure, the only similitude I have yet discovered in you,
is in size : there you agree mighty well.
" Dr. J. Why, if anybody could have worn the
bandeau, it must have been Lady Lade ; for there is
enough of her to carry it off; but you are too little for
anything ridiculous ; that which seems nothing upon a
Patagonian, will become very conspicuous upon a Lilli-
putian, and of you there is so little in all, that one
single absurdity would swallow up half of you."
Matrimony was one of his favourite subjects, and he
was fond of laying down and refining on the duties of
the married state, and the amount of happiness and
comfort to be found in it. But once when he was
musing over the fire in the drawing-room at Streatham,
a young gentleman called to him suddenly, " Mr. John-
son, would you advise me to marry ? " "I would advise
no man to marry, Sir," replied the Doctor in a very
angry tone, " who is not likely to propagate under-
standing ; " and so left the room. " Our companion,"
adds Mrs. Thrale, in .the " Anecdotes," "looked con-
founded, and I believe had scarce recovered the conscious-
ness of his own existence, when Johnson came back, and,
drawing his chair among us, with altered looks and a
softened voice, joined in the general chat, insensibly led
SIR JOHN LADE. 69
the conversation to the subject of marriage, where he laid
himself out in a dissertation so useful, so elegant, so
founded on the true knowledge of human life, and so
adorned with beauty of sentiment, that no one ever
recollected the offence, except to rejoice in its con-
sequences."
The young gentleman was Mr. Thrale's nephew,
Sir John Lade ; who was proposed, half in earnest,
whilst still a minor, by the Doctor as a fitting mate for
the author of " Evelina." He married a woman of the
town, became a celebrated member of the Four-in-Hand
Club, and contrived to waste the whole of a fine fortune
before he died.
In " Thraliana " she says : " Lady Lade consulted
him about her son, Sir John. ' Endeavour, Madam,'
said he (Johnson) 'to procure him knowledge ; for really
ignorance to a rich man is like fat to a sick sheep, it
only serves to call the rooks about him.' On the same
occasion it was that he observed how a mind unfurnished
with subjects and materials for thinking can keep up
no dignity at all in solitude. * It is,' says he, ' in the
state of a mill without grist.' "
The attractions of Streatham must have been very
strong, to induce Johnson to pass so much of his time
away from "the busy hum of men" in Fleet Street,
and "the full tide of human existence" at Charing
Cross. He often found fault with Mrs. Thrale for liv-
ing so much in the country, " feeding the chickens till
she starved her understanding." Walking in a wood
when it rained, she tells us, " was the only rural image
I 3
70 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
he pleased his fancy with ; for he would say, after one
has gathered the apples in an orchard, one wishes them
well baked, and removed to a London eating-house for
enjoyment." This is almost as bad as the foreigner,
who complained that there was no ripe fruit in England
but the roasted apples. Amongst other modes of passing
time in the country, Johnson once or twice tried hunting
and, mounted on an old horse of Mr. Thrale's, acquitted
himself to the surprise of the " field," one of whom
delighted him by exclaiming, " Why Johnson rides as
well, for ought I see, as the most illiterate fellow in
England." But a trial or two satisfied him.
" He thought at heart like courtly Chesterfield,
Who after a long chase o'er hills, dales, fields,
And what not, though he rode beyond all price,
Ask'd next day, 'If men ever hunted twice ? ' "
It is very strange, and very melancholy, was his re-
flection, that the paucity of human pleasures should
persuade us ever to call hunting one of them. The
mode of locomotion in which he delighted was the
vehicular. As he was driving rapidly in a postchaise
with Boswell, he exclaimed, " Life has not many things
better than this." On their way from Dr.- Taylor's to
Derby in 1777, he said, "If I had no duties, and no
reference to futurity, I would spend my life in driving
briskly in a postchaise with a pretty woman, but she
should be one who could understand me, and would add
something to the conversation."
Mr. Croker attributes his enjoyment to the novelty
of the pleasure ; his poverty having in early life pre-
JOHNSON'S FONDNESS FOR A CARRIAGE. 71
vented him from travelling post. But a better reason
is given by Mrs. Thrale :
" I asked him why he doated on a coach so ? and
received for answer, that in the first place, the company
were shut in with him there ; and could not escape, as
out of a room ; in the next place, he heard all that was
said in a carriage, where it was my turn to be deaf :
and very impatient was he at my occasional difficulty
of hearing. On this account he wished to travel all
over the world ; for the very act of going forward was
delightful to him, and he gave himself no concern
about accidents, which he said never happened ; nor did
the running-away of the horses on the edge of a preci-
pice between Vernon and St. Denys in France convince
him to the contrary : ' for nothing came of it,' he said,
* except that Mr. Thrale leaped out of the carriage into
a chalk-pit, and then came up again, looking as white /'
When the truth was, all their lives were saved by the
greatest providence ever exerted in favour of three
human creatures ; and the part Mr. Thrale took from
desperation was the likeliest thing in the world to pro-
duce broken limbs and death."
The drawbacks on his gratification and on that of his
fellow travellers were his physical defects, and his utter
insensibility to the beauty of nature, as well as to the
fine arts, in so far as they were addressed to the senses
of sight and hearing. " He delighted," says Mrs. Thrale,
" no more in music than painting ; he was almost as
deaf as he was blind ; travelling with Dr. Johnson was,
for these reasons, tiresome enough. Mr. Thrale loved
J? 4
72 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
prospects, and was mortified that his friend could not
enjoy the sight of those different dispositions of wood
and water, hill and valley, that travelling through
England and France affords a man. But when he
wished to point them out to his companion : * Never
heed such nonsense,' would be the reply : ' a blade of
grass is always a blade of grass, whether in one country
or another : let us, if we do talk, talk about something ;
men and women are my subjects of inquiry ; let us see
how these differ from those we have left behind."
It is no small deduction from our admiration of
Johnson, and no trifling enhancement of his friends'
kindness in tolerating his eccentricities, that he seldom
made allowance for his own palpable and undeniable
deficiencies. As well might a blind man deny the
existence of colours, as a purblind man assert that
there was no charm in a prospect or in a Claude or
Titian, because he could see none. Once, by way of
pleasing Keynolds, he pretended to lament that the
great painter's genius was not exerted on stuff more
durable than canvas, and suggested copper. Sir Joshua
urged the difficulty of procuring plates large enough
for historical subjects. "What foppish obstacles are
these ! " exclaimed Johnson. " Here is Thrale has a
thousand ton of copper: you may paint it all round
if you will, I suppose; it will serve him to brew in
afterwards. Will it not, Sir ? " (to Thrale who sate by.)
He always " civilised " to Dr. Burney, who has sup-
plied the following anecdote :
"After having talked slightingly of music, he was
TOUR IN WALES. . 73
observed to listen very attentively while Miss Thrale
played on the harpsichord ; and with eagerness he called
to her, ' Why don't you dash away like Burney ? ' Dr.
Burney upon this said to him, * I believe, Sir, we shall
make a musician of you at last.' Johnson with candid
complacency replied, * Sir, I shall be glad to have a
new sense given to me.' "
In 1774, the Thrales made a tour in Wales, mainly
for the purpose of revisiting her birthplace and estates.
They were accompanied by Johnson, who kept a diary
of the expedition, beginning July 5th and ending Sep-
tember 24th. It was preserved by his negro servant,
and Boswell had no suspicion of its existence, for he
says, " I do not find that he kept any journal or notes
of what he saw there." The diary was first published
by Mr. Duppa in 1816 ; and some manuscript notes by
Mrs. Thrale which reached that gentleman too late for
insertion, have been added in Mr. Murray's recent
edition of the Life. The first entry is:
" Tuesday, July 5. We left Streatham 11 A.M.
Price of four horses two shillings a mile. Barnet 1.40
P.M. On the road I read ' Tully's Epistles.' At night
at Dunstable." At Chester, he records : * We walked
round the walls, which are complete, and contain
one mile, three quarters, and one hundred and one
yards.' " Mrs. Thrale's comment is, " Of those ill-fated
walls Dr. Johnson might have learned the extent from
any one. He has since put me fairly out of counten-
ance by saying, *I have known my mistress fifteen
years, 'and never saw her fairly out of humour but on
74 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
Chester wall ; ' it was because he would keep Miss Thrale
beyond her hour of going to bed to walk on the wall,
where, from the want of light, I apprehended some acci-
dent to her perhaps to him."
He thus describes Mrs. Thrale's family mansion :
" Saturday, July 30. We went to Bach y Grraig, where
we found an old house, built 1567, in an uncommon
and incommodious form My mistress chatted about
tiring, but I prevailed on her to go to the top The
floors have been stolen : the windows are stopped The
house was less than I seemed to expect The Kiver
Clwyd is a brook with a bridge of one arch, about one
third of a mile The woods have many trees, gene-
rally young ; but some which seem to decay They
have been lopped The house never had a garden
The addition of another story would make an useful
house, but it cannot be great."
On the 4th August, they visited Ehuddlan Castle and
Bodryddan *, of which he says :
" Stapylton's house is pretty: there are pleasing shades
about it, with a constant spring that supplies a cold
bath. We then went out to see a cascade. I trudged
unwillingly, and was not sorry to find it dry. The water
was, however, turned on, and produced a very striking
cataract."
* Now the property of Mr. Shipley Conway, the great-grand-
son of Johnson's acquaintance, the Bishop of St. Asaph, and repre-
sentative, through females, of Sir John Conway or Conwy, to whom
Rhuddlan Castle, with its domain, was granted by Edward the
First.
TOUR IN WALES. 75
Mrs. Piozzi remarks on this passage : " He teased Mrs.
Cotton about her dry cascade till she was ready to cry." *
On two occasions, Johnson incidentally imputes a want
of liberality to Mrs. Thrale, which the general tenor of
her conduct belies :
" August 2. We went to Dymerchion Church, where
the old clerk acknowledged his mistress. It is the
parish church of Bach y Grraig ; a mean fabric ; Mr.
Salusbury (Mrs. Thrale's father) was buried in it. . .
The old clerk had great appearance of joy, and foolishly
said that he was now willing to die. He had only a
crown given him by my mistress."
" August 4. Mrs. Thrale lost her purse. She ex-
pressed so much uneasiness that I conclitded the sum
to be very great; but when I heard of only seven
guineas, I was glad to find she had so much sensibility
of money."
Johnson might have remarked, that the annoyance
we experience from a loss is seldom entirely regulated
by the pecuniary value of the thing lost.
On the way to Holywell he sets down : " Talk with
mistress about flattery; " on which she notes : " He said
I flattered the people to whose houses we went : I was
saucy and said I was obliged to be civil for two, mean-
ing himself and me.f He replied nobody would thank
* Bowles, the poet, on the unexpected arrival of a party to
see his grounds, was overheard giving a hurried order to set the
fountain playing, and carry the hermit his heard.
t Madame D'Arblay reports Mrs. Thrale saying at Streatham in
September, 1778 :
" I remember, Sir, when we were travelling in Wales, how you
76 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
me for compliments they did not understand. At
Ghvaynynog (Mr. Middleton's) however, he was flattered,
and was happy of course."
The other entries referring to the Thrales are:
"August 22. We went to visit Bodville, the place
where Mrs. Thrale was born, and the churches called
Tydweilliog and Llangwinodyl, which she holds by im-
propriation."
" August 24. "We went to see Bodville. Mrs. Thrale
remembered the rooms, and wandered over them, with
recollections of her childhood. This species of pleasure
is always melancholy. . . . Mr. Thrale purposes to
beautify the churches, and, if he prospers, will probably
restore the tithes. Mrs. Thrale visited a house where
she had been used to drink milk, which was left, with
an estate of 20QL a year, by one Lloyd, to a married
woman who lived with him."
" August 26. Note. Queeny's goats, 149, I think."
Without Mr. Duppa's aid this last entry would be
a puzzle for commentators. His note is :
"Mr. Thrale was near-sighted, and could not see
the goats browsing on Snowdon, and he promised his
daughter, who was a child of ten years old, a penny
for every goat she would show him, and Dr. Johnson
called me to account for my civility to the people ; ' Madam/ you
said, 'let me have no more of this idle commendation of nothing.
"Why is it, that whatever you see, and whoever you see, you are to
be so indiscriminately lavish of praise ? ' ' Why I'll tell you, Sir,'
said I, ' when I am with you, and Mr. Thrale, and Queeny, I am
obliged to be civil for four ! ' "
WALES. JOHNSONS LOVE OF FRUIT. 77
kept the account; so that it appears her father was
in debt to her one hundred and forty-nine pence.
Queeny was an epithet, which had its origin in the
nursery, by which (in allusion to Queen Esther) Miss
Thrale (whose name was Esther) was always distin-
guished by Johnson."
She was named after her mother, Hester, not Esther.
On September 13, Johnson sets down : "We came
to Lord Sandys', at Ombersley, where we were treated
with great civility." It was here, as he told Mrs. Thrale,
that for the only time in his life he had as much wall
fruit as he liked; yet she says that he was in the
habit of eating six or seven peaches before breakfast
during the fruit season at Streatham. Swift was also
fond of fruit : " observing (says Scott) that a gentle-
man in whose garden he walked with some friends,
seemed to have no intention to request them to eat
any, the Dean remarked that it was a saying of his
dear grandmother:
" ' Always pull a peach
When it is within your reach ; '
and helping himself accordingly, his example was- fol-
io wed by the whole company."
Thomson, the author of the " Castle of Indolence,"
was once seen lounging round Lord Burlington's garden,
with his hands in his waistcoat pockets, biting off the
sunny sides of the peaches.
Johnson's dislike to the Lytteltons was not abated by
his visit to Hagley, of which he says, " We made haste
78 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
away from a place where all were offended." Mrs.
Thrale's explanation is : " Mrs. Lyttelton, ci-devant Caro-
line Bristow, forced me to play at whist against my
liking, and her husband took away Johnson's candle
that he wanted to read by at the other end of the room.
Those, I trust, were the offences."
He. was not in much better humour at Combermere
Abbey, the seat of her relation, Sir Lynch Cotton
(grandfather of Lord Combermere), which is beautifully
situated on one of the finest lakes in England. He
commends the place grudgingly, passes a harsh judgment
on Lady Cotton, and is traditionally recorded to have
made answer to the baronet who inquired what he
thought of a neighbouring peer (Lord Kilmorey) : " A
dull, commonplace sort of man, just like you and your
brother." By way of compensation he has devoted two
or three pages of his diary to a bombastic description of
his lordship's grounds, which contrasts strangely with the
meagre notes of which the rest of it is composed.
In a letter to Levet, dated Lleweny, in Denbighshire,
August 16, 1774, printed by Boswell, is this sentence:
" Wales, so far as I have yet seen of it, is a very beautiful
and rich country, all enclosed and planted." Her
marginal note is : " Yet to please Mr. Thrale, he feigned
abhorrence of it."
Their impressions of one another as travelling com-
panions were sufficiently favourable to induce the party
(with the addition of Baretti) to make a short tour in
France in the autumn of the year following, 1775,
during part of which Johnson kept a diary in the same
TOUR IN FRANCE. 79
laconic and elliptical style. The only allusion to either
of his friends is :
" We went to Sansterre, a brewer. He brews with
about as much malt as Mr. Thrale, and sells his beer at
the same price, though he pays no duty for malt, and
little more than half as much for beer. Beer is sold
retail at sixpence a bottle."
In a letter to Levet, dated Paris, Oct. 22, 1775, he
says :
" We went to see the king and queen at dinner, and
the queen was so impressed by Miss, that she sent one
of the gentlemen to inquire who she was. I find all
true that you have ever told me at Paris. Mr. Thrale
is very liberal, and keeps us two coaches, and a very
fine table ; but I think our cookery very bad. Mrs.
Thrale got into a convent of English nuns, and I talked
with her through the grate, and I am very kindly used
by the English Benedictine friars."
A striking instance of Johnson's occasional imprac-
ticability occurred during this journey.
" When we were at Eouen together," says Mrs. Thrale,
" he took a great fancy to the Abbe Roffette, with
whom he conversed about the destruction of the order
of Jesuits, and condemned it loudly, as a blow to the
general power of the church, and likely to be followed
with many and dangerous innovations, which might at
length become fatal to religion itself, and shake even
the foundation of Christianity. The gentleman seemed
to wonder and delight in his conversation : the talk was
all in Latin, which both spoke fluently, and Mr. Johnson
80 LIFE AND WHITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
pronounced a long eulogium upon Milton with so much
ardour, eloquence, and ingenuity, that the abbe rose
from his seat and embraced him. My husband seeing
them apparently so charmed with the company of each
other, politely invited the abbe to England, intending
to oblige his friend; who, instead of thanking, repri-
manded him severely before the man, for such a sudden
burst of tenderness towards a person he could know
nothing at all of; and thus put a sudden finish to all
his own and Mr. Thrale's entertainment, from the com-
pany of the Abbe Koffette."
In a letter dated May 9, 1780, also, Mrs. Thrale al-
ludes to more than one disagreement in France :
"When did I ever plague you about contour, and
grace, and expression ? I have dreaded them all three
since that hapless day at Compiegne, when you teased
me so, and Mr. Thrale made what I hoped would have
proved a lasting peace ; but French ground is unfavour-
able to fidelity perhaps, and so now you begin again :
after having taken five years' breath, you might have
done more than this. Say another word, and I will
bring up afresh the history of your exploits at St.Denys
and how cross you were for nothing but some how or
other, our travels never make any part either of our
conversation or correspondence."
Joseph Baretti, who now formed one of the family,
is so mixed up with their history that a brief account
of him becomes indispensable. He was a Pied-
montese, whose position in his native country was not
of a kind to tempt him to remain in it, when Lord
BARETTI. 81
Charlemont, to whom he had been useful in Italy, pro-
posed his coming to England. His own story was that
he had lost at play the little property he had inherited
from his father, an architect at Pharo. The education
given him by his parents was limited to Latin ; he taught
himself English, French, Spanish, and Portuguese. His
talents, acquirements, and strength of mind must have
been considerable, for they soon earned him the esteem
and friendship of the most eminent members of the
Johnsonian circle, in despite of his arrogance. He came
to England in 1753 ; is kindly mentioned in one of
Johnson's letters in 1754 ; and when he was in Italy in
1761, his illustrious friend's letters to him are marked
by a tone of affectionate interest. Ceremony and ten-
derness are oddly blended in the conclusion of one of
them :
" May you, my Baretti, be very happy at Milan, or
some other place nearer to, Sir, your most affectionate
humble servant, SAMUEL JOHNSON."
Johnson remarked of Baretti in 1768 : "I know no
man who carries his head higher in conversation than
Baretti. There are strong powers in his mind. He
has not indeed many hooks, but with what hooks he
has, he grapples very forcibly." Madame D'Arblay was
more struck by his rudeness and violence than by his
intellectual vigour.*
On Oct. 20, 1769, Baretti was tried at the Old Bailey
on a charge of murder, for killing with a pocket knife
* See "The Diary," vol. i. p. 42L
VOL. I. G
82 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
one of three men who, with a woman of the town,
hustled him in the Haymarket.* He was acquitted,
and the event is principally memorable for the ap-
pearance of Johnson, Burke, Garrick, and Beauclerc as
witnesses to character. The substance of Johnson's
evidence is thus given in the "G-entlernan's Magazine" :
" Dr. J. I believe I began to be acquainted with
Mr. Baretti about the year 1753. or 1754. I have been
intimate with him. He is a man of literature, a very
studious man, a man of great diligence. He gets his
living by study. I have no reason to think he was
ever disordered with liquor in his life. A man that I
never knew to be otherwise than peaceable, and a man
that I take to be rather timorous. Q. Was he addicted
to pick up women in the streets ? Dr. J. I never
knew that he was. Q. How is he as to eyesight ?
Dr. J. He does not see me now, nor do I see him. I
do not believe he could be capable of assaulting any
body in the street, witho'ut great provocation."
The year after his acquittal Baretti published "Travels
through Spain, Portugal, and France ; " thus mentioned
by Johnson in a letter to Mrs. Thrale, dated Lichfield,
July 20, 1770 :
" That Baretti's book would please you all, I made
no doubt. I know not whether the world has ever
* In his defence, he said : " I hope it will be seen that my knife
was neither a weapon of offence or defence. I wear it to carve
fruit and sweetmeats, and not to kill my fellow creatures. It is
a general custom in France not to put knives on the table, so that
even ladies wear them in their pockets for general use."
BARETTI. 83
seen such travels before. Those whose lot it is to
ramble can seldom write, and those who know how to
write can seldom ramble."
The rate of remuneration showed that the world was
aware of the value of the acquisition. He gained 5001-
by this book. His " Frustra Literaria," published some
time before in Italy, had also attracted much attention,
and, according to Johnson, he was the first who ever
received money for copyright in Italy. In a biographical
notice of Baretti which appeared in the " Gentleman's
Magazine" for May, 1789, written by Dr. Vincent, Dean
of Westminster, it is stated that it was not distress
which compelled him to accept Mr. Thrale's hospitality,
but that he was over-persuaded by Johnson, contrary
to his own inclination, to undertake the instruction of
the Misses Thrale in Italian. "He was either nine
or eleven years almost entirely in that family," says
the Dean, " though he still rented a lodging in town,
during which period he expended his own 5001., and
received nothing in return for his instruction, but the
participation of a good table, and 1501. by way of
presents. Instead of his letters to Mrs. Piozzi in the
* European Magazine,' had he told this plain unvar-
nished tale, he would have convicted that lady of avarice
and ingratitude, without incurring the danger of a re-
ply, or exposing his memory to be insulted by her
advocates."
As he had a pension of 801. a year, besides the in-
terest of his 500/., he did not want money. If he had
been allowed to want it, the charge of avarice would lie
O 2
84 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
at Mr., not Mrs., Thrale's door; and his memory was
exposed to no insult beyond the stigma which (as we
shall presently see) his conduct and language necessarily
fixed upon it. All his literary friends did not entertain
the same high opinion of him. An unpublished letter
from Dr. Warton to his brother contains the following
passage :
" He (Huggins, the translator of Ariosto) abuses
Baretti infernally, and says that he one day lent Ba-
retti a gold watch, and could never get it afterwards ;
that after many excuses Baretti skulked, and then got
Johnson to write to Mr. Huggins a suppliant letter;
that this letter stopped Huggins awhile, while Baretti
got a protection from the Sardinian ambassador ; and
that, at last, with great difficulty, the watch was got
from a pawnbroker to whom Baretti had sold it."
This extract is copied from a valuable contribution to
the literary annals of the eighteenth century, for which
we are indebted to the colonial press.* It is the diary
of an Irish clergyman, containing strong internal evi-
dence of authenticity, although nothing more is known
of it than that the manuscript was discovered behind an
old press in one of the offices of the Supreme Court of
New South Wales. That such a person saw a good
deal of Johnson in 1775, is proved by Boswell, whose
* Diary of a Visit to England in 1775. By an Irishman (the Rev.
Doctor Thomas Campbell, author of " A Philosophical Survey of
the South of Ireland.") And other Papers by the same hand. With
Notes by Samuel Raymond, M.A., Prothonotary of the Supreme
Court of New South Wales. Sydney. Waugh and Cox. 1854.
MODE OF LIFE. 85
accuracy is frequently confirmed in return. In one
marginal note Mrs. Thrale says : " He was a fine showy
talking man. Johnson liked him of all things in a year
or two." In another : " Dr. Campbell was a very tall
handsome man, and, speaking of some other High-
bernian, used this expression : ' Indeed now, and upon
my honour, Sir, I am but a Twitter to him.' " *
Several of his entries throw light on the Thrale
establishment :
14th. This day I called at Mr. Thrale's, where I
was received with all respect by Mr. and Mrs. Thrale.
She is a very learned lady, and joins to the charms of
her own sex, the manly understanding of ours. The
immensity of the brewery astonished me."
"16^ Dined with Mr. Thrale along with Dr.
Johnson, and Baretti. Baretti is a plain sensible
man, who seems to know the world well. He talked
to me of the invitation given him by the College of
Dublin, but said it (100. a year and rooms) was not
worth his acceptance ; and if it had been, he said, in
point of profit, still he would not have accepted it, for
that now he could not live out of London. He had
returned a few years ago to his own country, but he
could not enjoy it ; and he was obliged to return to
London, to those connexions he had been making for
near thirty years past. He told me he had several
families with whom, both in town and country, he
could go at any time and spend a month : he is at this
* He is similarly described in the " Letters," vol. i. p. 329.
o 3
86 LIFE AND WHITINGS OF MItS. PIOZZI.
time on these terms at Mr. Thrale's, and he knows how
to keep his ground. Talking as we were at tea of the
magnitude of the beer vessels, he said there was one
thing in Mr. Thrale's house still more extraordinary;
meaning his wife. She gulped the pill very prettily,
so much for Baretti ! Johnson, you are the very man
Lord Chesterfield describes : a Hottentot indeed, and
though your abilities are respectable, you never can be
respected yourself. He has the aspect of an idiot,
without the faintest ray of sense gleaming from any
one feature with the most awkward garb, and un-
powdered grey wig, on one side only of his head he
is for ever dancing the devil's jig, and sometimes he
makes the most driveling effort to whistle some thought
in his absent paroxysms."
" 25th. Dined at Mr. Thrale's, where there were
ten or more gentlemen, and but one lady besides
Mrs. Thrale. The dinner was excellent : first course,
soups at head and foot, removed by fish and a saddle of
mutton ; second course, a fowl they call galena at head,
and a capon larger than some of our Irish turkeys, at
foot ; third course, four different sorts of ices, pine-apple,
grape, raspberry, and a fourth ; in each remove there
were I think fourteen dishes. The two first courses
were served in massy plate. I sat beside Baretti, which
was to me the richest part of the entertainment. He
and Mr. and Mrs. Thrale joined in expressing to me Dr.
Johnson's concern that he could not give me the meet-
ing that day, but desired that I should go and see him."
"April 1st. Dined at Mr. Thrale's, whom in
DINNERS. 87
proof of the magnitude of London, I cannot help
remarking, no coachman, and this is the third I
have called, could find without inquiry. But of this
by the way. There was Murphy, Boswell, and Baretti :
the two last, as I learned just before I entered, are
mortal foes, so much so that Murphy and Mrs. Thrale
agreed that Boswell expressed a desire that Baretti
should be hanged upon that unfortunate affair of his
killing, &c. Upon this hint, I went, and without any
sagacity, it was easily discernible, for upon Baretti's
entering Boswell did not rise, and upon Baretti's descry
of Boswell he grinned a perturbed glance. Politeness
however smooths the most hostile brows, and theirs
were smoothed. Johnson was the subject, both before
and after dinner, for it was the boast of all but myself,
that under that roof were the Doctor's fast friends. His
bon-mots were retailed in such plenty, that they, like a
surfeit, could not lie upon my memory."
"N.B. The 'Tour to the Western Isles' was written
in twenty days, and the ' Patriot ' in three ; ' Taxation
no Tyranny,' within a week : and not one of them would
have yet seen the light, had it not been for Mrs. Thrale
and Baretti, who stirred him up by laying wagers."
" April 8th. Dined with Thrale, where Dr. Johnson
was, and Boswell (and Baretti as usual). The Doctor
was not in as good spirits as he was at Dilly's. He had
supped the night before with Lady , Miss Jeffries,
one of the maids of honour, Sir Joshua Eeynolds,
&c., at Mrs. Abington's. He said Sir C. Thompson,
and some others who were there, spoke like people
o 4
83 LJFE AND WHITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
who had seen good company, and so did Mrs. Abington
herself, who could not have seen good company."
Boswell's note, alluding to the same topic, is -
" On Saturday, April 8, I dined with him at Mr.
Thrale's, where we met the Irish Dr. Campbell. John-
son had supped the night before at Mrs. Abington's
with some fashionable people whom he named ; and he
seemed much pleased with having made one in so
elegant a circle. Nor did he omit to pique his mistress
a little with jealousy of her housewifery ; for he said,
with a smile, ' Mrs. Abington's jelly, my dear lady, was
better than yours.' "
The monotony of a constant residence at Streatham
was varied by trips to Bath or Brighton ; and it was so
much a matter of course for Johnson to make one of
the party, that when, not expecting him so soon back
from a journey with Boswell, the Thrale family and
Baretti started for Bath without him, Boswell is dis-
posed to treat their departure without the lexicographer
as a slight to him.
In his first letter of condolence on Mr. Thrale's death,
Johnson speaks of her having enjoyed happiness in
marriage, "to a degree of which, without personal
knowledge, I should have thought the description fa-
bulous." The " Autobiography " tells a widely different
tale. The mortification of not finding herself appre-
ciated by her husband was poignantly increased, during
the last years of his life, by finding another offensively
preferred to her. He was so fascinated by one of
her fair friends, as to lose sight altogether of what
JEALOUSY. 89
was due to appearances or to the feelings of his wife.
The story she told the author of " Piozziana," in
proof of Johnson's want of firmness, clearly refers to
this lady :
" I had remarked to her that Johnson's readiness to
condemn any moral deviation in others was, in a man
so entirely before the public as he was, nearly a proof
of his own spotless purity of conduct. She said, ' Yes,
Johnson was, on the whole, a rigid moralist ; but he
could be ductile, I may say, servile ; and I will give
you an instance. We had a large dinner-party at our
house ; Johnson sat on one side of me, and Burke on
the other ; and in the company there was a young fe-
male (Mrs. Piozzi named her)*, to whom I, in my pee-
vishness, thought Mr. Thrale superfluously attentive, to
the neglect of me and others ; especially of myself,
then near my confinement, and dismally low-spirited ;
notwithstanding which, Mr. T. very unceremoniously
begged of me to change place with Sophy , who
was threatened with a sore throat, and might be injured
by sitting near the door. I had scarcely swallowed a
spoonful of soup when this occurred, and was so overset
by the coarseness of the proposal, that I burst into tears,
said something petulant that perhaps ere long, the
lady might be at the head of Mr. T.'s table, without
displacing the mistress of the house, &c., and so left
the apartment. I retired to the drawing-room, and for
* Sophia Streatfield, the charming S.S., as Thrale and Johnson
called her, and the lady of the ivory neck &c. (anfe, p. 50).
There is a good deal about her in the "Autobiography."
90 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
an hour or two contended with my vexation, as I best
could, when Johnson and Burke came up. On seeing
them, I resolved to give a jobation to both, but fixed
on Johnson for my charge, and asked him if he had
noticed what passed, what I had suffered, and whether,
allowing for the state of my nerves, I was much to
blame ?' He answered, f Why, possibly not; your feel-
ings were outraged.' I said, * Yes, greatly so ; and I
cannot help remarking with what blandness and com-
posure you witnessed the outrage. Had this transaction
been told of others, your anger would have known no
bounds ; but, towards a man who gives good dinners,
&c., you were meekness itself ! ' Johnson coloured, and
Burke, I thought, looked foolish ; but I had not a word
of answer from either/'
The only excuse for Mr. Thrale is to be found in his
mental and bodily condition at the time. This made
it impossible for Johnson or Burke to interfere without
a downright quarrel with him, nor without making
matters worse. Highly to her credit, she did not omit
any part of her own duties because he forgot his. In
March, 1781, a few weeks before his death, she writes to
Johnson :
" I am willing to show myself in Southwark, or in
any place, for my master's pleasure or advantage ; but
have no present conviction that to be.re-elected would
be advantageous, so shattered a state as his nerves are
in just now Do not you, however, fancy for a mo-
ment, that I shrink from fatigue or desire to escape
from doing my duty ; spiting one's antagonist is a
THRALE'S ILLNESS. 91
reason that never ought to operate, and never does ope-
rate with me : I care nothing about a rival candidate's
innuendos, I care only about my husband's health and
fame; and if we find that he earnestly wishes to be
once more member for the Borough he shall be mem-
ber, if anything done or suffered by me will help make
him so."
Eeferring to the spring of 1781, "I found," says
Boswell, " on visiting Mr. Thrale that he was now very
ill, and had removed, I suppose by the solicitation of
Mrs. Thrale, to a house in Grrosvenor Square." She has
written opposite : " Spiteful again ! He went by direction
of his physicians where they could easiest attend to
him." On February 7, 1781, she writes to Madame
D'Arblay:
" Yesterday I had a conversazione. Mrs. Montagu
was brilliant in diamonds, solid in judgment, critical in
talk. Sophy smiled, Piozzi sung, Pepys panted with
admiration, Johnson was good humoured, Lord John
Clinton attentive, Dr. Bowdler lame, and my master
not asleep. Mrs. Ord looked elegant, Lady Rothes
dainty, Mrs. Davenant dapper, and Sir Philip's curls
were all blown about by the wind. Mrs. Byron re-
joices that her Admiral and I agree so well ; the way
to his heart is connoisseurship it seems, and for a back-
ground and contorno, who comes up to Mrs. Thrale, you
know."
We learn from Madame D'Arblay's Journal, that, to-
wards the end of March, 1781, Mr. Thrale had re-
solved on going abroad with his wife, and that Johnson
92 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
was to accompany them, but a subsequent entry states
that the doctors condemned the plan ; and " therefore,"
she adds, "it is settled that a great meeting of his
friends is to take place before he actually prepares for
the journey, and they are to encircle him in a body,
and endeavour, by representations and entreaties, to
prevail with him to give it up ; and I have little doubt
myself but, amongst us, we shall be able to succeed."
This is one of the oddest schemes ever projected by a
set of eminently learned and accomplished gentlemen
and ladies for the benefit of a hypochondriac, patient.
Its execution was prevented by his death April 4th,
1781. The hurried note from Mrs. Thrale announcing
the event, beginning, " Write to me, pray for me," is
endorsed by Madame D'Arblay : " Written a few hours
after the death of Mr. Thrale, which happened by a
sudden stroke of apoplexy, on the morning of a day on
which half the fashion of London had been invited to an
intended assembly at his house in Grosvenor Square."
These invitations had been sent out by his own express
desire : so little was he aware of his danger. Letters
and messages of condolence poured in from all sides.
Johnson says all that can be said in the way of counsel
or consolation :
" I do not exhort you to reason yourself into tran-
quillity. We must first pray, and then labour ; first im-
plore the blessing of God, and those means which He
puts into our hands. Cultivated ground has few weeds ;
a mind occupied by lawful business, has little room for
useless regret.
DEATH OF THRALE. 93
" We read the will to-day ; but I will not fill my first
letter with any other account than that, with all my
zeal for your advantage, I am satisfied ; and that the
other executors, more used to consider property than I,
commended it for wisdom and equity. Yet why should
I not tell you that you have five hundred pounds for
your immediate expenses, and two thousand pounds a-
year, with both the houses and all the % goods ?
"Let us pray for one another, that the time, whether
long or short, that shall yet be granted us, may be well
spent ; and that when this life, which at the longest is
very short, shall come to an end, a better may begin
which shall never end."
On April 9th he writes :
" DEAREST MADAM, That you are gradually recover-
ing your tranquillity, is the effect to be humbly ex-
pected from trust in Grod. Do not represent life as
darker than it is. Your loss has been very great, but
you retain more than almost any other can hope to
possess. You are high in the opinion of mankind ; you
have children from whom much pleasure may be ex-
pected ; and that you will find many friends, you have
no reason to doubt. Of my friendship, be it worth
more or less, I hope you think yourself certain, without
much art or care. It will not be easy for me to repay
the benefits that I have received ; but I hope to be
always ready at your call. Our sorrow has different
effects; you are withdrawn into solitude, and I am
driven into company. I am afraid of thinking what I
94 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
have lost. I never had such a friend before. Let me
have your prayers and those of my dear Queeny.
" The prudence and resolution of your design to re-
turn so soon to your business and your duty deserves
great praise ; I shall communicate it on Wednesday to
the other executors. Be pleased to let me know whether
you would have me come to Streatham to receive you,
or stay here till the next day."
Johnson was one of the executors, and took pride in
discharging his share of the trust. Mrs. Thrale's ac-
count (in the "Autobiography") of the pleasure he
took in signing the cheques, is incidentally confirmed
by Boswell :
" I could not but be somewhat diverted by hearing
Johnson talk in a pompous manner of his new office,
and particularly of the concerns of the brewery, which
it was at last resolved should be sold. Lord Lucan
tells a very good story, which, if not precisely exact, is
certainly characteristical ; that when the sale of Thrale's
brewery was going forward, Johnson appeared bustling
about, with an ink-horn and pen in his button-hole,
like an excise-man ; and on being asked what he really
considered to be the value of the property which was to
be disposed of, answered, ' We are not here to sell a
parcel of boilers and vats, but the potentiality of grow-
ing rich beyond the dreams of avarice.' "
The executors had legacies of 2001. each ; Johnson,
to the surprise of his friends, being placed on no
better footing than the rest. Many and heavy as were
the reproaches subsequently heaped upon the widow,
SALE OF THE BREWERY. 95
no one accused her of being in any respect wanting in
energy, propriety, or self-respect at this period. She
took the necessary steps for promoting her own interests
and those of her children with prudence and prompti-
tude. Madame D'Arblay, who was carrying on a flirta-
tion with one of the executors (Mr. Crutchley), and had
personal motives for watching their proceedings, writes,
April 29th :
" Miss Thrale is steady and constant, and very sin-
cerely grieved for her father.
" The four executors, Mr. Cator, Mr. Crutchley, Mr.
Henry Smith, and Dr. Johnson, have all behaved gene-
rously and honourably, and seem determined to give
Mrs. Thrale all the comfort and assistance in their
power. She is to carry on the business jointly with
them. Poor soul ! it is a dreadful toil and worry to
her."
" Streatham, Thursday. This was the great and
most important day to all this house, upon which the
sale of the brewery was to be decided. Mrs. Thrale
went early to town, to meet all the executors, and
Mr. Barclay, the Quaker, who was the bidder. She
was in great agitation of mind, and told me if all went
well she would wave a white pocket-handkerchief out
of the coach window.
" Four o'clock came and dinner was ready, and no
Mrs. Thrale. Five o'clock followed, and no Mrs.
Thrale. Queeny and I went out upon the lawn, where
we sauntered, in eager expectation, till near six, and
then the coach appeared in sight, and a white pocket-
96 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
handkerchief was waved from it. I ran to the door of
it to meet her, and she jumped out of it, and gave me
a thousand embraces while I gave my congratulations.
We went instantly to her dressing-room, where she told
me, in brief, how the matter had been transacted, and
then we went down to dinner. Dr. Johnson and Mr.
Crutchley had accompanied her home."
The event is thus announced to Langton by Johnson,
in a letter printed by Boswell, dated June 16, 1781 :
" You will perhaps be glad to hear that Mrs. Thrale is
disencumbered of her brewhouse, and that it seemed to
the purchaser so far from an evil that he was content to
give for it 135,OOOL Is the nation ruined." Marginal
note : " I suppose he was neither glad nor sorry/'
The brewery was -purchased by Messrs. Barclay, Per-
kins, and Co. The house at Streatham was left to
Mrs. Thrale for her life, but in the course of the
following year she made up her mind to let it; and
there was no foundation for the remark with which
Boswell accompanies his account of Johnson's solemn
farewell to Streatham :
" Whether," he says, " her attachment to him was
already divided by another object, I am unable to
ascertain ; but it is plain that Johnson's penetration
was alive to her neglect or forced attention ; for on the
6th October this year, 1782, we find him making a
'parting use of the library' at Streatham, and pro-
nouncing a prayer which he composed on leaving Mrs.
Thrale's/am%."
In one of his memorandum books Johnson wrote :
JOHNSON AT BRIGHTON. 97
" Sunday, went to church at Streatham, Templo valedixi
cum oaculo" (I bade farewell to the temple with a
kiss) ; and in the same book is a Latin entry, particu-
larising his last dinner at Streatham, and ending " Streat-
hamiam quando revisam ? " (when shall I revisit Streat-
ham ?)*
Madame D'Arblay's Diary proves that, far from having
left Mrs. Thrale's family, he was living with them at
Brighton on the 26th of the same month, having come
with them from Streatham, and on October 28th she
writes :
" At dinner, we had Dr. Delap and Mr. Selwyn, who
accompanied us in the evening to a ball ; as did also
Dr. Johnson, to the universal amazement of all who
saw him there ; but he said he had found it so dull
being quite alone the preceding evening, that he deter-
mined upon going with us ; ' for,' he said, ' it cannot
be worse than being alone.' Strange that he should
think so ! I am sure I am not of his mind."
On the 29th, she records that Johnson behaved very
rudely to Mr. Pepys, and fairly drove him from the
* Mr. Croker terms this entry his farewell to the kitchen. It
runs thus :
' "Oct. 6. Die Dominica, 1782.
" Pransus sum Streathamise agninum cms coctum cum herbis
(spinach) comminutis, farcimen farinaceum cum uvis passis, lum-
bos bovillos, et pullum gallinse Turcicse ; et post carnes missas,
ficus, uvas, non admodum maturas, ita voluit anni intemperies.
cum malis Persicis, iis tamen duris. Non Isetus accubui, eibuni
modice sumpsi, ne intemperantia ad extremum peccaretur. Si
recte memini, in mentem veneruut epulae in exequiis Hadoni celf-
bratae. Streathamiam quando revisam ?" Rose MSS,
VOL. I. H
98 LIFE AND WHITINGS OF MKS. PIOZZI.
house. The entry for November 10th is remarkable :
" We spent this evening at Lady De Ferrars, where Dr.
Johnson accompanied us, for the first time he has been
invited of our parties since my arrival." On the 20th
November, she tells us that Mrs. and the three Miss
Thrales and herself got up early to bathe. " We then
returned home, and dressed by candle-light, and, as
soon as we could get Dr. Johnson ready, we set out upon
our journey in a coach and a chaise, and arrived in
Argyll Street at dinner time. Mrs. Thrale has there
fixed her tent for this short winter, which will end with
the beginning of April, when her foreign journey takes
place."
On Boswell's arrival in London the year following
(March 20, 1783) he found Johnson still domesticated
with Mrs. Thrale and her daughters in Argyll Street,
and judging from their manner to each other, " ima-
gined all to be as well as formerly." But three months
afterwards (June 19th) Johnson writes to her:
" I am sitting down in no cheerful solitude to write a
narrative which would once have affected you with ten-
derness and sorrow, but which you will perhaps pass
over now with the careless glance of frigid indifference.
For this diminution of regard, however, I know not
whether I ought to blame you, who may have reasons
which I cannot know, and I do not blame myself, who
have for a great part of human life done you what good
I could, and have never done you evil."
Two days before, he had suffered a paralytic stroke,
and lost the power of speech for a period. After mi-
JOHNSON'S COMPLAINTS. 99
nutely detailing his ailments and their treatment by his
medical advisers, he proceeds :
" How this will be received by you I know not. I
hope you will sympathise with me ; but perhaps
" My mistress gracious, mild, and good,
Cries ! Is he dumb ? Tis time he should.
" But can this be possible ? I hope it cannot. I
hope that what, when I could speak, I spoke of you, and
to you, will be in a sober and serious hour remembered
by you ; and surely it cannot be remembered but with
some degree of kindness. I have loved you with vir-
tuous affection; I have honoured you with sincere
esteem. Let not all our endearments be forgotten, but
let me have in this great distress your pity and your
prayers. You see I yet turn to you with my complaints
as a settled and unalienable friend ; do not, do not drive
me from you, for I have not deserved either neglect or
hatred."
Mrs. Thrale was at Bath, and did all she could to
comfort him. Whilst his illness lasted, he sent her a
regular diary, and on June 28th he sets down in it :
" Your letter is just such as I desire, and as from you I
hope always to deserve." He was so absorbed with his
own sufferings, as to make no allowance for hers. Yet
her own health was in a very precarious state, and in
the autumn of the same year, his complaints of silence
and neglect are suspended by the intelligence that her
daughter Sophia was lying at death's door. On March
27, 1784, she writes :
H 2
100 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
" You tell one of my daughters that you know not
with distinctness the cause of my complaints. I believe
she who lives with me knows them no better ; one very
dreadful one is however removed by dear Sophia's re-
covery. It is kind in you to quarrel no more about
expressions which were not meant to offend ; but unjust
to suppose, I have not lately tho'ught myself dying.
Let us, however, take the Prince of Abyssinia's advice,
and not add to the other evils of life the bitterness of
controversy. If courage is a noble and generous quality,
let us exert it to the last, and at the last : if faith is a
Christian virtue, let us willingly receive and accept that
support it will most surely bestow and do permit me
to repeat those words with which I know not why you
were displeased : Let us leave behind us the best example
that we can.
" All this is not written by a person in high health
and happiness, but by a fellow-sufferer, who has more
to endure than she can tell, or you can guess ; and now
let us talk of the Severn salmons, which will be coming
in soon ; I shall send you one of the finest, and shall be
glad to hear that your appetite is good."
The pleasures of intimacy in friendship depend far
more on external circumstances than people of a sen-
timental turn of mind are willing to concede ; and
when constant companionship ceases to suit the con-
venience of both parties, the chances are that it will be
dropped on the first favourable opportunity. Admira-
tion, esteem, or affection may continue to be felt for
one whom, from altered habits or new ties, we can no
DISAGREEMENT WITH JOHNSON. 101
longer receive as an inmate or an established member
of the family circle. It is to be regretted, therefore,
that Mrs. Thrale should have rested her partial es-
trangement from Johnson upon grounds which would
justify a suspicion that much of the cordiality she had
shown him during the palmy days of their friendship
had been forced. In her " Anecdotes," after mentioning
an instance of his violence, she says :
" Such accidents, however, occurred too often, and I
was forced to take advantage of my lost lawsuit, and
plead inability of purse to remain longer in London or
its vicinage. I had been crossed in my intentions of
going abroad, and found it convenient, for every reason
of health, peace, and pecuniary circumstances, to retire
to Bath, where I knew Mr. Johnson would not follow me
and where I could for that reason command some little
portion of time for my own use ; a thing impossible
while I remained at Streatham or at London, as my hours,
carriage, and servants, had long been at his command
who would not rise in the morning till twelve o'clock
perhaps, and oblige me to make breakfast for him till
the bell rung for dinner, though much displeased if the
toilet was neglected, and though much of the time we
passed together was spent in blaming or deriding, very
justly, my neglect of economy, and waste of that money
which might make many families happy. The original
reason of our connexion, his particularly disordered
health and spirits, had been long at an end, and he
had no other ailments than old age and general in-
firmity, which every professor of medicine was ardently
B 3
102 LIFE AND WHITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
zealous and generally attentive to palliate, and to con-
tribute all in their power for the prolongation of a life
so valuable. Veneration for his virtue, reverence for his
talents, delight in his conversation, and habitual en-
durance of a yoke my husband first put upon me, and
of which he contentedly bore his share for sixteen or
seventeen years, made me go on so long with Mr. John-
son ; but the perpetual confinement I will own to have
been terrifying in the first years of our friendship, and
irksome in the last ; nor could I pretend to support it
without help, when my coadjutor was no more. To
the assistance we gave him, the shelter our house
afforded to his uneasy fancies, and to the pains we
took to soothe or repress them, the world perhaps is
indebted for the three political pamphlets, the new edi-
tion and correction of his Dictionary, and for the Poets'
Lives, which he would scarce have lived, I think, and
kept his faculties entire, to have written, had not inces-
sant care been exerted at the time of his first coming
to be our constant guest in the country ; and several
times after that, when he found himself particularly
oppressed with diseases incident to the most vivid and
fervent imaginations. I shall for ever consider it as the
greatest honour which could be conferred on any one, to
have been the confidential friend of Dr. Johnson's health,
and to have in some measure, with Mr. Thrale's assist-
ance, saved from distress at least, if not from worse, a
mind great beyond the comprehension of common
mortals and good beyond all hope of imitation from
perishable beings."
PIOZZI. 103
This, in forensic phrase, is her case.
That the resolution to live more apart from her
venerated friend would have been taken independently
of Piozzi, is likely enough ; but she had little reason to
wonder or complain that it was attributed to her growing
affection for her future husband. Her account of the
commencement of their acquaintance, and the growth
of their attachment, forms one of the most striking
fragments of her Autobiography. She says that in
August, 1780, Madame D'Arblay recommended him by
letter as " a man likely to lighten the burden of life to
her," and that both she and Mr. Thrale took to him at
once. Madame D'Arblay is silent on the subject of the
introduction or recommendation. She told the Eev.
W. Harness, who told me, that the first time Mrs.
Thrale was in a room with Piozzi, she stood behind him
when he was singing, and mimicked his gestures. On
August 24, 1780, Madame D'Arblay writes: "I have
not seen Piozzi ; he left me your letter, which indeed
is a charming one, though its contents puzzled me much
whether to make me sad or merry." In her Diary,
dated Streatham, July 16, 1781, she sets down :
" You will believe I was not a little surprised to see
Sacchini. He is going to the Continent with Piozzi,
and Mrs. Thrale invited them both to spend the last
day at Streatham, and from hence proceed to Mar-
gate."
" The first song he sang, beginning ' En quel amabil
volto,' you may perhaps know, but I did not ; it is a
charming mezza bravura. He and Piozzi then sung
H 4
104 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
together the duet of the * Amore Soldato ;' and nothing
could be much more delightful ; Piozzi taking pains to
sing his very best, and Sacchini, with his soft but de-
licious whisper, almost thrilling me by his exquisite and
pathetic expression. They then went through that
opera, great part of *Creso,' some of 'Erifile,' and
much of ' Kinaldo.' "
In February, 1782, Piozzi is thus mentioned in a
letter from Mrs. Thrale to Madame D'Arblay : " This
morning I was with him (Johnson) again, and this
evening Mrs. Ord's conversation and Piozzi's cara voce
have kept away care pretty well." It was never as-
serted or insinuated by her bitterest enemies that her
regard for him took too warm a tinge whilst Thrale
lived, and it appears to have ripened slowly into love,
manifesting no symptoms calculated to excite suspicion
till the year before the crisis. Piozzi's attentions to the
wealthy widow had attracted Johnson's notice without
troubling his peace. On November 24th, 1781, he wrote
from Ashbourne : " Piozzi, I find, is coming in spite of
Miss Harriet's prediction, or second sight, and when he
comes and / come, you will have two about you that
love you ; and I question if either of us heartily care
how few more you have. But how many soever they
may be, I hope you keep your kindness for me, and I
have a great mind to have Queeny's kindness too."
Again, December 3rd, 1781 : " You have got Piozzi
again, notwithstanding pretty Harriet's dire denuncia-
tions. The Italian translation which he has brought,
you will find no great accession to your library, for the
PIOZZI. 105
writer seems to understand very little English. When
we meet we can compare some passages. Pray con-
trive a multitude of good things for us to do when we
meet. Something that may hold all together ; though
if any thing makes me love you more, it is going from
you."
Madame D'Arblay, who registers her friend's move-
ments as carefully and minutely as her own, states in
August, 1782, that Streatham had been let to Lord
Shelburne, and that " My dear Mrs. Thrale, the friend,
though not the most dear friend, of my heart, is going
abroad for three years certain. This scheme has been
some time in a sort of distant agitation, but it is now
brought to a resolution. Much private business belongs
to it relative to her detestable lawsuit ; but much private
inclination is also joined with it relative to her long
wishing to see Italy."
This scheme of visiting Italy was abandoned, and the
friends continued living on the usual terms ; Mrs.
Thrale's time, as we learn from the Diary, being divided
between Argyll Street, Brighton, and Bath. In the mean-
time, Piozzi's suit had been successfully prosecuted, and
her growing inclination for him, although she resisted it
with might and main, at length got the better of pride
and prudence, and in the spring of 1783 she had entered
into a formal engagement to become his wife. The re-
pugnance of her daughters to the match was reasonable
and intelligible, but to appreciate the tone taken by her
friends, we must bear in mind the social position of
Italian singers and musical performers at the period.
106 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
" Amusing vagabonds " are the epithets by which Lord
Byron designates Catalani and Naldi, in 1809*; and
such is the light in which they were undoubtedly re-
garded in 1 783. Mario would have been treated with
the same indiscriminating illiberality as Piozzi. The
newspapers took up the subject, and rang the changes
on the amorous disposition of the widow and the adroit
cupidity of the fortune-hunter. So pelting and pitiless
was the storm of taunts and reproaches, and so urgent
were the remonstrances, that a temporary reaction was
effected : her promise was withdrawn ; her letters were
returned ; and Piozzi was persuaded to leave the country.
But the sustained effort imposed upon her was beyond
her strength : her health gave way under the resulting
conflict of emotions ; and her daughters reluctantly
connived at his recall by her physician as- a measure
* " Well may the nobles of our present race
Watch each distortion of a Naldi's face ;
Well may they smile on Italy's buffoons,
And worship Catalani's pantaloons."
" Naldi and Catalani require little notice ; for the visage of the
one and the salary of the other will enable us long to recollect
these amusing vagabonds.'' English Sards and Scotch Revieicers.
Artists in general, and men of letters by profession, did not rank
much higher in the fine world. (See Miss Berry's " Eng-
land and France," vol. ii. p. 42.) Iffland, the German dramatist,
had a liaison with a Prussian woman of rank. On her husband's
death he proposed marriage, and was indignantly refused. The lady
was conscious of no degradation from being his mistress, but
would have forfeited both caste and self-respect by becoming his
wife.
SECOND MARRIAGE. 107
on which her life depended. She was married to him
on the 25th of July, 1784.
Madame D'Arblay has recorded what took place be
tween Mrs. Piozzi and herself on the occasion :
Miss F. Burney to Mrs. Piozzi.
" Norbury Park, Aug. 10, 1784.
" When my wondering eyes first looked over the
letter I received last night, my mind instantly dictated
a high-spirited vindication of the consistency, integrity,
and faithfulness of the friendship thus abruptly re-
proached and cast away. But a sleepless night gave
me leisure to recollect that you were ever as generous
as precipitate, and that your own heart would do justice
to mine, in the cooler judgment of future reflection.
Committing myself, therefore, to that period, I deter-
mined simply to assure you, that if my last letter hurt
either you or Mr. Piozzi, I am no less sorry than sur-
prised ; and that if it offended you, I sincerely beg
your pardon.
" Not to that time, however, can I wait to acknow-
ledge the pain an accusation so unexpected has caused
me, nor the heartfelt satisfaction with which I shall
receive, when you are able to write it, a softer renewal
of regard.
" May Heaven direct and bless you !
"F. B.
" N.B. This is the sketch of the answer which F. B.
most painfully wrote to the unmerited reproach of not
103 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
sending cordial congratulations upon a marriage which
she had uniformly, openly, and with deep and avowed
affliction, thought wrong.
" Mrs. Piozzi to Miss Burney.
" WeUbeck Street, No. 33, Cavendish Square.
Friday, Aug. 13, 1784.
" Give yourself no serious concern, sweetest Burney.
All is well, and I am too happy myself to make a friend
otherwise ; quiet your kind heart immediately, and love
my husband if you love his and your
" H. L. PIOZZI.
" N.B. To this kind note, F. B. wrote the warmest
and most affectionate and heartfelt reply; but never
received another word ! And here and thus stopped
a correspondence of six years of almost unequalled
partiality, and fondness on her side ; and affection,
gratitude, admiration, and sincerity on that of F. B.,
who could only conjecture the cessation to be caused
by the resentment of Piozzi, when informed of her
constant opposition to the union."
Of the six letters which passed between Johnson and
Mrs. Piozzi on the same subject, only two (Nos. 1 and 5)
have hitherto been made public: and the incomplete-
ness of the correspondence has caused the most em-
barrassing confusion in the minds of biographers and
editors, too prone to act on the maxim, that, wherever
female reputation is concerned, we should hope for the
CORRESPONDENCE ON MARRIAGE. 109
best and believe the worst. Hawkins, apparently igno-
rant that she had written to Johnson to announce her
intention, says, " He was made uneasy by a report "
which induced him to write a strong letter of remon-
strance, of which what he calls an adumbration was
published in the " Gentleman's Magazine " for December
1784. Mr. Croker, avoiding a similar error, says:
" In the lady's own (part) publication of the correspon-
dence, this letter (No. 1 ) is given as from Mrs. Piozzi,
and is signed with the initial of her name : Dr. Johnson's
answer is also addressed to Mrs. Piozzi, and both the
letters allude to the matter as done ; yet it appears by
the periodical publications of the day, that the marriage
did not take place until the 25th July. The editor
knew not how to account for this but by supposing that
Mrs. Piozzi, to avoid Johnson's importunity, had stated
that as done which was only settled to be done"
The matter is made plain by the circular (No. 2)
which states that " Piozzi is coming back from Italy."
He arrived on July 2nd, after a fifteen months' absence,
which proved both his loyalty and the sincerity of the
struggle in her own heart and mind. There is no signa-
ture to her first autograph letter, and both Dr. Johnson's
autograph letters are addressed to Mrs. Thrale. But
she has occasioned the mistake into which so many have
fallen, by her mode of heading these when she printed
the two-volume edition of "Letters "in 1788. By the
kindness of Mr. Salusbury I am now enabled to print the
whole correspondence, with the exception of her last
letter, which she describes.
110 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
No. 1.
" Mrs. Piozzi to Dr. Johnson.
"Bath, June 30.
"Mr DEAR SIR, The enclosed is a circular letter
which I have sent to all the guardians, but our friend-
ship demands somewhat more ; it requires that I should
beg your pardon for concealing from you a connexion
which you must have heard of by many, but I suppose
never believed. Indeed, my dear Sir, it was concealed
only to save us both needless pain ; I could not have
borne to reject that counsel it would have killed me
to take, and I only tell it you now because all is irre-
vocably settled and out of your power to prevent. I
will say, however, that the dread of your disapprobation
has given me some anxious moments, and though per-
haps I am become by many privations the most inde-
pendent woman in the world, I feel as if acting without
a parent's consent till you write kindly to
" Your faithful servant."
No. 2. Circular.
" SIR, As one of the executors of Mrs. Thrale's will
and guardian to his daughters, I think it my duty
to acquaint you that the three eldest left Bath last
Friday for their own house at Brighthelmstone in com-
pany with an amiable friend, Miss Nicholson, who has
sometimes resided with us here, and in whose society
they may, I think, find some advantages and certainly
no disgrace. I waited on them to Salisbury, Wilton,
&c., and offered to attend them to the seaside myself,
CORRESPONDENCE ON MARRIAGE. Ill
but they preferred this lady's company to mine, having
heard that Mr. Piozzi is coming back from Italy, and
judging perhaps by our past friendship and continued
correspondence that his return would be succeeded by
our marriage.
" I have the honour to be, Sir, your obedient servant.
Bath, June 30, 1784."
No. 3.
"MADAM, If I interpret your letter right, you are
ignominiously married : if it is yet undone, let us once
more talk * together. If you have abandoned your chil-
dren and your religion, God forgive your wickedness ;
if you have forfeited your fame and your country, may
your folly do no further mischief. If the last act is yet
to do, I who have loved you, esteemed you, reverenced
you, and served you *, I who long thought you the first
of womankind, entreat that, before your fate is irrevo-
cable, I may once more see you. I was, I once was,
Madam, most truly yours,
July 2, 1784. " SAM ' JOHNSON.
" I will come down if you permit it."
No. 4.
"July 4, 1784.
" SIR, I have this morning received from you so
rough a letter in reply to one which was both tenderly and
* The four words which I have printed in italics are indistinctly
written, and cannot be satisfactorily made out.
112 LIFE AND WHITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZT.
respectfully written, that I am forced to desire the con-
clusion of a correspondence which I can bear to continue
no longer. The birth of my second husband is not
meaner than that of my first ; his sentiments are not
meaner; his profession is not meaner, and his supe-
riority in what he professes acknowledged by all man-
kind. It is want of fortune, then, that is ignominious ;
the character of the man 1 have chosen has no other
claim to such an epithet. The religion to which he has
been always a zealous adherent will, I hope, teach him
to forgive insults he has not deserved; mine will, I
hope, enable me to bear them at once with dignity
and patience. To hear that I have forfeited my fame is
indeed the greatest insult I ever yet received. My fame
is as unsiillied as snow, or I should think it unworthy
of him who must henceforth protect it.
" I write by the coach the more speedily and effectually
to prevent your coming hither. Perhaps by my fame
(and I hope it is so) you mean only that celebrity which
is a consideration of a much lower kind. I care for
that only as it may give pleasure to my husband and
his friends.
" Farewell, dear Sir, and accept my best wishes. You
have always commanded my esteem, and long enjoyed
the fruits of a friendship never infringed by one harsh
expression on my part during twenty years of familiar
talk. Never did I oppose your will, or control your
wish ; nor can your unmerited severity itself lessen my
regard ; but till you have changed your opinion of Mr.
Piozzi, let us converse no more. God bless you."
CORRESPONDENCE ON MARRIAGE. 113
No. 5.
To Mrs. Piozzi.
"London, JulyS, 1784.
"DEAR MADAM, What you have done, however I
may lament it, I have no pretence to resent, as it has
not been injurious to me : I therefore breathe out one
sigh more of tenderness, perhaps useless, but at least
sincere.
" I wish that (rod may grant you every blessing, that
you may be happy in this world for its short con-
tinuance, and eternally happy in a better state; and
whatever I can contribute to your happiness I am very
ready to repay, for that kindness which soothed twenty
years of a life radically wretched.
" Do not think slightly of the advice which I now
presume to offer. Prevail upon Mr. Piozzi to settle in
England : you may live here with more dignity than in
Italy, and with more security ; your rank will be higher,
and your fortune more under your own eye. I desire
not to detail all my reasons, but every argument of pru-
dence and interest is for England, and only some phan-
toms of imagination seduce you to Italy.
" I am afraid, however, that my counsel is vain, yet
I have eased my heart by giving it.
" When Queen Mary took the resolution of sheltering
herself in England, the Archbishop of St. Andrew's,
attempting to dissuade her, attended on her journey ;
and when they came to the irremeable stream * that
* Queen Mary left the Scottish for the English coast, on the
VOL. I. I
114 LIFE AND WRITINGS OP MRS. PIOZZI.
separated the two kingdoms, walked by her side into
the water, in the middle of which he seized her bridle,
and with earnestness proportioned to her danger and his
own affection pressed her to return. The Queen went
forward. If the parallel reaches thus far, may it go
no farther. The tears stand in my eyes.
" I am going into Derbyshire, and hope to be followed
by your good wishes, for I am, with great affection,
" Your, &c.
" Any letters that come for me hither will be sent
me."
In a memorandum on this letter, she says : " I wrote
him a very kind and affectionate farewell." Miss
Hawkins says : " It was I who discovered the letter
(No. 4). I carried it to my father : he enclosed it and
sent it to her, there never having been any intercourse
between them."* Hawkins states that a letter from
Johnson to himself contained these words :
" Poor Thrale ! I thought that either her virtue or
Firth of Solway, in a fishing-boat. The incident to which Johnson
alludes is introduced in " The Abbot ; " where the scene is laid on
the sea-shore. The unusual though expressive term " irremeable,"
is denned in his dictionary, "admitting no return." His autho-
rity is Dryden's Virgil :
(t The keeper dream'd, the chief without delay
Pass'd on, and took th' irremeable way."
The word is a Latin one anglicised :
"Evaditque celer ripam irremeabilis undae."
* Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 66, note.
SECOND MARRIAGE. 115
her vice (meaning her love of her children or her pride)
would have restrained her from such a marriage. She
-is now become a subject for her enemies to exult over,
and for her friends, if she has any left, to forget or
pity."
Harsh language, and exhibiting little of that allow-
ance for human frailty which might have been expected
from the author of " Rasselas " and the " Rambler."
Did he or the rest of her acquaintance who joined in
censuring or repudiating her, ever attempt to enter into
her feelings, and weigh her conduct with reference to
its tendency to promote her own happiness? Could
they have done so, had they tried? Can any one
eo identify himself or herself with another as to be
sure of the soundness of the counsel, or the justice of
the reproof? She was neither impovershing her chil-
dren (who had all independent fortunes) nor abandon-
ing them. She was setting public opinion at defiance,
which is commonly a foolish thing to do-; but what is
public opinion to a woman whose heart is breaking, and
who finds, after a desperate effort, that she is unequal
to the sacrifice demanded of her ? She accepted Piozzi
deliberately, with full knowledge of his character ; and
she never repented of her choice.
The Lady Cathcart, whose romantic story is men-
tioned in " Castle Rackrent," was wont to say : " I
have been married three times ; the first for money,
the second for rank, the third for love ; and the third
was worst of all." Mrs. Piozzi's experience would have
led to an opposite conclusion. Her love match was an
i 2
116 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
eminently happy one ; and the consciousness that she
had transgressed conventional observances or prejudices,
not moral rules, enabled her to outlive and bear down
calumny. *
Madame D'Arblay says that her father was not dis-
inclined to admit Mrs. Piozzi's right to consult her own
notions of happiness in the choice of a second husband,
had not the paramount duty of watching over her un-
married daughters interfered. On this topic, Mrs. Piozzi
says, "that her eldest daughter (then near twenty f)
having refused to join the wedding party on their tour,
she left a lady whom they appeared to like exceedingly,
with them." This lady disappointed expectation, and left
them, or, according to another version, was summarily
* The pros and cons of the main question at issue are well stated
in Corinne : " ' Ah, pour heureux,' interrompit le Comte d'Erfeuil,
' je n'en crois rien : on n'est heureux que par ce qui est convenable.
La societe a, quoi qu'on fasse, beaucoup d'empire sur le bonheur ;
et ce qu'elle n'approuve pas, il ne faut jamais le faire.' ' On vivrait
done toujours pour ce que la socie'te' dira de nous/ reprit Oswald ;
' et ce qu'on pense et ce qu'on sent ne servirait jamais de guide.'
'C'est tres bien dit,' reprit le comte, ' tre"s-philosophiquement
pense" ; mais avec ces maximes la, 1'on se perd ; et quand 1'amour
est passe, le blame de Fopinion reste. Moi qui vous parais 16ger,
je ne ferai jamais rien qui puisse m'attirer la disapprobation du
monde. On peut se perniettre de petites libertes, d'aimables
plaisanteries, qui annoncent de I'ind4pendance dans la maniere
d'agir ; car, quand cela touche au se"rieux.' ' Mais le se"rieux,'
repondit Lord Nelvil, 'c'est l'amour et le bonheur.'" Corinne,
liv. ix. ch. 1.
f In a note on the visit to Chatsworth with Johnson in July,
1774, Mrs. Piozzi says, " I remember Lady Keith, then ten years
old, was the most amused of any of the party." She was born in
September, 1764.
LADY KEITH. 117
dismissed by Miss Thrale (afterwards Lady Keith), who
fortunately was endowed with the precise description of
qualities required by the emergency : clearness of
judgment, high principle, firmness, and energy. She
could not take up her abode with either of her guar-
dians, one a bachelor under forty, the other the proto-
type of Briggs, the old miser in " Csecilia." She could
not accept Johnson's hospitality in Bolt Court, still
tenanted by the survivors of his menagerie ; where, a
few months later, she sate by his death-bed and received
his blessing. She therefore called to her aid an old
nurse-maid, named Tib, who had been much trusted by
her father, and with this homely but respectable duenna,
she shut herself up in the house at Brighton, limited
her expenses to her allowance of 2001. a-year, and re-
solutely set about the course of study which seemed best
adapted to absorb attention and prevent her thoughts
from wandering. Hebrew, Mathematics, Fortification,
and Perspective have been named to me by one of her
trusted friends as specimens of her acquirements and
pursuits.
" There's a Divinity that shapes our ends,
Rough-hew them how we may."
In that solitary abode at Brighton, and in the com-
panionship of Tib, may have been laid the foundation
of a character than which few, through the changeful
scenes of a long and prosperous life, have exercised
more beneficial influence or inspired more genuine es-
teem. On coming of age, and being put into posses-
sion of her fortune, she hired a house in London,
I 3
118 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
and took her two eldest sisters to live with her. They
had been at school whilst she was living at Brighton.
The fourth and youngest, afterwards Mrs. Mostyn,
had accompanied the mother. On the return of
Mr. and Mrs. Piozzi, Miss Thrale made a point of
paying them every becoming attention, and Piozzi
was constantly dining with her. Latterly, she used
to speak of him as a very worthy sort of man,
who was not to blame for marrying a rich and distin-
guished woman who took a fancy to him. The other
sisters seem to have adopted the same tone ; and so far
as I can learn, no one of them is open to the imputa-
tion of filial unkindness, or has suffered from maternal
neglect in a manner to bear out Dr. Burney's fore-
bodings by the result. Occasional expressions of
querulousness are matters of course in family differ-
ences, and are seldom totally suppressed by the utmost
exertion of good feeling and good sense.
On the 19th October, 1784, she writes to Mr. Lysons
from Turin :
" We are going to Alexandria, Genoa, and Pavia, and
then to Milan for the winter, as Mr. Piozzi finds friends
everywhere to delay us, and I hate hurry and fatigue ;
it takes away all one's attention. Lyons was a delightful
place to me, and we were so feasted there by my husband's
old acquaintances. The Duke and Duchess of Cum-
berland too paid us a thousand caressing civilities where
we met with them, and we had no means of musical
parties neither. The Prince of Sisterna came yesterday
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 119
to visit Mr. Piozzi, and present me with the key of his
box at the opera for the time we stay at Turin. Here's
honour and glory for you ! When Miss Thrale hears of
it, she will write perhaps ; the other two are very kind
and affectionate."
" Milan, Dec. 7.
" I correspond constantly and copiously with such of
my daughters as are willing to answer my letters, and I
have at last received one cold scrap from the eldest,
which I instantly and tenderly replied to. Mrs. Lewis
too, and Miss Nicholson, have had accounts of my
health, for I found them disinterested and attached to
me : those who led the stream, or watched which
way it ran, that they might follow it, were not, I
suppose, desirous of my correspondence, and till they
are so, shall not be troubled with it."
Miss Nicholson was the lady left with the daughters,
and Mrs. Piozzi could have heard no harm of her from
them or others when she wrote thus. The same in-
ference must be drawn from the allusions to this lady at
subsequent periods. " Once more," she continues, " keep
me out of the newspapers if you possibly can : they
have given me many a miserable hour, and my enemies
many a merry one : but I have not deserved public
persecution, and am very happy to live in a place where
one is free from unmerited insolence, such as London
abounds with.
"'Ulic credulitas, illic temerariua error.'
X 4
120 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
God bless you, and may you conquer the many-headed
monster which I could never charm to silence."
The license of our press is a frequent topic of com-
plaint. But here is a woman who had never placed
herself before the public in any way so as to give them
a right to discuss her conduct or affairs, not even as an
author, made the butt of every description of offensive
personality for months, with the tacit encouragement of
the first moralist of the age.
On July 27th, 1785, she writes from Florence:
"We celebrated our wedding anniversary two days
ago with a magnificent dinner and concert, at which the
Prince Corsini and his brother the Cardinal did us the
honour of assisting, and wished us joy in the tenderest
and politest terms. Lord and Lady Cowper, Lord
Pembroke, and all the English indeed, doat on my hus-
band, and show us every possible attention."
"I was tempted to observe," says the author of
" Piozziana," "that I thought,as I still do, that Johnson's
anger on the event of her second marriage was excited
by some feeling of disappointment ; and that I suspected
he had formed some hope of attaching her to himself.
It would be disingenuous on my part to attempt to
repeat her answer. I forget it ; but the impression on
my mind is that she did not contradict me." Sir James
Fellowes' marginal note on this passage is : " This was
an absurd notion, and I can undertake to say it was the
last idea that ever entered her head ; for when I once
alluded to the subject, she ridiculed the idea : she told
WAS JOHNSON A SUITOR? 121
me she always felt for Johnson the same respect and
veneration as for a Pascal."
On the margin of the passage in which Boswell says,
"Johnson's wishing to unite himself with this rich
widow, was much talked of, but I believe without
foundation," she has written, " I believe so too ! ! "
The report, however, was enough to bring into play the
light artillery of the wits, one of whose best hits was
an "Ode to Mrs. Thrale, by Samuel Johnson, LL.D.,
on their approaching Nuptials," beginning :
" If e'er my fingers touched the lyre,
In satire fierce, in pleasure gay,
Shall not my Thralia's smiles inspire,
Shall Sam refuse the sportive lay ?
" My dearest lady, view your slave,
Behold him as your very Scrub :
Ready to write as author grave,
Or govern well the brewing tub.
To rich felicity thus raised,
My bosom glows with amorous fire ;
Porter no longer shall be praised,
'Tis I Myself am Thrale's Entire."
She has written opposite these lines, " Whose fan
was this ? It is better than the other." The other was :
" Cervisial coctor's viduate dame,
Opinst thou this gigantick frame,
Procumbing at thy shrine,
Shall catinated by thy charms,
A captive in thy ambient arms
Perennially be thine."
122 LIFE AND WIU-CINGS OF MBS. PIOZZI.
She writes opposite : " Whose silly fun was this ?
Soame Jenyn's ? "
If the notion ever crossed Johnson's mind, it must
have been dismissed some time prior to her marriage,
which took place four months before his death in his
seventy-sixth year. But the threatened loss of a
pleasant house may have had a good deal to do with
the sorrowing indignation of his set. Her meditated
social extinction amongst them might have been com-
memorated in the words of the French epitaph :
<e Ci git une de qui la vertu
Etait moins que la table encense"e ;
On ne plaint point la femme almttue
Mais bien la table renverse"e."
Which may be freely rendered :
"Here lies one who adulation
By dinners more than virtues eam'd ;
Whose friends mourned not her reputation
But her table overturned."
The following paragraph is copied from the note-
book of the late Miss Williams Wynn*, who had recently
been reading a large collection of Mrs. Piozzi's letters
to a Welsh neighbour :
* Daughter of Sir Watkyn Wynn (the fourth baronet) and
granddaughter of George Grenville, the Minister. She was dis-
tinguished by her literary taste and acquirements, as well as highly
esteemed for the uprightness of her character, the excellence of
her understanding, and the kindness of her heart. Her journals
and note-books, carefully kept during a long life passed in the best
society, are full of interesting anecdotes and curious extracts
from rare books and manuscripts. They are now in the possession
of her niece, the Honourable Mrs. Rowley.
HER OPINION OF PIOZZI. 123
" London, March, 1825. I have had an opportunity
of talking to old Sir William Pepys on the subject of
his old friend, Mrs. Piozzi, and from his conversation
am more than ever impressed with the idea that she
was one of the most inconsistent characters that
ever existed. Sir William says he never met with
any human being who possessed the talent of conversa-
tion in such a degree. I naturally felt anxious to know
whether Piozzi could in any degree add to this pleasure,
and found, as I expected, that he could not even
understand her.
" Her infatuation for him seems perfectly unaccount-
able. Johnson in his rough (I may here call it brutal)
manner said to her, * Why, Ma'am, he is not only a
stupid, ugly dog, but he is an old dog too.' Sir
William says he really believes that she combated her
inclination for him as long as possible ; so long, that
her senses would have failed her if she had attempted
to resist any longer. She was perfectly aware of her
degradation. One day, speaking to Sir William of some
persons whom he had been in the habit of meeting
continually at Streatham during the lifetime of Mr.
Thrale, she said, not one of them has taken the smallest
notice of me ever since : they dropped me before I had
done anything wrong. Piozzi was literally at her elbow
when she said this."
The hearsay of hearsay cannot be set against the
uniform and concurrent testimony of her written pro-
fessions and her conduct ; which show that she never
regarded her second marriage as a degradation, and
124 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
always took a high and independent, instead of a sub-
dued or deprecating, tone with her alienated friends.
In a letter to a Welsh neighbour, near the end of
her life, some time in 1818, she says:
"Mrs. Mostyn (her youngest daughter) has written
again on the road back to Italy, where she likes the
Piozzis above all people, she says, if they were not so
proud of their family. Would not that make one
laugh two hours before one's own death? But I
remember when Lady Egremont raised the whole
nation's ill will here, while the Saxons were wondering
how Count Brahle could think of marrying a lady
born Miss Carpenter. The Lombards doubted in the
meantime of my being a gentlewoman by birth,
because my first husband was a brewer. A pretty world,
is it not ? A Ship of Fooles, according to the old poem;
and they will upset the vessel by and by."
This is not the language of one who wished to apologise
for a misalliance.
As to Piozzi's want of youth and good looks, Johnson's
knowledge of womankind, to say nothing of his self-
love, should have prevented him from urging this as an
objection, or as an aggravation of her offence. He
might have recollected the Koman matron in Juvenal,
who considers the world well lost for an old and dis-
figured prize-fighter ; or he would have quoted Spenser's
description of Lust :
" Who rough and rude and filthy did appear,
Unseemly man to please fair lady's eye,
Yet he of ladies oft was loved dear,
When fairer faces were bid standen by :
Oh ! who can tell the bent of woman's phantasy ? "
PIOZZI. 125
Madame Campan, speaking of Caroline of Naples, the
sister of Marie Antoinette, says, she had great reason to
complain of the insolence of a Spaniard named Las
Casas, whom the king, her father-in-law, had sent to
persuade her to remove M. Acton from the conduct
of affairs and from about her person. She had told
him, to convince him of the nature of her sentiments,
that she would have Acton painted and sculptured
by the most celebrated artists of Italy, and send his bust
and his portrait to the King of Spain, to prove to him
that the desire of fixing a man of superior capacity
could alone have induced her to confer the favour
he enjoyed. Las Casas had dared to reply, that she
would be taking useless trouble ; that a man's ugliness
did not always prevent him from pleasing, and that the
King of Spain had too much experience to be ignorant
that the caprices of a woman were inexplicable. John-
son may surely be allowed credit for as much knowledge
of the sex as the King of Spain.
There is no need, however, for citing precedents or
authorities on the point ; for Piozzi was about forty-one
or forty-two, a year or two younger than herself, and
was not reputed ugly. Miss Seward (October, 1787)
writes :
" I am become acquainted with Mr. and Mrs. Piozzi.
Her conversation is that bright wine of the intellects
which has no lees. Dr. Johnson told me truth when
he said she had more colloquial wit than most of our
literary women; it is indeed a fountain of perpetual
flow. But he did not tell me truth when he asserted
126 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
that Piozzi was an ugly dog, without particular skill in
his profession. Mr. Piozzi is a handsome man, in
middle life, with gentle, pleasing, unaffected manners,
and with very eminent skill in his profession. Though
he has not a powerful or fine-toned voice, he sings with
transcending grace and expression. I am charmed with
his perfect expression on his instrument. Surely the
finest sensibilities must vibrate through his frame, since
they breathe so sweetly through his song."
The concluding sentence contains what Partridge
would call a non sequitur, for the finest musical sensi-
bility may coexist with the most commonplace qualities.
But the lady's evidence is clear and unequivocal on
the essential point; and another passage from her
letters may assist us in determining the precise nature of
Johnson's feelings towards Mrs. Piozzi, and the extent
to which his later language and conduct regarding her
were influenced by pique :
"Love is the great softener of savage dispositions.
Johnson had always a metaphysic passion for one
princess or another : first, the rustic Lucy Porter, before
he married her nauseous mother ; next the handsome,
but haughty, Molly Aston ; next the sublimated, metho-
distic Hill Boothby, who read her bible in Hebrew ;
and lastly, the more charming Mrs. Thrale, with the
beauty of the first, the learning of the second, and with
more worth than a bushel of such sinners and such
saints. It is ridiculously diverting to see the old ele-
phant forsaking his nature before these princesses:
LORD MACAULAY. 127
" l To make them mirth, use all hia might, and writhe,
His mighty form disporting.'
" This last and long-enduring passion for Mrs. Thrale
was, however, composed perhaps of cupboard love, Pla-
tonic love, and vanity tickled and gratified, from morn
to night, by incessant homage. The two first ingredients
are certainly oddly heterogeneous ; but Johnson, in re-
ligion and politics, in love and in hatred, was composed
of such opposite and contradictory materials, as never
before met in the human mind. This is the reason
why folk are never weary of talking, reading, and
writing about a man
" ' So various that he seem'd to be,
Not one, hut all mankind's epitome.' " *
In the . teeth of Miss Seward's description of Piozzi,
it would be difficult to maintain Lord Macaulay's state-
ment that Mrs. Piozzi " fell in love with a music master
from Brescia, in whom nobody but herself could see
anything to admire : " and the effect of the eloquent pas-
sage which succeeds 'would have been materially im-
paired by adherence to the facts
" She did not conceal her joy when he (Johnson) left
Streatham. She never pressed him to return ; and if
he came unbidden, she received him in a manner which
convinced him that he was no longer a welcome guest.
He took the very intelligible hints which she gave. He
read, for the last time, a chapter of the Greek Testa-
ment in the library which had been formed by himself.
* Letters, vol. ii. p. 103.
128 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
In a solemn and tender -prayer he commended the
house and its inmates to the Divine protection, and
with emotions which choked his voice and convulsed
his powerful frame, left for ever that beloved home for
the gloomy and desolate house behind Fleet Street,
where the few and the evil days which still remained to
him were to run out."
Streatham had been let to Lord Shelburne, and they
quitted it- together. She never pressed him to return,
because she never returned during his lifetime ; for the
same reason, he could not have come again as her guest,
bidden or unbidden : and instead of leaving Streatham
for his gloomy and desolate house behind Fleet Street, he
accompanied her, on the wonted footing of an inmate,
first to Brighton, where we have seen him making him-'
self particularly disagreeable to her friends, and then to
Argyll Street.
The brilliant historian proceeds :
"Here (Bolt Court) in June, 1783, he had a para-
lytic stroke, from which however he recovered, and
which does not appear to have impaired his intellectual
faculties. But other maladies came thick upon him.
His asthma tormented him day and night. Dropsical
symptoms made their appearance. While sinking under
a complication of diseases, he heard that the woman
whose friendship had been the chief happiness of sixteen
years of his life had married an Italian fiddler ; that all
London was crying shame upon her ; and that the news-
papers and magazines were filled with allusions to the
Ephesian matron and the two pictures in 'Hamlet.'
LORD MACAULAY. 129
He vehemently said he would try to forget her existence.
He never uttered her name. Every memorial of her
which met his eye he flung into the fire. She mean-
while fled from the laughter and hisses of her country-
men and countrywomen to a land where she was
unknown, hastened across Mount Cenis, and learned,
while passing a merry Christmas of concerts and lemonade
parties at Milan, that the great man with whose name
hers is inseparably associated, had ceased to exist."
In his last letter on her marriage, Johnson admits
that he has no pretence to resent it, as it has not
been injurious to him, and says: "Whatever I can
contribute to your happiness I am ever ready to repay,
for that kindness which soothed twenty years of a life
radically wretched." If, directly after writing this, he
vowed to forget her existence, and flung every memorial
of her into the fire, he stands self-convicted of ingra-
titude and deceit. The only proof that he did any-
thing of the sort is a passage in Madame D'Arblay's
diary : " We talked of poor Mrs. Thrale, but only for a
moment ; for I saw him so greatly moved, and with such
severity of displeasure, that I- hastened to start another
subject, and he solemnly enjoined me to mention that no
more." This was towards the end of November, a few
weeks before he died, and he might be excused -for
being angry at the introduction of any agitating topic.
His affection for Mrs. Piozzi was far from being
a deep, devoted, or absorbing feeling at any time ;
and the gloom which settled upon the evening of his
days was owing to his infirmities and his dread of
VOL. I. K
130 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
death, not to the loosening of cherished ties, nor to the
compelled solitude of a confined dwelling in Bolt Court.
The plain matter of fact is that, during the last two
years of his life, he was seldom a month together at his
own house, unless when the state of his health prevented
him from enjoying the hospitality of his friends.
When the fatal marriage was announced, he was plan-
ning what Boswell calls a jaunt into the country ; and
in a letter dated Lichfield, Oct. 4, 1784, he says: "I
passed the first part of the summer at Oxford (with
Dr. Adams) ; afterwards I went to Lichfield, then to
Ashbourne (Dr. Taylor's), and a week ago I returned to
Lichfield."
In the journal which he kept for Dr. Brocklesby, he
writes, Oct. 20 : " The town is my element ; there are
my friends, there are my books to which I have not yet
bid farewell, and there are my amusements. Sir Joshua
told me long ago that my vocation was to public life ;
and I hope still to keep my station, till God shall bid
me Go in peace."
Thrale died on the 4th of April. " On Friday, April 6,
(writes Boswell), he (Johnson) carried me to dine at a
club which at his desire had been lately formed at the
Queen's Arms." In April, 1784, a year and a half after
his heart was broken by the alleged expulsion from
Streatham, Johnson sends a regular diary of his feelings,
and proceedings to Mrs. Thrale. One item may suffice :
" I received this morning your magnificent fish (ante,
p. 53), and in the afternoon your apology for not
sending it. I have invited the Hooles and Miss Burney
to dine upon it to-morrow."
LORD MACAULAY. 131
After another visit to Dr. Adams at Pembroke Col-
lege, he returned about the middle of November to
London, where he died December 13th, 1784. The
proximate cause of his death was dropsy ; and there is
not the smallest sign of its having been accelerated or
embittered by unkindness or neglect.
If he chose to repudiate and denounce one " whose
kindness had soothed twenty years of a life radically
wretched," because she refused to submit to his dicta-
tion in a matter of life and death to her and of com-
parative indifference to him, the severance of the tie
was entirely his own act. In a letter to Mr. S. Lysons
from Milan, dated December 7th, 1784, which proves
that she was not wasting her time in " concerts and
lemonade parties," she says : " My next letter shall
talk of the libraries and botanical gardens, and twenty
other clever things here. I wish you a comfortable
Christmas, and a happy beginning of the year 1785.
Do not neglect Dr. Johnson : you will never see any
other mortal so wise or so good. I keep his picture in
my chamber, and his works on my chimney."
" Forgiveness to the injured doth belong,
But they ne'er pardon who have done the wrong."
The reader will not fail to admire the rhetorical skill
with which the banishment from Streatham, the gloomy
and desolate home, the marriage with the Italian
fiddler, the painful and melancholy death, and the
merry Christmas, have been grouped together with the
view of giving picturesqueness, impressive unity, and
K 2
132 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MES. PIOZZI.
damnatory vigour to the sketch. " Action, action,
action," says the orator ; " effect, effect, effect," says the
historian. Give Archimedes a place to stand on, and
he would move the world. Give Talleyrand a line of a
man's handwriting, and he would engage to ruin him.
Give Lord Macaulay a hint, a fancy, an insulated fact
or phrase, a scrap of a journal, or the tag end of a song,
and on it, by the abused prerogative of genius, he would
construct a theory of national or personal character,
which should confer undying glory or inflict indelible
disgrace.
Mrs. Piozzi's life in Italy is sketched in her best
manner by her own lively pen. Her confidence in
Piozzi was amply justified by the result. She was in
debt when she married him. Before their return to
England, all her pecuniary embarrassments were re-
moved by his judicious economy ; although, her income
being entirely in his power, nothing would have been
easier for him than to make a purse for his family or
himself, or to dazzle his countrymen by his splendour.
On February 3rd, 1785, Walpole writes from London
to Sir Horace Mann at Florence :
" I have very lately been lent a volume of poems
composed and printed at Florence, in which another of
our ex-heroines, Mrs. Piozzi, has a considerable share ;
her associates three of the English bards who assisted
in the little garland which Ramsay the painter sent me.
The present is a plump octavo ; and if you have not
sent me a copy by your nephew I should be glad if you
could get one for me : not for the merit of the verses,
FLORENCE MISCELLANY AND ANECDOTES. 133
which are moderate enough and faint imitations of
our good poets; but for a short and sensible and
genteel preface by La Piozzi, from whom I have just
seen a very clever letter to Mrs. Montagu, to disavow
a jackanapes who has lately made a noise here, one
Boswell, * by Anecdotes of Dr. Johnson.' In a day or
two we expect another collection by the same Signora."
Her associates were G-reathead, Merry, and Parsons.
The volume in question was " The Florence Miscellany."
" A copy," says Mr. Lowndes, " having fallen into the
hands of W. Gifford, gave rise to his admirable satire
of the ( Baviad and Moeviad.' " *
In his Journal of the Tour to the Hebrides, Boswell
makes Johnson say of Mrs. Montagu's " Essay on
Shakespeare:" " Reynolds is fond of her book, and
I wonder at it ; for neither I, nor Beauclerc, nor Mrs.
Thrale could get through it." This is what Mrs. Piozzi
wrote to disavow, so far as she was personally concerned.
The other collection expected from her whilst still in
Italy was her " Anecdotes of the late Samuel Johnson,
during the last Twenty Years of his Life. Printed for
T. Cadell in the Strand, 1786."
In her Travels she says : " I have here (Leghorn)
finished that work which chiefly brought me here, the
* Anecdotes of Dr. Johnson's Life.' It is from this port
they take their flight for England whilst we retire for
refreshment to the Bagni de Pisa."
The book attracted much attention in the literary
* The " Bibliographer's Manual," p. 534. The Preface (praised
by Walpole) is reprinted amongst her literary remains.
K 3
134 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
and fashionable circles of London ; and whilst some
affected to discover in it the latent signs of wounded
vanity and pique, others vehemently impugned its
accuracy. Foremost amongst her assailants stood
Boswell, who had an obvious motive for depreciating
her, and he attempts to destroy her authority, first, by
quoting Johnson's supposed imputations on her vera-
city ; and secondly, by individual instances of her
alleged departure from truth.
Thus, Johnson is reported to have said : " It is amaz-
ing, Sir, what deviations there are from precise truth,
in the account which is given of almost everything. I
told Mrs. Thrale, You have so little anxiety about truth
that you never tax your memory with the exact thing."
Her proneness to exaggerated praise especially ex-
cited his indignation, and he endeavours to make her
responsible for his rudeness on the strength of it.
" Mrs. Thrale gave high praise to Mr. Dudley Long
(now North). Johnson. ' Nay, my dear lady, don't talk
so. Mr. Long's character is very short ? It is nothing.
He fills a chair. He is a man of genteel appearance,
and that is all. I know nobody who blasts by praise as
you do : for whenever there is exaggerated praise, every
body is set against a character. They are provoked to
attack it. Now there is Pepys ; you praised that man
with such disproportion, that I was incited to lessen
him, perhaps more than he deserves. His blood is upon
your head. By the same principle, your malice defeats
itself ; for your censure is too violent. And yet (look-
ing to her with a leering smile) she is the first woman
in the world, could she but restrain that wicked tongue
HER ALLEGED INACCURACY. 135
of hers ; she would be the only woman, could she
but command that little whirligig.' "
Opposite the words I have printed in italics she has
written : " An expression he would not have used ; no,
not for worlds."
In Boswell's note of a visit to Streatham in 1778, we
find:-
" Next morning, while we were at breakfast, Johnson
gave a very earnest recommendation of what he himself
practised with the utmost conscientiousness : I mean a
strict attention to truth even in the most minute parti-
culars. ' Accustom your children,' said he, ' constantly
to this : if a thing happened at one window, and they,
when relating it, say that it happened at another, do
not let it pass, but instantly check them : you do not
know where deviation from truth will end.' Bosivell.
* It may come to the door : and when once an account
is at all varied in one circumstance, it may by degrees
be varied so as to be totally different from what really
happened.' Our lively hostess, whose fancy was im-
patient of the rein, fidgeted at this, and ventured to
say 'Nay, this is too much. If Dr. Johnson should
forbid me to drink tea, I would comply, as I should
feel the restraint only twice a day : but little variations
in narrative must happen a thousand times a day, if
one is not perpetually watching.' Johnson. 'Well,
Madam, and you ought to be perpetually watching. It
is more from carelessness about truth, than from in-
tentional lying, that there is so much falsehood in the
world.'"
K 4
136 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
Now for the illustrative incident, which occurred
during the same visit :
" I had before dinner repeated a ridiculous story told
me by an old man, who had been a passenger with me
in the stage-coach to-day. Mrs. Thrale, having taken
occasion to allude to it in talking to me, called it, * The
story told you by the old woman.'' ( Now, Madam,'
said I, ( give me leave to catch you in the fact : it was
not an old woman, but an old man, whom I mentioned
as having told me this.' I presumed to take an oppor-
tunity, in the presence of Johnson, of showing this
lively lady how 'ready she was, unintentionally, to deviate
from exact authenticity of narration."
In the margin: "Mrs. Thrale knew- there was no
such thing as an Old Man: when a man gets super-
annuated, they call him an old Woman."
The remarks on the value of truth attributed to
Johnson are just and sound in the main, but when
they are pointed against character, they must be
weighed in reference to the very high standard he
habitually insisted upon. He would not allow his ser-
vant to say he was not at home when he was. " A
servant's strict regard for truth," he continued, " must
be weakened by such a practice. A philosopher may
know that it is merely a form of denial ; but few ser-
vants are such nice distinguishes. If I accustom a
servant to tell a lie for me, have I not reason to ap-
prehend that he will tell many lies for himself ? "
One of his townspeople, Mr. Wickens, of Lichfield,
was walking with him in a small meandering shrubbery
formed so as to hide the termination, and observed that
REGARD FOR TRUTH. 137
it might be taken for an extensive labyrinth, but that
it would prove a deception, though it was, indeed, not
an unpardonable one. " Sir," exclaimed Johnson,
" don't tell me of deception ; a lie, Sir, is a lie, whether
it be a lie to the eye or a lie to the ear." Whilst he
was in one of these paradoxical humours, there was no
pleasing him ; and he has been known to insult persons
of respectability for repeating current accounts of events,
sounding new and strange, which turned out to be li-
terally true ; such as the red-hot shot at Gibraltar, or
the effects of the earthquake at Lisbon. Yet he could
be lax when it suited him, as speaking of epitaphs :
" The writer of an epitaph should not be considered as
saying nothing but what is strictly true. Allowance
must be made for some degree of exaggerated praise.
In lapidary inscriptions a man is not upon oath." Is
he upon oath in narrating an anecdote ? or could he
do more than swear to the best of his recollection and
belief, if he was. BoswelPs notes of conversations are
wonderful results of a peculiar faculty, or combination
of faculties, but the utmost they can be suffered to con-
vey is the substance of what took place, in an exceed-
ingly condensed shape, lighted up at intervals by the
ipsissima verba of the speaker.
" Whilst he went on talking triumphantly," says
Boswell, " I was fixed in admiration, and said to Mrs.
Thrale, < for short-hand to take this down ! ' ' You'll
carry it all in your head,' said she ; ' a long head is as
good as short-hand.' " * On his boasting of the effi-
* This happened March 21st, 1783, in Argyll Street, the year
after Johnson had bidden farewell to Streatham.
138 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
ciency of his own system of short-hand to Johnson, he
was put to the test and failed.
Mrs. Piozzi at once admits and accounts for the in-
feriority of her own collection of anecdotes, when she
denounces "a trick which I have seen played on
common occasions, of sitting steadily down at the other
end of the room, to write at the moment what should
be said in company, either by Dr. Johnson or to him,
I never practised myself, nor approved of in another.
There is something so ill-bred, and so inclining to
treachery in this conduct, that were it commonly
adopted, all confidence would soon be exiled from
society, and a conversation assembly room would
become tremendous as a court of justice." This is a
hit at Boswell, who (as regards Johnson himself ) had
full licence to take notes the best way he could.
Madame D'Arblay's are much fuller, and bear a sus-
picious resemblance to the dialogues in her novels.
Mrs. Piozzi prefaces some instances of Johnson's
rudeness and harshness by the remark, that " he did
not hate the persons he treated with roughness, or
despise them whom he drove from him by apparent
scorn. He really loved and respected many whom he
would not suffer to love him." Boswell echoes the re-
mark, multiplies the instances, and then accuses Mrs.
Piozzi of misrepresenting their friend. After men-
tioning a discourteous reply to Eobertson the historian,
which was subsequently confirmed by Boswell, she pro-
ceeds to show that Johnson was no gentler to herself
or those for whom he had the greatest regard. "When
ALLEGED INACCURACY. 139
I one day lamented the loss of a first cousin, killed in
America, ' Prithee, my dear (said he), have done with
canting : how would the world be worse for it, I may
ask, if all your relations were at once spitted like
larks and roasted for Presto's supper ? ' Presto was the
dog that lay under the table." To this Boswell opposes
the version given by Baretti, in the course of an angry
invective, which Mr. Croker justly designates as
brutal :
" Mrs. Thrale, while supping very heartily upon larks,
laid down her knife and fork, and abruptly exclaimed,
'0, my dear Johnson! do you know what has hap-
pened ? The last letters from abroad have brought us
an account that our poor cousin's head was taken off by
a cannon-ball.' Johnson, who was shocked both at the
fact and her light unfeeling manner of mentioning it,
replied, ' Madam, it would give you very little concern
if all your relations were spitted like those larks, and
dressed for Presto's supper.' "
This version, assuming its truth, aggravates the per-
sonal rudeness of the speech. But her marginal notes
on the passage are : " Boswell appealing to Baretti for a
testimony of the truth is comical enough ! I never ad-
dressed him (Johnson) so familiarly in my life. I never
did eat any supper, and there were no larks to eat."
"Upon mentioning this story to my friend Mr.Wilkes,"
adds Boswell, " he pleasantly matched it with the follow-
ing sentimental anecdote. He was invited by a young
man of fashion at Paris to sup with him and a lady who
had been for some time his mistress, but with whom he
140 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
was going to part. He said to Mr. Wilkes that he
really felt very much for her, she was in such distress,
and that he meant to make her a present of 200 louis
d'ors. Mr. Wilkes observed the behaviour of Mademoi-
selle, who sighed indeed very piteously, and assumed every
pathetic air of grief, but ate no less than three French
pigeons, which are as large as English partridges, besides
other things. Mr. Wilkes whispered the gentleman,
* We often say in England, " Excessive sorrow is ex-*
ceeding dry," but I never heard " Excessive sorrow is ex-
ceeding hungry." Perhaps one hundred will do.' The
gentleman took the hint." Mrs. Piozzi's marginal
ebullition is : f ' Very like my hearty supper of larks,
who never eat supper at all, nor was ever a hot dish
seen on the table after dinner at Streatham Park."
Two instances of inaccuracy, announced as par-
ticularly worthy of notice, are supplied by " an
eminent critic," understood to be Malone, who begins
by stating, " I have often been in his (Johnson's)
company, and never once heard him say a severe
thing to any one ; and many others can attest the
same." Malone had lived very little with Johnson,
and to appreciate his evidence, we should know what he
and Boswell would agree to call a severe thing. Once,
on Johnson's observing that they had " good talk " on
the " preceding evening," " Yes, Sir," replied Boswell,
"you tossed and gored several persons." Do tossing
and goring come within the definition of severity ? In
another place he says, " I have seen even Mrs. Thrale
stunned ; " and Miss Reynolds relates that " One day
ALLEGED INACCURACY. 141
at her own table he spoke so very roughly to her, that
every one present was surprised that she could bear it
so placidly ; and on the ladies withdrawing, I expressed
great astonishment that Dr. Johnson should speak so
harshly to her, but to this she said no more than * Oh,
deal*, good man.' "
One of the two instances of Mrs. Piozzi's inaccuracy
is as follows : " He once bade a very celebrated
lady (Hannah More) who praised him with too much
zeal perhaps, or perhaps too strong an emphasis (which
always offended him) consider what her flattery was
worth before she choaked him with it."
Now, exclaims Mr. Malone, let the genuine anecdote
be contrasted with this :
"The person thus represented as being harshly treated,
though a very celebrated lady, was then just come to
London from an obscure situation in the country. At
Sir Joshua Eeynolds's one evening, she met Dr. John-
son. She very soon began to pay her court to him in
the most fulsome strain. * Spare me, I beseech you,
dear Madam,' was his reply. She still laid it on.
{ Pray, Madam, let us have no more of this,' he rejoined.
Not paying any attention to these warnings, she con-
tinued still her eulogy. At length, provoked by this
indelicate and vain obtrusion of compliments, he ex-
claimed, * Dearest lady, consider with yourself what your
flattery is worth, before you bestow it so freely.'
" How different does this story appear, when accom-
panied with all those circumstances which really belong
142 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
to it, but which Mrs. Thrale either did not know, or has
suppressed ! "
How do we know that these circumstances really
belong to it ? what essential difference do they make ?
and how do they prove Mrs. Thrale's inaccuracy, who
expressly states the nature of the probable, though
certainly most inadequate, provocation.
The other instance is a story which she tells us on Mr.
Thrale's authority, of an argument between Johnson and
a gentleman, which the master of the house, a nobleman,
tried to cut short by saying loud enough for the Doctor to
hear, " Our friend has no meaning in all this, except just
to relate at the Club to-morrow how he teased Johnson at
dinner to-day ; this is all to do himself honour." " No,
upon my word," replied the other, " I see no honour in
it, whatever you may do." " Well, Sir," returned Mr.
Johnson sternly, " you do not see the honour, I am sure
I feel the disgrace." Malone, on the authority of a name-
less friend, asserts that it was not at the house of a noble-
man, that the gentleman's remark was uttered in a low
tone, and that Johnson made no retort at all. As Mrs.
Piozzi could hardly have invented the story, the sole
question is, whether Mr. Thrale or Mai one's friend was
right. She has written in the margin : " It was the
house of Thomas Fitzmaurice, son to Lord Shelburne,
and Pottinger the hero."
" Mrs. Piozzi," says Bos well, "has given a similar
misrepresentation of Johnson's treatment of Garrick
in this particular (as to the Club), as if he had used
these contemptuous expressions : * If Grarrick does
ALLEGED INACCURACY. 143
apply, I'll blackball him. Surely one ought to sit in a
society like ours
"Unelbow'd by a gamester, pimp, or player.' "
The lady retorts, " He did say so, and Mr. Thrale stood
astonished." Johnson was constantly depreciating the
profession of the stage.
Whilst finding fault with Mrs. Piozzi for inaccuracy
in another place, Boswell supplies an additional example
of Johnson's habitual disregard of the ordinary rules of
good breeding in society :
" A learned gentleman [Dr. Vansittart], who, in the
course of conversation, wished to inform us of this sim-
ple fact, that the council upon the circuit of Shrewsbury
were much bitten by fleas, took, I suppose, seven or
eight minutes in relating it circumstantially. He in a
plenitude of phrase told us, that large bales of woollen
cloth were lodged in the town- hall ; that by reason of
this, fleas nestled there in prodigious numbers ; that the
lodgings of the council were near the town-hall ; and
that those little animals moved from place to place with
wonderful agility. Johnson sat in great impatience till
the gentleman had finished his tedious narrative, and
then burst out (playfully however), * It is a pity, Sir,
that you have not seen a lion ; for a flea has taken you
such a time, that a lion must have served you a twelve-
month.' "
He complains in a note that Mrs. Piozzi, to whom he
told the anecdote, has related it " as if the gentleman
had given the natural history of the mouse." But, in
144 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MES. PIOZZI.
a letter to Johnson she tells him " I have seen the man
that saw the mouse," and he replies " Poor V , he
is a good man, &c. ; " so that her version of the story
is the best authenticated. Opposite Boswell's aggressive
paragraph she has written : " I saw old Mitchell of
Brighthelmstone affront him (Johnson) terribly once
about fleas. Johnson being tired of the subject ex-
pressed his impatience of it with coarseness. 'Why,
Sir,' said the old man, ' why should not Flea bite o'me
be treated as Phlebotomy ? It empties the capillary
vessels.' "
Boswell's Life of Johnson was not published till
1791 ; but the controversy kindled by the Tour to the
Hebrides and the Anecdotes, raged fiercely enough to
fix general attention and afford ample scope for ridi-
cule : " The Bozzi, &c. subjects," writes Hannah More
in April 1786, " are not exhausted, though everybody
seems heartily sick of them. Everybody, however,
conspires not to let them drop. That, the Cagliostro,
and the Cardinal's necklace, spoil all conversation, and
destroyed a very good evening at Mr. Pepys' last night."
In one of Walpole's letters about the same time we find :
" All conversation turns on a trio of culprits Has-
tings, Fitzgerald, and the Cardinal de Rohan. . . So
much for tragedy. Our comic performers are Bos well
and Dame Piozzi. The cock biographer has fixed a direct
lie on the hen, by an advertisement in which he affirms
that he communicated his manuscript to Madame
Thrale, and that she made no objection to what he
says of her low opinion of Mrs. Montagu's book. It
WALPOLE AND PETER PINDAR. 145
is very possible that it might not be her real opinion,
but was uttered in compliment to Johnson, or for fear
he should spit in her face if she disagreed with him ;
but how will she get over her not objecting to the pas-
sage remaining ? She must have known, by knowing
Boswell, and by having a similar intention herself, that
his * Anecdotes' would certainly be published : in short,
the ridiculous woman will be strangely disappointed.
As she must have heard that the whole first impression
of her book was sold the first day, no doubt she ex-
pected on her landing, to be received like the governor
of Gibraltar, and to find the road strewed with branches
of palm. She, and Boswell, and their Hero, are the
joke of the public. A Dr. Walcot, soi-disant Peter
Pindar, has published a burlesque eclogue, in which
Boswell and the Signora are the interlocutors, and all
the absurdest passages in the works of both are ridi-
culed. The print-shops teem with satiric prints in
them : one in which Boswell, as a monkey, is riding on
Johnson, the bear, has this witty inscription, ' My
Friend delineavit.'' But enough of these mounte-
banks."
What Walpole calls the absurdest passages are pre-
cisely those which possess most interest for posterity ;
namely, the minute personal details, which bring John-
son home to the mind's eye. Peter Pindar, however,
was simply acting in his vocation when he made the
best of them, as in the following lines. His satire is
in the form of a Town Eclogue in which Bozzy and
VOL. I. L
146 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
Piozzi contend in anecdotes with Hawkins for um-
pire : -
BOZZT.
" One Thursday morn did Doctor Johnson wake,
And call out ' Lanky, Lanky,' by mistake
But recollecting ' Bozzy, Bozzy/ cry'd
For in contractions Johnson took a pride ! "
MADAME PIOZZI.
" I ask'd him if he knock'd Tom Osborn down ;
As such a tale was current through the town,
Says I, ' Do tell me, Doctor, what befell.'
' Why, dearest lady, there is nought to tell :
' I ponder'd on the proper 1 st mode to treat him
' The dog was impudent, and so I beat him !
( Tom, like a fool, proclaim'd his fancied wrongs ;
1 Others, that I belabour' d, held their tongues.' "
"Did any one, that he was happy, cry
Johnson would tell him plumply, 'twas a lie.
A Lady told him she was really so ;
On which he sternly answer'd, ' Madam, no !
' Sickly you are, and ugly foolish, poor ;
' And therefore can't be happy, I am sure.
' 'Twould make a fellow hang himself, whose ear
'Were, from such creatures, forc'd such stuff to hear.' "
BOZZT.
" Lo, when we landed on the Isle of Mull,
The megrims got into the Doctor's skull :
With such bad humours he began to fill,
I thought he would not go to Icolmkill :
But lo ! those megrims (wonderful to utter !)
Were banish'd all by tea and bread and butter ! "
At last they get angry, and tell each other a few
home truths :
BOZZT.
" How could your folly tell, so void of truth,
That miserable story of the youth,
WTio, in your book, of Doctor Johnson begs
Most seriously to know if cats laid eggs ! "
PETER PINDAR. U7
MADAME PIOZZ1.
" Who told of Mistress Montague the lie
So palpable a falsehood ? Bozzy, fie ! "
BOZZT.
" Who, madd'ning with an anecdotic itch,
Declar'd that Johnson call'd his mother b-tch?"
MADAME PIOZZI.
" Who, from M'Donald's rage to save his snout,
Cut twenty lines of defamation out ? "
BOZZT.
" Who would have said a word about Sam's wig,
Or told the story of the peas and pig P
Who would have told a tale so very flat,
Of Frank the Black, and Hodge the mangy cat ? "
MADAME PIOZZT.
" Good me ! you're grown at once confounded tender ;
Of Doctor Johnson's fame ajierce defender:
I'm sure you've mention'd many a pretty story
Not much redounding to the Doctor's glory.
Now for a saint upon us you would palm him
First murder the poor man, and then embalm him ! '
BOZZT.
" Well, Ma'am ! since all that Johnson said or wrote,
You hold so sacred, how have you forgot
To grant the wonder-hunting world a reading
Of Sam's Epistle, just before your wedding ;
Beginning thus, (in strains not form'd to flatter)
' Madam,
' If that most ignominious matter
' Be not concluded '
Farther shall I say ?
No we shall have it from yourself some day,
To justify your passion for the Youth,
With all the charms of eloquence and truth."
MADAME PIOZZI.
" What was my marriage, Sir, to you or him f
He tell me what to do 1 a pretty whim !
148 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
He, to propriety, (the beast) resort .'
As well might elephants preside at court.
Lord ! let the world to damn my match agree ;
Good God ! James Boswell, what's that ivorld to me ?
The folks who paid respects to Mistress Thrale,
Fed on her pork, poor souls ! and swill'd her ale,
May sicken at Piozzi, nine in ten
Turn up the nose of scorn good God ! what then ?
For me, the Dev'l may fetch their souls so great ;
They keep their homes, and I, thank God, my meat.
When they, poor owls ! shall beat their cage, a jail,
I, unconfin'd, shall spread my peacock tail ;
Free as the birds of air, enjoy my ease,
Choose my own food, and see what climes I please.
I suffer only if I'm in the wrong :
So, now, you prating puppy, hold your tongue."
Walpole's opinion of the book itself had been ex-
pressed in a preceding letter, dated March 28th, 1786 :
" Two days ago appeared Madame Piozzi's Anecdotes
of Dr. Johnson. I am lamentably disappointed in
her, I mean : not in him. I had conceived a favour-
able opinion of her capacity. But this new book is
wretched; a high-varnished preface to a heap of rub-
bish in a very vulgar style, and too void of method
even for such a farrago. . . The Signora talks of
her doctor's eocpanded mind and has contributed her
mite to show that never mind was narrower. In fact,
the poor woman is to be pitied : he was mad, and his
disciples did not find it out, but have unveiled all his
defects ; nay, have exhibited all bis brutalities as
wit, and his worst conundrums as humour. Judge!
The Piozzi relates that a young man asking him
SUCCESS OF THE ANECDOTES. H9
where Palmyra was, he replied : ' In Ireland : it was
a bog planted with palm trees.' "
Walpole's statement that the whole first impression
was sold the first day is confirmed by one of her letters,
and may be placed alongside of a statement of John-
son's reported in the book. Clarissa being mentioned
as a perfect character, " on the contrary (said he) you
may observe that there is always something which she
prefers to truth. Fielding's Amelia was the most
pleasing heroine of all the romances ; but that vile
broken nose never cured, ruined the sale of perhaps
the only book, which being printed off betimes one
morning, a new edition was called for before night."
In April, 1786, Hannah More writes:
" Mrs. Piozzi's book is much in fashion. It is in-
deed entertaining, but there are two or three passages
exceedingly unkind to Grarrick which filled me with
indignation. If Johnson had been envious enough to
utter them, she might have been prudent enough to
suppress them."
In a preceding letter she had said :
" Boswell tells me he is printing anecdotes of Dr.
Johnson, not his life, but, as he has the vanity to call
it, his pyramid. I besought his tenderness for our
virtuous and most revered departed friend, and begged
he would mitigate some of his asperities. He said
roughly, he would not cut off his claws, nor make a
tiger a cat to please anybody." The retort will serve
for both Mrs. Piozzi and himself.
The copy of the t( Anecdotes " in my possession has
L 3
150 LIFE AND WHITINGS OF MBS. PIOZZI.
two inscriptions on the blank leaves before the title-
page. The one is in Mrs. Piozzi's handwriting : " This
little dirty book is kindly accepted by Sir James Fellowes
from his obliged friend, H. L. Piozzi, 14th February,
1816 ;" the other : " This copy of the 'Anecdotes ' was"
found at Bath, covered with dirt, the book having been
long out of print *, and after being bound was presented
to me by my excellent friend, H. L. P. (signed) J. F."
It is enriched by marginal notes in her handwriting,
which enable us to fill up a few puzzling blanks, besides
supplying some information respecting men and books,
which will be prized by all lovers of literature.
One of the anecdotes runs thus : " I asked him once
concerning the conversation powers of a gentleman with
whom I was myself unacquainted. * He talked to me
at the Club one day (replies our Doctor) concerning
Catiline's conspiracy ; so I withdrew my attention, and
thought about Tom Thumb.' "
In the margin is written " Charles James Fox." Mr.
Croker came to the conclusion that the gentleman was
Mr. Vesey. Boswell says that Fox never talked with
any freedom in the presence of Johnson, who accounted
for his reserve by suggesting that a man who is used to
the applause of the House of Commons, has no wish for
that of a private company. But the real cause was his
sensitiveness to rudeness, his own temper being sin-
gularly sweet. By an odd coincidence he occupied the
presidential chair at the Club on the evening when John-
* The "Anecdotes" were reprinted by Messrs. Longman in
1856, and form part of their " Traveller's Library."
ANECDOTES. 151
son emphatically declared every Whig to be a scoundrel.
Again : " On an occasion of less consequence, when
he turned his back on Lord Bolingbroke in the rooms
at Brighthelmstone, he made this excuse : ' I am not
obliged, Sir,' said he to Mr. Thrale, who stood fret-
ting, ' to find reasons for respecting the rank of him
who will not condescend to declare it by his dress
or some other visible nfark : what are stars and other
signs of superiority made for ? ' The next evening,
however, he made us comical amends, by sitting by
the same nobleman, and haranguing very loudly about
the nature, and use, and abuse, of divorces. Many
people gathered round them to hear what was said, and
when my husband called him away, and told him to
whom he had been talking, received an answer which I
will not write down."
The marginal note is : " He said : ' Why, Sir, I did
not know the man. If he will put on no other mark of
distinction, let us make him wear his horns.' " Lord
Bolingbroke had divorced his wife, afterwards Lady
Diana Beauclerc, for infidelity.
A marginal note naming the lady of quality men-
tioned in the following anecdote, verifies Mr. Croker's
conjectural statement concerning her :
" For a lady of quality, since dead, who received us
at her husband's seat in Wales, with less attention than
he had long been accustomed to, he had a rougher de-
nunciation : * That woman,' cries Johnson, * is like sour
small beer, the beverage of her table, and produce of
the wretched country she lives in : like that, she could
L 4
152 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
never have been a good thing, and even that bad thing
is spoiled.' This was in the same vein of asperity, and
I believe with something like the same provocation, that
he observed of a Scotch lady, 'that she resembled a dead
nettle ; were she alive,' said he, ' she would sting.' "
From similar notes we learn that the " somebody "
who declared Johnson a tremendous converser was
Greorge Grarrick ; and that it was Dr. Delap, of Sussex,
to whom, when lamenting the tender state of his inside,
he cried out : " Dear Doctor, do not be like the spider,
man, and spin conversation thus incessantly out of thy
own bowels." *
On the margin of the page in which Hawkins
Browne is commended as the most delightful of con-
versers, she has written : " Who wrote the * Imitation
of all the Poets ' in his own ludicrous verses, praising
the pipe of tobacco. Of Hawkins Browne, the pretty Mrs.
Cholmondeley said she was soon tired ; because the first
hour he was so dull, there was no bearing him ; the
second he was so witty, there was no bearing him ; the
third he was so drunk, there was no bearing him."|
* Lord Melbourne complained of two ladies of quality, sisters,
that they told him too much of their " natural history."
t Query, whether this is the gentleman immortalised by Peter
Plymley : " In the third year of his present Majesty (George III.)
and in the thirtieth of his own age, Mr. Isaac Hawkins Brown,
then upon his travels, danced one evening at the court of Naples.
His dress was a volcano silk, with lava buttons. Whether (as the
Neapolitan wits said) he had studied dancing under Saint Vitus,
or whether David, dancing in a linen vest, was his model, is not
known , but Mr. Brown danced with such inconceivable alacrity
ANECDOTES. 153
In the "Anecdotes" she relates that one day in
Wales she meant to please Johnson with a dish of
young peas. " Are they not charming ? " said I, while
he was eating them. " Perhaps," said he, " they would
be so to a pig ; " meaning (according to the marginal
note), because they were too little boiled.
" Of the various states and conditions of humanity,
he despised none more, I think, than the man who
marries for maintenance : and of a friend who made his
alliance on no higher principles, he said once, 'Now
has that fellow,' it was a nobleman of whom we were
speaking, * at length obtained a certainty of three
meals a day, and for that certainty, like his brother dog
in the fable, he will get his neck galled for life with a
collar.' " The nobleman was Lord Sandys.
" He recommended, on something like the same
principle, that when one person meant to serve another,
he should not go about it slily, or, as we say, underhand,
out of a false idea of delicacy, to surprise one's friend
with an unexpected favour ; ' which, ten to one,' says
he, ' fails to oblige your acquaintance, who had some
reasons against such a mode of obligation, which you
might have known but for that superfluous cunning
which you think an elegance. Oh ! never be seduced
by such silly pretences,' continued he ; * if a wench
wants a good gown, do not give her a fine smelling-
and vigour, that lie threw the Queen of Naples into convulsions of
laughter, which terminated in a miscarriage, and changed the
dynasty of the Neapolitan throne."
154 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MBS. PIOZZI.
bottle, because that is more delicate : as I once knew a
lady lend the key of her library to a poor scribbling
dependant, as if she took the woman for an ostrich that
could digest iron.' " This lady was Mrs. Montague.
" I mentioned two friends who were particularly fond
of looking at themselves in a glass * They do not
surprise me at all by so doing,' said Johnson : ' they see,
reflected in that glass, men who have risen from almost
the lowest situations in life ; one to enormous riches,
the other to everything this world can give rank, fame,
and fortune. They see, likewise, men who have merited
their advancement by the exertion and improvement of
those talents which Grod had given them; and I see
not why they should avoid the mirror.' "
The one, she writes, was Mr. Cator, the other, Wed-
derburne. Another great lawyer and very ugly man,
Dunning, Lord Ashburton, was remarkable for the same
peculiarity, and had his walls covered with looking-
glasses. His personal vanity was excessive; and his
boast that a celebrated courtesan had died with one of
his letters in her hand, provoked one of Wilkes's happiest
repartees.
Opposite a passage descriptive of Johnson's con-
versation, she has written : " We used to say to one
another familiarly at Streatham Park, * Come, let us
go into the library, and make Johnson speak Eam-
blers.' "
The Piozzis returned from Italy in March, 1787, and
soon after their arrival hired a house in Hanover Square,
where they resided till May, 1790, when they removed
RECEPTION IN LONDON. 155
to Streatham. The Johnsonian circle was broken up,
and some of its most distinguished members were no
more. Still it is curious to mark how this woman who
had " fled from the laughter and hisses of her country-
men to a land where she was unknown," was received
where she was best known after an absence of less than
three years. According to the Autobiography, her re-
ception was in all respects satisfactory, and it only
depended upon herself to resume her former place in
society. A few extracts from her Diary will help to
show how far this conclusion was well founded or the
contrary :
"1787, May 1st. It was not wrong to come home
after all, but very right. The Italians would have said
we were afraid to face England, and the English would
have said we were confined abroad in prisons or con-
vents or some stuff. I find Mr. Smith (one of our
daughter's guardians) told that poor baby Cecilia a fine
staring tale how my husband locked me up at Milan
and fed me on bread and water, to make the child hate
Mr. Piozzi. Good God ! What infamous proceeding
was this ! My husband never saw the fellow, so could
not have provoked him."
" May 19th. We had a fine assembly last night in-
deed : in my best days I never had finer ; there were
near a hundred people in the rooms which were besides
inuch admired."
" 1788, January 1st. How little I thought this day
four years that I should celebrate this '1st of January,
1788, here at Bath, surrounded with friends and ad-
156 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MES. PIOZZI.
mirers ? The public partial to me, and almost every
individual whose kindness is worth wishing for, sincerely
attached to my husband."
" Mrs. Byron is converted by Piozzi's assiduity, she
really likes him now : and sweet Mrs. Lambert told
everybody at Bath she was in love with him."
" I have passed a delightful winter in spite of them,
caressed by my friends, adored by my husband, amused
with every entertainment that is going forward : what
need I think about three sullen Misses ? . . . and
yet!"-
" August 1st. Baretti has been grossly abusive in
the ( European Magazine ' to me : that hurts me but
little ; what shocks me is that those treacherous Bur-
neys should abet and puff him. He is a most un-
grateful because unprincipled wretch ; but I am sorry
that anything belonging to Dr. Burney should be so
monstrously wicked."
" 1789, January IJth. Mrs. Siddons dined in a co-
terie of my unprovoked enemies yesterday at Porteus's.
She mentioned our concerts, and the Erskines lamented
their absence from one we gave two days ago, at which
Mrs. Grarrick was present and gave a good report to the
Blues. Charming Blues ! blue with venom I think ; I
suppose they begin to be ashamed of their paltry beha-
viour. Mrs. Grarrick, more prudent than any of them,
left a loophole for returning friendship to fasten through,
and it shall fasten : that woman has lived a very wise
life, regular and steady in her conduct, attentive to
every word she speaks and every step she treads, de-
DOMESTIC THOUGHTS. 157
corous in her manners and graceful in her person. My
fancy forms the Queen just like Mrs. Garrick : they are
countrywomen and have, as the phrase is, had a hard
card to play ; yet never lurched by tricksters nor sub-
dued by superior powers, they will rise from the table
unhurt either by others or themselves . . . having
played a saving game. I have run risques to be sure,
that I have; yet
" ' When after some distinguished leap
She drops her pole and seems to slip,
Straight gath'ring all her active strength,
She rises higher half her length ; '
and better than now I have never stood with the world
in general, I believe. May the books just sent to press
confirm the partiality of the Public ! "
" 1789, Ja/nua/ry. I have a great deal more prudence
than people suspect me for : they think I act by chance
while I am doing nothing in the world unintentionally,
and have never, I dare say, in these last fifteen years
uttered a word to husband, or child, or servant, or friend,
without being very careful what it should be. Often
have I spoken what I have repented after, but that was
want of judgment, not of meaning. What I said I
meant to say at the time, and thought it best to say.
. . . I do not err from haste or a spirit of
rattling, as people think I do : when I err, 'tis because I
make a false conclusion, not because I make no con-
clusion at all ; when I rattle, I rattle on purpose."
" 1789, May 1st. Mrs. Montague wants to make up
158 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
with me again. I dare say she does ; but I will not be
taken and left even at the pleasure of those who are
much nearer and dearer to me than Mrs. Montague.
We want no flash, no flattery. 1 never had more of
either in my life, nor ever lived half so happily : Mrs.
Montague wrote creeping letters when she wanted my
help, or foolishly thought she did, and then turned her
back upon me and set her adherents to do the same. I
despise such conduct, and Mr. Pepys, Mrs. Ord, &c. now
sneak about and look ashamed of themselves well
they may ! "
"1790, March 18th. I met Miss Burney at an as-
sembly last night 'tis six years since I had seen her :
she appeared most fondly rejoyced, in good time ! and
Mrs. Locke, at whose house we stumbled on each other,
pretended that she had such a regard for me, &c. I an-
swered with ease and coldness, but in exceeding good
humour : and we talked of the King and Queen, his
Majesty's illness and recovery . . . and all ended
as it should do with perfect indifference."
" I saw Master Pepys too and Mrs. Ord ; and only
see how foolish and how mortified the people do but
look."
" Barclay and Perkins live very genteely. I dined
with them at our brewhouse one day last week. I felt
so oddly in the old house where I had lived so long."
" The Pepyses find out that they have used me very
ill ... I hope they find out too that I do not
care. Seward too sues for reconcilement underhand
DOMESTIC THOUGHTS. 159
. . . so they do all ; and I sincerely forgive them
but, like the linnet in 'Metastasio '
" ' Cauto divien per prova
Ne piu tradir si fa.'
" ' When lim'd, the poor bird thus with eagerness strains,
Nor regrets his torn wing while his freedom he gains :
The loss of his plumage small time will restore,
And once tried the false twig it shall cheat him no more.' "
*' 1790, July 28th. We have kept our seventh wed-
ding day and celebrated our return to this house * with
prodigious splendour and gaiety. Seventy people to
dinner. . . . Never was a pleasanter day seen,
and at night the trees and front of the house were
illuminated with coloured lamps that called forth our
neighbours from all the adjacent villages to admire and
enjoy the diversion. Many friends swear that not less
than a thousand men, women, and children might have
been counted in the house and grounds, where, though
all were admitted, nothing was stolen, lost, or broken,
or even damaged a circumstance almost incredible ;
and which gave Mr. Piozzi a high opinion of English
gratitude and respectful attachment."
" 1790, December 1st. Dr. Parr and I are in corre-
spondence, and his letters are very flattering: I am
proud of his notice to be sure, and he seems pleased
with my acknowledgments of esteem : he is a pro-
digious scholar . . . but in the meantime I have
lost Dr. Lort."
The following are some of the names most fre-
* Streatham.
160 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
quently mentioned in her Diary as visiting or cor-
responding with her after her return from Italy :
" Lord Fife, Dr. Moore, the Kembles, Dr. Currie,
Mrs. Lewis (widow of the Dean of Ossory), Dr. Lort,
Sir Lucas Pepys, Mr. Selwin, Sammy Lysons (sic), Sir
Philip Clerke, Hon. Mrs. Byron, Mrs. Siddons, Arthur
Murphy, Mr. and Mrs. Whalley, the Grreatheads, Mr.
Parsons, Miss Seward, Miss Lee, Dr Barnard (Bishop
of Killaloe, better known as Dean of Derry), Hinch-
cliffe (Bishop of Peterborough), Mrs. Lambert, the
Staffords, Lord Huntingdon, Lady Betty Cobb and her
daughter Mrs. Grould, Lord Dudley, Lord Cowper, Lord
Pembroke, Marquis Araciel, Count Marteningo, Count
Meltze, Mrs. Drummond Smith, Mr. Chappelow, Mrs..
Hobart, Miss Nicholson, Mrs. Locke, Lord Deerhurst.
Resentment for her imputed unkindness to Johnson
might have been expected to last longest at his birth-
place. But Miss Seward writes from Lichfield, October
6th, 1787:
" Mrs. Piozzi completely answers your description :
her conversation is indeed that bright wine of the intel-
lects which has no lees ... I shall always feel in-
debted to him (Mr. Perkins) for eight or nine hours of
Mr. and Mrs. Piozzi's society. They passed one evening
here, and I the next with them at their inn."
Again to Miss Helen Williams, Lichfield, December,
25th, 1787 :
"Yes, it is very true, on the evening he (Colonel
Barry) mentioned to you, when Mrs. Piozzi honoured
this roof, his conversation greatly contributed to its
HER ELDEST DAUGHTER'S MARRIAGE. 161
Attic spirit. Till that day I had never conversed with
her. There has been no exaggeration, there could be
none, in the description given you of Mra. Piozzi's
talents for conversation ; at least in the powers of classic
allusion and brilliant wit."
That she and her eldest daughter should ever be
again on a perfect footing of confidence and affection,
was a moral impossibility. Estrangements are commonly
durable in proportion to the closeness of the tie that
has been severed or loosened ; and it is no more than
natural that each party, yearning for a reconciliation
and not knowing that the wish is reciprocated, should
persevere in casting the blame of the prolonged cold-
ness on the other. The occasional sarcasms which Mrs.
Piozzi levels at Miss Thrale no more prove disregard or
indifference, than Swift's " only a woman's hair " implies
contempt for the sex.
Her marriage with Lord Keith in 1808 is thus men-
tioned in " Thraliana " :
" The T. (' Thraliana ') is coming to an end ; so are the
Thrales. The eldest is married now. Admiral Lord
Keith the man ; a good man for ought I hear : a rich
man for ought I am told : a brave man we have always
heard : and a wise man I trow by his choice. The
name no new one, and excellent for a charade, e.g.
" A Faery my first, who to fame makes pretence j
My second a Rock, dear Britannia's defence ;
In my third when combined will too quickly be shown
The Faery and Rock in our brave Elphin-stone."
Mrs. Piozzi's next publication was " Letters To and
VOL. I. M
162 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
From the late Samuel Johnson, LL.D., &c." In the Pre-
face she speaks of the "Anecdotes" having been received
with a degree of approbation she hardly dared to hope,
and exclaims, " May these Letters in some measure pay
my debt of gratitude ! they will not surely be the first,
the only thing written by Johnson, with which our
nation has not been pleased." A strange mode of con-
ciliating favour for a book ; but she proceeds in a differ-
ent strain : " The good taste by which our countrymen
are distinguished, will lead them to prefer the native
thoughts and unstudied phrases scattered over these
pages to the more laboured elegance of his other works ;
as bees have been observed to reject roses, and fix upon
the wild fragrance of a neighbouring heath." When-
ever Johnson took pen in hand, the chances were,
that what he produced would belong to the composite
order; the unstudied phrases were reserved for his
"talk," and he wished his Letters to be preserved.*
The main value of these consists in the additional
illustrations they afford of his conduct in private life,
and of his opinions on the management of domestic
affairs. The lack of literary and public interest is ad-
mitted and excused :
" None but domestic and familiar events can be ex-
pected from a private correspondence ; no reflexions
but such as they excite can be found there ; yet who-
ever tarns away disgusted by the insipidity with which
this, and I suppose every correspondence must naturally
and almost necessarily begin will here be likely to lose
* Vol. i. p. 295.
LETTERS. 163
some genuine pleasure, and some useful knowledge of
what our heroic Milton was himself contented to re-
spect, as
" ' That which before thee lies in daily life.'
" And should I be charged with obtruding trifles on
the public, I might reply, that the meanest animals
preserved in amber become of value to those who form
collections of natural history; that the fish found in
Monte Bolca serve as proofs of sacred writ ; and that
the cart-wheel stuck in the rock of Tivoli, is now found
useful in computing the rotation of the earth."
" Horace Walpole," says Boswell, " thought Johnson
a more amiable character after reading his Letters to
Mrs. Thrale, but never was one of the true admirers of
that great man." Madame D'Arblay came to an op-
posite conclusion; in her Diary, January 9th, 1788, she
writes :
" To-day Mrs. Schwellenberg did me a real favour,
and with real good nature, for she sent me the letters
of my poor lost friends, Dr. Johnson and Mrs. Thrale,
which she knew me to be almost pining to procure.
The book belongs to the Bishop of Carlisle, who lent it
to Mr. Turbulent, from whom it was again lent to the
Queen, and so passed on to Mrs. S. It is still unpub-
lished. With what a sadness have I been reading !
what scenes has it revived ! what regrets renewed !
These letters have not been more improperly published
in the whole than they are injudiciously displayed in
their several parts. She has given all, every word, and
164 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
thinks that perhaps a justice to Dr. Johnson, which, in
fact, is the greatest injury to his memory.
" The few she has selected of her own do her, in-
deed, much credit ; she has discarded all that were tri-
vial and merely local, and given only such as contain
something instructive, amusing, or ingenious."
She admits only four of Johnson's letters to be worthy
of his exalted powers : one upon Death, in considering
its approach, as we are surrounded, or not, by mourn-
ers ; another upon the sudden death of Mrs. Thrale's
only son. Her chief motive for " almost pining " for
the book, steeped as she was in egotism, may be
guessed :
" Our name once occurred ; how I started at its sight!
Tis to mention the party that planned the first visit to
-our house."
She says she had so many attacks upon " her (Mrs.
Piozzi's) subject," that at last she fairly begged quarter.
Yet nothing she could say could put a stop to, " How
can you defend her in this ? how can you justify her
in that ? &c. &c." " Alas ! that I cannot defend her is
precisely the reason I can so ill bear to speak of her.
How differently and how sweetly has the Queen
conducted herself upon this occasion. Eager to see the
Letters, she began reading them with the utmost avi-
dity. A natural curiosity arose to be informed of seve-
ral names and several particulars, which she knew I
could satisfy ; yet when she perceived how tender a
string she touched, she soon suppressed her inquiries, or
only made them with so much gentleness towards the
MADAME D'ARBLAY. 165
parties mentioned, that I could not be distressed in my
answers ; and even in a short time I found her ques-
tions made in so favourable a disposition, that I began
secretly to rejoice in them, as the means by which I
reaped opportunity of clearing several points that had
been darkened by calumny, and of softening others that
had been viewed wholly through false lights. To lessen
disapprobation of a person, and so precious to me in
the opinion of another, so respectable both in rank and
virtue, was to me a most soothing task &c."
This is precisely what many will take the liberty to
doubt ; or why did she shrink from it, or why did she
not afford to others the explanations which proved so
successful with the Queen ?
The day following (Jan. 10th), her feelings were so
worked upon by the harsh aspersions on her friend,
that she was forced, she tells us, abruptly to quit the
room ; leaving not her own (like Sir Peter Teazle) but
her friend's character behind her.
" I returned when I could, and the subject was over.
When all were gone, Mrs. Schwellenberg said, ' I
have told it Mr. Fisher, that he drove you out from the
room, and he says he won't do it no more.'
" She told me next, that in the second volume I also
was mentioned. Where she may have heard this I
cannot gather, but it has given me a sickness at heart,
inexpressible. It is not that I expect severity ; for at
the time of that correspondence, at all times indeed
previous to the marriage with Piozzi, if Mrs. Thrale
loved not F. B., where shall we find faith in words, or
u 3
166 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
give credit to actions. But her present resentment,
however unjustly incurred, of my constant disapproba-
tion of her conduct, may prompt some note, or other
mark, to point out her change of sentiment. But let me
try to avoid such painful expectations ; at least not to
dwell upon them. 0, little does she know how ten-
derly at this moment I could run into her arms, so
often opened to receive me with a cordiality I believed
inalienable. And it was sincere then, I am satisfied ;
pride, resentment of disapprobation, and consciousness
of unjustifiable proceedings these have now changed
her ; but if we met, and she saw and believed my faith-
ful regard, how would she again feel all her own re-
turn ! Well, what a dream I am making ! "
The ingrained worldliness of the diarist is ill-con-
cealed by the mask of sensibility. The correspondence
that passed between the ladies during their temporary
rupture (ante, p. 107) shows that there was nothing to
prevent her from flying into her friend's arms, could
she have made up her mind to be seen on open terms
of affectionate intimacy with one who was repudiated by
the Court. In a subsequent conversation with which the
Queen honoured her on the subject, she did her best to
impress her Majesty with the belief that Mrs. Piozzi's
conduct had rendered it impossible for her former
friends to allude to her without regret, and she ended
by thanking her royal mistress for her forbearance.
" Indeed," cried she, with eyes strongly expressive of
the complacency with which she heard me, " I have
always spoken as little as possible upon this affair. I
HANNAH MORE. MISS SEWARD. 167
remember but twice that I have named it : once I said
to the Bishop of Carlisle that I thought most of these
letters had better have been spared the printing ; and
once to Mr. Langton, at the drawing-room I said,
* Your friend Dr. Johnson, Sir, has had many friends
busy to publish his books, and his memoirs, and his
meditations, and his thoughts ; but I think he wanted
one friend more.' ' What for, Ma'am ? ' cried he.
* A friend to suppress them,' I answered. And, in-
deed, this is all I ever said about the business."
Hannah More's opinion of the Letters is thus ex-
pressed in her Memoirs :
" They are such as ought to have been written but
ought not to have been printed : a few of them are
very good : sometimes he is moral, and sometimes he
is kind. The imprudence of editors and executors is
an additional reason why men of parts should be afraid
to die.* Burke said to me the other day, in allusion to
the innumerable lives, anecdotes, remains, &c., of this
great man, ' How many maggots have crawled out of that
great body?'"
Miss Seward writes to Mrs. Knowles, April, 1788 :
" And now what say you to the last publication of
your sister wit, Mrs. Piozzi ? It is well that she has
had the good nature to extract almost all the corrosive
particles from the old growler's letters. By means of
her benevolent chemistry, these effusions of that ex-
* An Ex Lord Chancellor complained that " Lives of the Lord
Chancellors " had added a new pang to death.
-M 4
168 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
pansive but gloomy spirit taste more oily and sweet
than one could have imagined possible."
The letters contained two or three passages relating
to Baretti, which exasperated him to the highest pitch.
One was in a letter from Johnson, dated July 15th,
1775:-
" The doctor says, that if Mr. Thrale comes so near
as Derby without seeing us, it will be a sorry trick. I
wish, for my part, that he may return soon, and rescue
the fair captives from the tyranny of B i. Poor
B i ! do not quarrel with him ; to neglect him a
little will be sufficient. He means only to be frank,
and manly, and independent, and perhaps, as you say,
a little wise. To be frank he thinks is to be cynical,
and to be independent is to be rude. Forgive him,
dearest lady, the rather, because of his misbehaviour,
I am afraid he learned part of rne. I hope to set him
hereafter a better example."
The most galling was in a letter of hers to Dr.
Johnson :
" How does Dr. Taylor do ? He was very kind I
remember when my thunder-storm came first on, so
was Count Mauucci, so was Mrs. Montague, so was
everybody. The world is not guilty of much general
harshness, nor inclined I believe to increase pain which
they do not perceive to be deserved.- Baretti alone
tried to irritate a wound so very deeply inflicted, and
he will find few to approve his cruelty. Your friendship
is our best cordial ; continue it to us, dear Sir, and write
very soon."
BiRETTI. 169
In the margin of the printed copy is written, " Cruel,
cruel, Baretti." He had twitted her, whilst mourning
over a dead child, with having killed it by administer-
ing a quack medicine instead of attending to the
physician's prescriptions ; a charge which he acknow-
ledged and repeated in print. He published three
successive papers in " The European Magazine " for
1788, assailing her with the coarsest ribaldry. "I
have just read for the first time," writes Miss Seward
in June, 1788, "the base, ungentleman-like, unmanly
abuse of Mrs. Piozzi by that Italian assassin, Baretti.
The whole literary world should unite in publicly re-
probating such venomed and foul-mouthed railing."
He died soon afterwards, May 5th, 1789, and the notice
of him in the " Gentleman's Magazine " begins : " Mrs.
Piozzi has reason to rejoice in the death of Mr. Baretti,
for he had a very long memory and malice to relate all
he knew." And a good deal that he did not know, into
the bargain ; as when he prints a pretended conversa-
tion between Mr. and Mrs. Thrale about Piozzi, which
he afterwards admits to be a gratuitous invention and
rhetorical figure of his own, for conveying what is a
foolish falsehood on the face of it.
Baretti's death is thus noticed in " Thraliana," 8th
May, 1789:
" Baretti is dead. Poor Baretti ! I am sincerely
sorry for him, and as Zanga says, * If I lament thee,
sure thy worth was great.' He was a manly character,
at worst, and died, as he lived, less like a Christian
than a philosopher, refusing all spiritual or corporeal
assistance, both which he considered useless to him,
170 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
and perhaps they were so. He paid his debts, called in
some single acquaintance, told him he was dying, and
drove away that Panada conversation which friends
think proper to administer at sick-bedsides with becom-
ing steadiness, bid him write his brothers word that he
was dead, and gently desired a woman who waited to
leave him quite alone. No interested attendants watch-
ing for ill-deserved legacies, no harpy relatives clung
round the couch of Baretti. He died !
" ' And art tliou dead ? so is my enmity :
I war not with the dead.'
"Baretti's papers manuscripts I mean have been
all burnt by his executors without examination, they tell
me. So great was his character as a mischief-maker,
that Vincent and Fendall saw no nearer way to safety
than that hasty and compendious one. Many people
think 'tis a good thing for me, but as I never trusted
the man, I see little harm he could have done me."
In the fury of his onslaught Baretti forgot that he
was strengthening her case against Johnson, of whom
he says : " His austere reprimand, and unrestrained
upbraidings, when face to face with her, always de-
lighted Mr. Thrale and were approved even by her
children. ' Harry,' said his father to her son, ' are you
listening to what the doctor and marnma are talking
about?' 'Yes, papa.' And quoth Mr. Thrale, 'What
are they saying ? ' ( They are disputing, and mamma
has just such a chance with Dr. Johnson as Presto (a
little dog) would have were he to fight Dash (a big
one).' '"' He adds that she left the room in a huff to
BARETTI. 171
the amusement of the party. If scenes like this were
frequent, no wonder the " yoke " became unendurable.
Baretti was obliged to admit that, when Johnson
died, they were not on speaking terms. His explana-
tion is that Johnson irritated him by an allusion to his
being beaten by Omai, the Sandwich islander, at chess.
Mrs. Piozzi's marginal note on Omai is : " When
Omai played at chess and at backgammon with Baretti,
everybody admired at the savage's good breeding and
at the European's impatient spirit."
Amongst her papers was the following sketch of his
character, written for " The World " newspaper*
" Mr. Conductor. Let not the death of Baretti pass
unnoticed by ' The World,' seeing that Baretti was a
wit if not a scholar : and had for five-and-thirty years
at least lived in a foreign country, whose language he
so made himself completely master of, that he could
satirise its inhabitants in their own tongue, better than
they knew how to defend themselves ; and often pleased,
without ever praising man or woman in book or conver-
sation. Long supported by the private bounty of friends,
he rather delighted to insult than flatter ; he at length
obtained competence from a public he esteemed not :
and died, refusing that assistance he considered as use-
less leaving no debts (but those of gratitude) undis-
charged ; and expressing neither regret of the past, nor
fear of the future, I believe. Strong in his prejudices,
haughty and independent in his spirit, cruel in his
anger, even when unprovoked; vindictive to excess,
if he through misconception supposed himself even
slightly injured, pertinacious in his attacks, invin-
172 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
cible in his aversions : the description of Menelaus in
* Homer's Iliad ' as rendered by Pope exactly suits the
character of Baretti :
" ' So burns the vengeful Hornet, soul all o'er,
Repuls'd in vain, and thirsty still for gore ;
Bold son of air and heat on angry wings,
Untamed, untired, he turns, attacks, and stings.' "
In reference to this article, she remarks in " Thra-
liana " :
" There seems to be a language now appropriated to
the newspapers, and a very wretched and unmeaning
language it is. Yet a certain set of expressions are so
necessary to please the diurnal readers, that when John-
son and I drew up an advertisement for charity once,
I remember the people altered our expressions and sub-
stituted their own, with good effect too. The other day
I sent a Character of Baretti to the e World,' and read
it two mornings after more altered than improved in
my mind : but no matter : they will talk of wielding
a language, and of barbarous infamy, sad stuff, to be
sure, but such is the taste of the times. They altered
even my quotation from Pope ; but that was too im-
pudent."
The comparison of Baretti to the hornet was truer
than she anticipated : animamque in vulnere ponit.
Internal evidence leads almost irresistibly to the con-
clusion that he was the author or prompter of " The
Sentimental Mother : a Comedy in Five Acts. The
Legacy of an Old Friend, and his ( Last Moral Lesson '
to Mrs. Hester Lynch Thrale, now Mrs. Hester Lynch
BARETTI. 173
Piozzi. London: Printed for James Ridgeway, York
Street, St. James's Square, 1789. Price three shillings."
The principal dramatis persona are Mr. Timothy
Tunskull (Thrale), Lady Fantasma Tunskull, two Misses
Tunskull, and Signer Squalici.
Lady Fantasma is vain, affected, silly, and amorous
to excess. Not satisfied with Squalici as her established
gallant, she makes compromising advances to her daugh-
ter's lover on his way to a tete-a-tete with the young
lady, who takes her wonted place on his knee with his
arm round her waist. Squalici is also a domestic spy,
and in league with the mother to cheat the daughters
out of their patrimony. Mr. Tunskull is a respectable
and complacent nonentity.
The dialogue is seasoned with the same malicious in-
sinuations which mark Baretti's letters in the "Euro-
pean Magazine ; " without the saving clause with which
shame or fear induced him to qualify the signed abuse,
namely, that no breach of chastity was suspected or
believed. It is difficult to imagine who else would
have thought of reverting to Thrale's establishment
eight years after it had been broken up by death.
Mrs. Piozzi had some-how contracted a belief, to
which she alludes more than once with unfeigned alarm,
that Mr. Samuel Lysons had formed a collection of all
the libels and caricatures of which she was the subject
on the occasion of her marriage. His collections have
been carefully examined, and the sole semblance of
warrant for her fears is an album or scrap-book con-
taining numerous extracts from the reviews and news-
174 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
papers, relating to her books. The only caricature pre-
served in it is the celebrated one by Sayers entitled
"Johnson's Grhost." The ghost, a flattering likeness
of the doctor, addresses a pretty woman seated at a
writing table :
" When Streatham spread its pleasant board,
I opened learning's valued hoard,
And as I feasted, prosed.
Good things I said, good things I eat,
I gave you knowledge for your meat,
And thought th' account was closed.
(t If obligations still I owed,
You sold each item to the crowd,
I suffered by the tale.
For God's sake, Madam, let me rest,
No longer vex your quondam guest,
I'll pay you for your ale."
When addresses were advertised for on the rebuild-
ing of Drury Lane, Sheridan proposed an additional
reward for one without a phoenix. Equally acceptable
for its rarity would be a squib on Mrs. Piozzi without
a reference to the brewery.
Her manuscript notes on the two volumes of Letters,
are numerous and important, comprising some curious
fragments of autobiography, written on separate sheets
of paper and pasted into the volumes opposite to
the passages which they expand or explain. They
would create an inconvenient break in the narrative if
introduced here, and they are reserved for a sepa->
rate section.
In 1789 she published " Observations and Eeflections
HER TRAVELS. 175
made in the course of a Journey through France, Italy,
and Germany," in two volumes octavo of about 400
pages each. As happened to almost everything she
did or wrote, this book was by turns assailed with in-
veterate hostility and praised with animated zeal. Wai-
pole writes to Mrs. Carter, June 13th, 1789 :
" I do not mean to misemploy much of your time
which I know is always passed in good works, and use-
fully. You have, therefore, probably not looked into
Piozzi's Travels. I who have been almost six weeks
lying on a couch have gone through them. It was
said that Addison might have written his without going
out of England. By the excessive vulgarisms so plen-
tiful in these volumes, one might suppose the writer
had never stirred out of the parish of St. Giles. Her
Latin, French, and Italian, too, are so miserably spelt,
that she had better have studied her own language
before she floundered into other tongues. Her friends
plead that she piques herself on writing as she talks :
methinks, then, she should talk as she would write.
There are many indiscretions too in her work of which
she will perhaps be told though Baretti is dead."
Miss Seward, much to her credit, repeated to Mrs.
Piozzi both the praise and the blame she had repeatedly
expressed to others. On December 21st, 1789, she
" writes :
" Suffer me now to speak to you of your highly in->
genious, instructive, and entertaining publication ; yet
shall it be with the sincerity of friendship, rather than
with the flourish of compliment. No work of the sort
176 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
I ever read possesses, in an equal degree, the power of
placing the reader in the scenes, and amongst the people
it describes. Wit, knowledge, and imagination illu-
minate its pages but the infinite inequality of the
style ! Permit me to acknowledge to you what I have
acknowledged to others, that it excites my exhaustless
wonder, that Mrs. Piozzi, the child of genius, the pupil
of Johnson, should pollute, with the vulgarisms of un-
polished conversation, her animated pages ! that,
while she frequently displays her power of command-
ing the most chaste and beautiful style imaginable, she
should generally use those inelegant, those strange dids,
and does, and thoughs, and toos, which produce jerking
angles, and stop-short abruptness, fatal at once to the
grace and ease of the sentence ; which are, in lan-
guage, what the rusty black silk handkerchief and the
brass ring -are upon the beautiful form of the Italian
countess she mentions, arrayed in embroidery, and blaz-
ing in jewels."
Mrs. Piozzi's theory was that books should be written
in the same colloquial and idiomatic language which
is employed by cultivated persons in conversation. " Be
thou familiar, but by no means vulgar ; " and vulgar
she certainly was not, although she sometimes indulged
her fondness for familiarity too far. The period was
unluckily chosen for carrying such a theory into prac-
tice ; for Johnson's authority had discountenanced idio-
matic writing, whilst many phrases and forms of speech,
which would not be endured now, were tolerated in
polite society.
HER STYLE. 177
The laws of spelling, too, were unfixed or vague, and
those of pronunciation, which more or less affected spell-
ing, still more so. " When," said Johnson, " I published
the plan of my dictionary, Lord Chesterfield told me that
the word great should be pronounced so as to rhyme to
state ; and Sir William Yonge sent me word that it
should be pronounced so as to rhyme to seat, and that
none but an Irishman would pronounce it grait. Now
here were two men of the highest rank, one the best
speaker in the House of Lords, the other the best
speaker in the House of Commons, differing entirely."
Mrs. Piozzi has written on the margin : " Sir William
was in the right." Two well-known couplets of Pope's
imply similar changes :
" Dreading e'en fools, by flatterers besieged,
And so obliging that he ne'er obliged."
* * *
" Imperial Anna, whom these realms obey,
Here sometimes counsel takes, and sometimes tea."
Within living memory, elderly people of quality, both
in writing and conversation, stuck to Lunnun, Brum-
magem, and Cheyny (China). Lord Byron wrote redde
(for ready in the past tense), and Lord Dudley declined
being helped to apple tart. When, therefore, we find
Mrs. Piozzi using words or idioms rejected by modern
taste or fastidiousness, we must not be too ready to ac-
cuse her of ignorance or vulgarity. I have commonly
retained her original syntax and her spelling, which
frequently varies within a page.
Two days afterwards, Walpole returns to the charge
VOL. i. N
178 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
in a letter to Miss Berry, which were alone sufficient to
prove the worthlessness of his literary judgments :
" Head * Sindbad the Sailor's Voyages,' and you will
be sick of ^neas's. What woful invention were the
nasty poultry that dunged on his dinner, and ships on
fire turned into Nereids ! A barn metamorphosed into
a cascade in a pantomime is full as sublime an effort of
genius. . . . I do not think the Sultaness's nar-
ratives very natural or very probable, but there is a
wildness in them that captivates. However, if you
could wade through two octavos of Dame Piozzi's
ihougtis and so's and I trows, and cannot listen to seven
volumes of Scheherezade's narratives, I will sue for a
divorce in foro Parnassi, and Boccalini shall be my
proctor."
A single couplet of Gifford's was more damaging
than all Walpole's petulance :
" See Thrale's grey widow, with a satchel roam,
And bring in pomp laborious nothings home."*
* " She, one evening, asked me abruptly if I did not remember
the scurrilous lines in which she had been depicted by Gifford
in his ' Baviad and Mceviad.' And, not waiting for my answer,
for I was indeed too much embarrassed to give one quickly, she
recited the verses in question, and added, ' how do you think
" Thrale's grey widow " revenged herself ? I contrived to get
myself invited to meet him at supper at a friend's house, (I think
she said in Pall Mall), soon after the publication of his poem, sate
opposite to him, saw that he was " perplexed in the extreme ; " and
smiling, proposed a glass of wine as a libation to our future good
fellowship. Gifford was sufficiently a man of the world to under-
stand me, and nothing could be more courteous and entertaining
than he waa while we remained together.' " Piozsiana.
HER TRAVELS. 179
This condemnatory verse is every way unjust. The
nothings, or somethings, which form the staple of the
book, are not laboured ; and they are presented without
the semblance of pomp or pretension. The Preface
commences thus :
" I was made to observe at Kome some vestiges of an
ancient custom very proper in those days. It was the
parading of the street by a set of people called Precise,
who went some minutes before the Flamen Dialis, to
bid the inhabitants leave work or play, and attend
wholly to the procession ; but if ill-omens prevented
the pageants from passing, or if the occasion of the
show was deemed scarce worthy its celebration, these
Precise stood a chance of being ill-treated by the spec-
tators. A prefatory introduction to a work like this
can hope little better usage from the public than they
had. It proclaims the approach of what has often
passed by before ; adorned most certainly with greater
splendour, perhaps conducted with greater regularity
and skill. Yet will I not despair of giving at least a
momentary amusement to my countrymen in general ;
while their entertainment shall serve as a vehicle for con-
veying expressions of particular kindness to those foreign
individuals, whose tenderness softened the sorrows of
absence, and who eagerly endeavoured by unmerited
attentions to supply the loss of their company, on whom
nature and habit had given me stronger claims."
The Preface concludes with the happy remark that
"the labours of the press resemble those of the toilette;
both should be attended to and finished with care ; but
N 2
180 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
once completed, should take up no more of our at-
tention, unless we are disposed at evening to destroy all
effect of our morning's study."
It would be difficult to name a book of travels in
which anecdotes, observations, and reflections are more
agreeably mingled, or one from which ,a clearer bird's-
eye view of the external state of countries visited in
rapid succession may be caught. Her sketch of the
north of France on her way to Paris, may be taken as
an example :
" CHANTILLY. Our way to this place lay through Bou-
logne ; thesituation of which is pleasing, and the fish there
excellent. I was glad to see Boulogne, though I can
scarcely tell why ; but one is always glad to see some-
thing new, and talk of something old : for example, the.
story I once heard of Miss Ashe, speaking of poor Dr.
James, who loved profligate conversation dearly, * That
man should set up his quarters across the water,' said
she ; * why Boulogne would be a seraglio to him.'
" The country, as far as Montreuil, is a coarse one ;
thin herbage in the plains and fruitless fields. The
cattle too are miserably poor and lean ; but where there
is no grass, we can scarcely expect them to be fat : they
must not feed on wheat, I suppose, and cannot digest
tobacco. Herds of swine, not flocks of sheep, meet
one's eye upon the hills; and the very few gentlemen's
seats that we have passed by, seem out of repair, and
deserted. The French do not reside much in private
houses, as the English do : but while those of narrower
fortunes flock to the country towns within their reach,
FRANCE. 181
those of ampler purses repair to Paris, where the rent
of their estate supplies them with pleasures at no very
enormous expense. The road is magnificent, like our
old-fashioned avenue in a nobleman's park, but wider,
and paved in the middle : this convenience continued
on for many hundred miles, and all at the king's ex-
pense. Every man you meet politely pulls off his hat
en passant ; and the gentlemen have commonly a good
horse under them, but certainly a dressed one.
" The sporting season is not come in yet, but I believe
the idea of sporting seldom enters any head except an
English one : here is prodigious plenty of game, but the
familiarity with which they walk about and sit by our
road-side, shows they feel no apprehensions.
" The pert vivacity of La Fille at Montreuil was all
we could find there worth remarking : it filled up my
notions of French flippancy agreeably enough ; as no
English wench would so have answered one to be sure.
She had complained of our avant-coureur's behaviour*
* II parle sur le haut ton, mademoiselle ' (said I),
* mais il a le cceur bon: ' * Ouyda ' (replied she, smartly).
' mais c'est le ton qui fait le chanson.' "
She en'ds her notice of Chantilly thus :
" The theatre belonging to the house is a lovely one ;
and the truly princely possessor, when he heard once
that an English gentleman, travelling for amusement,
had called at Chantilly too late to enjoy the diversion,
instantly, though past twelve o'clock at night, ordered
a new representation, that his curiosity might be gra-
tified. This is the same Prince of Conde, who going
N 3
182 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
from Paris to his country seat here for a month or two,
when his eldest son was nine years old, left him fifty
louis d'ors as an allowance during his absence. At his
return to town, the boy produced his purse, crying,
* Papa ! here's all the money safe ; I have never touched
it once.'' The Prince, in reply, took him gravely to the
window, and opening it, very quietly poured all the
louis d'ors into the street ; saying, ' Now, if you have
neither virtue enough to give away your money, nor
spirit enough to spend it, always do this for the future,
do you hear ; that the poor may at least have a chance
for iV "
Although the extraordinary change effected by the
French Ke volution of 1789 is an everlasting topic,
it is only on reading a book like Mercier's " Tableau
de Paris," or travels like these, that the full extent of
that change is vividly brought home to us :
" In the evening we looked at the new square called
the Palais Eoyal, whence the Due de Chartres has re-
moved a vast number of noble trees, which it was a sin
and shame to profgltie with an axe, after they had
adorned that spot forao many centuries. The people
were accordingly as angry, I believe, as Frenchmen
well can be, when the folly was first committed: the
court, however, had wit enough to convert the place
into a sort of Vauxhall, with tents, fountains, shops,
full of frippery, brilliant at once and worthless, to attract
them ; with coffee-houses surrounding it in every side ;
and now they are all again merry and happy, synony-
mous terms at Paris, though often disunited in London ;
and Vive le Due de Chartres' !
THE FRENCH. 183
" The French are really a contented race of mortals ;
precluded almost from possibility of adventure, the low
Parisian leads a gentle, humble life, nor envies that
greatness he never can obtain; but either wonders
delightedly, or diverts himself philosophically with the
sight of splendours which seldom fail to excite serious
envy in an Englishman, and sometimes occasion even
suicide, from disappointed hopes, which never could
take root in the heart of these unaspiring people. Ke-
flections of this cast are suggested to one here in every
shop, where the behaviour of the master at first sight
contradicts all that our satirists tell us of the supple
Gaul, &c. A mercer in this town shows you a few
silks, and those he scarcely opens ; vous devez choisir,
is all he thinks of saying to invite your custom ; then
takes out his snuff-box, and yawns in your face,
fatigued by your inquiries ... A Frenchman who
should make his fortune by trade to-morrow, would
be no nearer advancement in society or situation : why
then should he solicit, by arts he is too lazy to delight
in, the practice of that opulence which would afford so
slight an improvement to his comforts ? He lives as
well as he wishes already ; he goes to the Boulevards
every night, treats his wife with a glass of lemonade or
ice, and holds up his babies by turns, to hear the jokes
of Jean Pottage.
" Emulation, ambition, avarice, however, must in all
arbitrary governments be confined to the great; the
other set of mortals, for there are none there of middling
rank, live, as it should seem, like eunuchs in a seraglio;
N 4
184 LIFE AND WHITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
feel themselves irrevocably doomed to promote the
pleasure of their superiors, nor ever dream of sighing
for enjoyments from which an irremeable boundary
divides them. They see at the beginning of their lives
how that life must necessarily end, and trot with a
quiet, contented, and unaltered pace down their long,
straight, and shaded avenue ; while we, with anxious
solicitude and restless hurry, watch the quick turnings
of our serpentine walk, which still presents, either to
sight or expectation, some changes of variety in the
ever-shifting prospect, till the unthought-of, unexpected
end comes suddenly upon us, and finishes at once the
fluctuating scene."
" The contradictions one meets with every moment
likewise strike even a cursory observer, a countess in
a morning, her hair dressed, with diamonds too perhaps,
a dirty black handkerchief about her neck, and a flat
silver ring on her finger, like our ale-wives ; a femme
publique, dressed avowedly for the purposes of alluring
the men, with a not very small crucifix hanging at her
bosom ; and the Virgin Mary's sign at an ale-house
door, with these words,
" ' Je suis la mere de mon Dieu,
Et la gardienne de ce lieu.' "
A zealous editor of Pope would readily brave the
journey to Paris to pick up such an anecdote as the
following :
" I have stolen a day to visit my old acquaintance
the English Austin Nuns at the Foffee, and found the
ANECDOTE OF POPE. 185
whole community alive and cheerful ; they are many
of them agreeable women, and having seen Dr.
Johnson with me when I was last abroad, inquired
much for him : Mrs. Fermor, the Prioress, niece to
Belinda in the Eape of the Lock, taking occasion
to tell me, comically enough, * that she believed there
was but little comfort to be found in a house that
harboured poets ; for that she remembered Mr. Pope's
praise made her aunt very troublesome and conceited,
while his numberless caprices would have employed ten
servants to wait on him ; and he gave one,' (said she)
' no amends by his talk neither, for he only sate dozing
all day, when the sweet wine was out, and made his
verses chiefly in the night ; during which season he
kept himself awake by drinking coffee, which it was
one of the maids' business to make for him, and they
took it by turns.' "
At Milan she institutes a delicate inquiry:
"The women are not behind-hand in openness of
confidence and comical sincerity. We have all heard
much of Italian cicisbeism ; I had a mind to know how
matters really stood ; and took the nearest way to in-
formation by asking a mighty beautiful and apparently
artless young creature, not noble, how that affair was
managed, for there is no harm done / am sure, said I :
e Why no,' replied she, ' no great harm to be sure :
except wearisome attentions from a man one cares little
about ; for my own part,' continued she, ' I detest the
custom, as I happen to love my husband excessively,
and desire nobody's company in the world but his. We
186 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZT.
are not people of fashion though you know, nor at all
rich ; so how should we set fashions for our betters ?
They would only say, see how jealous he is ! if Mr.
Such-a-one sat much with me at home, or went with
me to the Corso ; and I must go with some gentleman
you know : and the men are such ungenerous creatures,
and have such ways with them : I want money often,
and this cavaliere servente pays the bills, and so the
connection draws closer that's all.' And your hus-
band ! said I ' Oh, why he likes to see me well dressed;
he is very good-natured, and very charming ; I love
him to my heart.' And your confessor ! cried I. * Oh !
why he is used to it'- in the Milanese dialect e
assuefaa."
At Venice, the tone was somewhat different from
what would be employed now by the finest lady on the
Grand Canal :
"This firmly-fixed idea of subordination (which I
once heard a Venetian say, he believed must exist in
heaven from one angel to another), accounts imme-
diately for a little conversation which I am now going
to relate.
" Here were two men taken up last week, one for
murdering his fellow-servant in cold blood, while the
undefended creature had the lemonade tray in his hand
going in to serve company ; the other for breaking the
new lamps lately set up with intention to light this
town in the manner of the streets at Paris. ' I hope,'
said I, ' that they will hang the murderer.' * I rather
hope,' replied a very sensible lady who sate near me,
VENICE. 187
' that they will hang the person who broke the lamps :
for,' added she, * the first committed his crime only out
of revenge, poor fellow ! ! because the other had got his
mistress from him by treachery ; but this creature has
had the impudence to break our fine new lamps, all for
the sake of spiting the Arch-duke! ! ' The Arch-duke
meantime hangs nobody at all ; but sets his prisoners
to work upon the roads, public buildings, &c., where
they labour in their chains ; and where, strange to tell !
they often insult passengers who refuse them alms
when asked as they go by ; and, stranger still, they are
not punished for it when they do." .
" I would rather, before leaving the plains of Lombardy,
give my country-women one reason for detaining them
so long there : it cannot be an uninteresting reason to
us, when we reflect that our first head-dresses were
made by Milanere ; that a court gown was early known
in England by the name of a mantua, from Manto, the
daughter of Terefias, who founded the city so called ;
and that some of the best materials for making these
mantuas is still named from the town it is manufactured
in a Padua soy."
Here is a Frenchman's reason for preferring France
to England and Italy :
" A Frenchman whom I sent for once at Bath to dress
my hair, gave me an excellent trait of his own national
character, speaking upon that subject, when he meant
to satirise ours. " You have lived some years in Eng-
land, friend,' said I ; ' do you like it ? ' ' Mais non,
madame, pas parfaitement bien.' ' You have travelled
188 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
much in Italy; do you like that better? ' * Ah, Dieu
ne plaise, Madame, je n'aime gueres messieurs les
Italiens.' * What do they do to make you hate them
so ? ' ' Mais c'est que les Italiens se tuent 1'un 1'autre '
(replied the fellow), ' et les Anglois se font un plaisir
de se tuer eux mesmes : pardi je ne me sens rien moins
qu'un vrai gout pour ces gentillesses la, et j'aimerois
mieux" me trouver a Pans, pour rire un peuS "
The lover sacrificing his reputation, his liberty, or his
life, to save the fair fame of his mistress, is not an un-
usual event in fiction, whatever it may be in real life.
Balzac, Charles de Bernard, and M. de Jarnac have
each made a self-sacrifice of this kind the basis of a
romance. But neither of them has hit upon a better
plot than might be formed out of the Venetian story
related by Mrs. Piozzi :
" Some years ago then, perhaps a hundred, one of
the many spies who ply this town by night, ran to the
state inquisitor, with information that such a nobleman
(naming him) had connections with the French am-
bassador, and went privately to his house every night at
a certain hour. The messergrando, as they call him,
could not believe, nor would proceed, without better
and stronger proof, against a man for whom he had an
intimate personal friendship, and on whose virtue he
counted with very particular reliance. Another spy
was therefore set, and brought back the same intelli-
gence, adding the description of his disguise : on which
the worthy magistrate put on his mask and bauta, and
went out himself; when his eyes confirming the report
VENETIAN ROMANCE. 189
of his informants, and the reflection on his duty stifling
all remorse, he sent publicly for Foscarini in the morn-
ing, whom the populace attended all weeping to his
door.
" Nothing but resolute denial of the crime alleged
could however be forced from the firm-minded citizen,
who, sensible of the discoveiy, prepared for that punish-
ment he knew to be inevitable, and submitted to the
fate his friend was obliged to inflict : no less than a
dungeon for life, that dungeon so horrible that I have
heard Mr. Howard was not permitted to see it.
" The people lamented, but their lamentations were
vain. The magistrate who condemned him never re-
covered the shock : but Foscarini was heard of no
more, till an old lady died forty years after in Paris,
whose last confession declared she was visited with
amorous intentions by a nobleman of Venice whose
name she never knew, while she resided there as com-
panion to the ambassadress. So was Foscarini lost ! so
died he a martyr to love, and tenderness for female
reputation ! "
The Mendicanti was a Venetian institution which
deserves to be commemorated for its singularity :
" Apropos to singing ; we were this evening carried
to a well-known conservatory called the Mendicanti,
who performed an oratorio in the church with great,
and I dare say deserved applause. It was difficult for
me to persuade myself that all the performers were
women, till, watching carefully, our eyes convinced us,
as they were but slightly grated. The sight of girls,
190 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
however, handling the double bass, and blowing into
the bassoon, did not much please me; and the deep-
toned voice of her who sung the part of Saul, seemed
an odd unnatural thing enough. What I found most
curious and pretty, was to hear Latin verses, of the old
Leonine race broken into eight and six, and sung in
rhyme by these women, as if they were airs of Metas-
tasio ; all in their dulcified pronunciation too, for the
patois runs equally throqgh every language when
spoken by a Venetian.
"Well! these pretty sirens were delighted to seize
upon us, and pressed our visit to their parlour with a
sweetness that I know not who would have resisted.
We had no such intent ; and amply did their perform-
ance repay my curiosity for visiting Venetian beauties,
so justly celebrated for their seducing manners and soft
address. They accompanied their voices with the forte-
piano, and sung a thousand buffo songs, with all that
gay voluptuousness for which their country is re-
nowned.
" The school, however, is running to ruin apace ; and
perhaps the conduct of the married women here may
contribute to make such conservatories useless and neg-
lected. When the Duchess of Montespan asked the
famous Louison D'Arquien, by way of insult, as she
pressed too near her, ' Comment alloit le metier ? '
* Depuis que les dames s'en melent? (replied the cour-
tesan with no improper spirit,) * il ne vaut plus rien.' "
Describing Florence, she says :
" Sir Horace Mann is sick and old ; but there are
FLORENCE. NAPLES. 191
conversations at his house of a Saturday evening, and
sometimes a dinner, to which we have been almost
always asked."
So much for Walpole's assertion that " she had broken
with his Horace, because he could not invite her husband
with the Italian nobility." She held her own, if she
did not take the lead, in whatever society she happened
to be thrown, and no one could have objected to Piozzi
without breaking with her. In point of fact, no one did
object to him.
One of her notes on Naples is :
" Well, well ! if the Neapolitans do bury Christians
like dogs, they make some singular compensations we
will confess, by nursing dogs like Christians. A very
veracious man informed me yester morning, that his
poor wife was half broken-hearted at hearing such a
Countess's dog was run over ; f for,' said he, * having
suckled the pretty creature herself, she loved it like
one of her children.' I bid him repeat the circumstance,
that no mistake might be made : he did so ; but seeing
me look shocked, or ashamed, or something he did
not like, * Why, Madam,' said the fellow, < it is a
common thing enough for ordinary men's wives to
suckle the lap-dogs of ladies of quality : ' adding, that
they were paid for their milk, and he saw no harm in
gratifying one's superiors. As I was disposed to see
nothing but harm in disputing with such a competitor
our conference finished soon ; but the fact is certain.
" Indeed few things can be foolisher than to debate
the propriety of customs one is not bound to observe or
192 LIFE AND WETTINGS OF MBS. PIOZZI.
comply with. If you dislike them, the remedy is easy ;
turn yours and your horses' heads the other way."
On the margin she has written :
"Mrs. Greathead could scarcely be made to credit so
hideous a fact, till I showed her the portrait (at a
broker's shop) of a woman suckling a cat"
At Vienna, she remarks :
" So different are the customs here and at Venice,
that the German ladies offer you chocolate on the same
salver with coffee, of an evening, and fill up both with
milk ; saying that you may have the latter quite black
if you choose it l Tout noir, Monsieur, a la Veni-
tienne ; " adding their best advice not to risque a
practice so unwholesome. While their care upon that
account reminds me chiefly of a friend, who lives upon
the Grand Canal, that in reply to a long panegyric upon
English delicacy, said she would tell a story that would
prove them to be nasty enough, at least in some things ;
for that she had actually seen a handsome young noble-
man, who came from London (and ought to have known
better}, souse some thick cream into the fine clear coffee
she presented him with ; which every body must confess
to be vera porcheria ! a very piggish trick I So neces-
sary and so pleasing is conformity, and so absurd and
perverse is it ever to forbear such assimilation of man-
ners, when not inconsistent with the virtue, honour, or
necessary interest : let us eat sour-crout in Germany,
frittura at Milan, macaroni at Naples, and beef-steaks
in England, if one wishes to please the inhabitants
of either country ; and all are very good, so it is a slight
GOLDSMITH. 193
compliance. Poor Dr. Goldsmith said once ' I would
advise every young fellow setting out in life to love
gravy ; ' and added, that he had formerly seen a
glutton's eldest nephew disinherited, because his uncle
never could persuade him to say he liked gravy."
Mr. Forster thinks that the concluding anecdote
conveys a false impression of one
u Who wrote like an angel, but talked like poor Poll."
"Mrs. Piozzi, in her travels, quite solemnly sets
forth that poor Dr. Goldsmith said once, ' I would ad-
vise every young fellow setting forth in life to love
gravy,' alleging for it the serious reason that ' he had
formerly seen a glutton's eldest nephew disinherited be-
cause his uncle never could persuade him to say he liked
gravy.' Imagine the dullness that would convert a jocose
saying of this kind into an unconscious utterance of
grave absurdity."* In his index may be read : " Mrs.
Piozzi's absurd instance of Goldsmith's absurdity."
Mrs. Piozzi does not quote the saying as an instance
of absurdity; nor set it forth solemnly. She repeats
it, as an apt illustration of her argument, in the same
semi-serious spirit in which it may be supposed to
have been originally hazarded. Sydney Smith took a
different view of this grave gravy question. On a young
lady's declining gravy, he exclaimed : "I have been
looking all my life for a person who disliked gravy:
let us vow eternal friendship."
* Life of Goldsmith, vol. ii. p. 205. Mr. Forster allows her the
credit of discovering the lurking irony in Goldsmith's verses on
Cumberland, vol. ii. p. 293.
VOL. I.
194 IJFE AND WHITINGS OF MES. PIOZZI.
The "British Synonymy" appeared in 1794. It was
thus assailed by Gifford :
" Though * no one better knows his own house ' than
I the vanity of this woman ; yet the idea of her under-
taking such a work had never entered my head ; and I
was thunderstruck when I first saw it announced. To
execute it with any tolerable degree of success, required
a rare combination of talents, among the least of which
may be numbered neatness of style, acuteness of per-
ception, and a more than common accuracy of discrimi-
nation ; and Mrs, Piozzi brought to the task, a jargon
long since become proverbial for its vulgarity, an utter
incapability of defining a single term in the language,
and just as much Latin from a child's Syntax, as sufficed
to expose the ignorance she so anxiously labours to con-
ceal. * If such a one be fit to write on Synonimes,
speak.' Pignotti himself laughs in his sleeve ; and his
countrymen, long since undeceived, prize the lady's
talents at their true worth,
" < Et centum Tales* curto centusse licentur.' "
* Query Thrales ? Printer's Devil.
Other critics have been more lenient or more just.
Enough philosophical knowledge and acuteness were dis-
covered in the work to originate a rumour that she had
retained some of the great lexicographer's manuscripts,
or derived a posthumous advantage from her former
intimacy with him in some shape. In "Thraliana,"
Denbigh, 2nd January, 1795, she writes:
" My f Synonimes ' have been reviewed at last. The
HER "SYNONIMES." 195
critics are all civil for ought I see, and nearly just,
except when they say that Johnson left some fragments
of a work upon Synonymy: of which God knows I
never heard till now one syllable ; never had he and I,
in all the time we lived together, any conversation upon
the subject."
Even Walpole admits that it has some marked and
peculiar merits, although its value consists rather in
the illustrative matter, than in the definition and
etymologies, e.g.
" With regard to the words upon my list (lavish, pro-
fuse, prodigal), the same Dr. Johnson with his accustomed
wisdom observed, That a young man naturally disposed
to be LAVISH ever appears beset with temptations to ex-
tend his folly, and become eminently PROFUSE, till he can
scarcely avoid ending his days a PRODIGAL, distressed on
every side in mind, body, and estate ; for while the neigh-
bours and acquaintance repress that spirit of penurious
niggardliness which now and then betrays itself in a boy
of mean education, because from that baseness indulged
no pleasure or profit can accrue to standers by they all
encourage an empty-headed lad in idle and expensive
wastefulness, from whence something may possibly drop
into every gaping mouth. I never myself heard a story
of prodigality reduced to want, yet keeping up its cha-
racter in the very hour of despair, so well authenticated
as the following, which I gained from a native of Italy.
"Two gentlemen of that country were walking leisurely
up the Hay-Market some time in the year 1749, la-
menting the fate of the famous Cuzzona, an actress who
o 2
196 LIFE AND WHITINGS OF MES. PIOZZI.
some time before had been in high vogue, but was then as
they heard in a very pitiable situation. ' Let us go and
visit her,' said one of them, * she lives but over the way.'
The other consented ; and calling at the door, they were
shown up stairs, but found the faded beauty dull and
spiritless, unable or unwilling to converse on any sub-
ject. ' How's this?' cried one of her consolers, ' are you
ill ? or is it but low spirits chains your tongue so ? '
' Neither,' replied she : ' 'tis hunger I suppose. I ate
nothing yesterday, and now 'tis past six o'clock, and
not one penny have I in the world to buy me any food.'
' Come with us instantly to a tavern ; we will treat
you with the best roast fowls and Port wine that London
can produce.' * But I will have neither my dinner nor
my place of eating it prescribed to me,' answered Cuz-
zona, in a sharper tone, * else I need never have wanted.'
* Forgive me,' cries the friend ; * do your own way ; but
eat in the name of (rod, and restore fainting nature.'
She thanked him then ; and, calling to her a friendly
wretch who inhabited the same theatre of misery, gave
him the guinea the visitor accompanied his last words
with ; e and run with this money,' said she, * to such a
wine-merchant,' (naming him); 'he is the only one
keeps good Tokay by him. 'Tis a guinea a bottle,
mind you,' to the boy ; * and bid the gentleman you
buy it of give you a loaf into the bargain, he won't
refuse.' In half an hour or less the lad returned with
the Tokay. * But where,' cries Cuzzona, ' is the loaf I
spoke for ? ' * The merchant would give me no loaf,'
replies her messenger ; * he drove me from the door, and
HER "STNONIMES." 197
asked if I took him for a baker.' ' Blockhead I ' ex-
claims she ; * why I must have bread to my wine, you
know, and I have not a penny to purchase any. Go
beg me a loaf directly.' The fellow returns once more
with one in his hand and a halfpenny, telling 'em the
gentleman threw him three, and laughed at his im-
pudence. She gave her Mercury the money, broke the
bread into a wash-hand basin which stood near, poured
the Tokay over it, and devoured the whole with eager-
ness. This was indeed a heroine in PROFUSION. Some
active well-wishers procured her a benefit after this ;
she gained about 350., 'tis said, and laid out two hun-
dred of the money instantly in a shell-cap. They wore
such things then."
When Savage got a guinea, he commonly spent it in
a tavern at a sitting ; and referring to the memorable
morning when the " Vicar of Wakefield " was pro-
duced, Johnson says : " I sent him (Goldsmith) a
guinea, and promised to come to him directly. I ac-
cordingly went as soon as I was dressed, and found that
his landlady had arrested him for his rent. I perceived
that he had already changed my guinea, and had got a
bottle of Madeira and a glass before him." Mrs.
Piozzi continues :
" But Doctor Johnson had always some story at hand
to check extravagant and wanton wastefulness. His
improviso verses made on a young heir's coming of age
are highly capable of restraining such folly, if it is to
be restrained : they never yet were printed, I believe.
o 3
198 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
" ' Long expected one-and-twenty,
Lingering year, at length is flown ;
Pride and pleasure, pomp and plenty,
Great , are now your own.
" * Loosen'd from the minor's tether,
Free to mortgage or to sell,
Wild as wind, and light as feather,
Bid the sons of thrift farewell.
" ' Call the Betseys, Kates, and Jennies,
All the names that banish care ;
LAVISH of your grandsire's guineas,
Show the spirit of an heir.
" ' All that prey on vice or folly
Joy to see their quarry fly ;
There the gamester light and jolly,
There the lender grave and sly.
" ' Wealth, my lad, was made to wander,
Let it wander as it will ;
Call the jockey, call the pander,
Bid them come and take their fill.
" ' When the bonny blade carouses,
Pockets full, and spirits high
What are acres ? what are houses ?
Only dirt or wet or dry.
" ' Should the guardian friend or mother
Tell the woes of wilful waste ;
Scorn their counsel, scorn their pother
You can hang or drown at last.' "
" RETROSPECTION." 199
These verses were addressed to Thrale's nephew, Sir
John Lade, in August, 1780. They bear a strong re-
semblance to some of Burns' in his " Beggar's Sonata,"
written in 1785 :
" What is title, what is treasure,
What is reputation's care ;
If we lead a life of pleasure,
Can it matter how or where ? "
In 1801, Mrs. Piozzi published "Retrospection; or a
Review of the Most Striking and Important Events,
Characters, Situations, and their Consequences, which
the Last Eighteen Hundred Years have presented to the
View of Mankind." It is in two volumes quarto, con-
taining rather more than 1000 pages. A fitting motto
for it would have been, De omnibus rebus et quibus-
dam aliis. The subject, or range of subjects, was
beyond her grasp ; and the best that can be said of the
book is that a good general impression of the stream of
history, lighted up with striking traits of manners and
character, may be obtained from it. It would have
required the united powers and acquirements of Raleigh,
Burke, Gibbon, and Voltaire to fill so vast a canvass
with appropriate groups and figures ; and she is more
open to blame for the ambitious conception of the work
than for her comparative failure in the execution. Some
slight misgiving is betrayed in the Preface :
" If I should have made improper choice of facts, and
if I should be found at length most to resemble Maister
Fabyan of old, who writing the Life of Henry V. lays
heaviest stress on a new weathercock set up on Stt
o 4
200 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
Paul's steeple during that eventful reign, my book
must share the fate of his, and be like that for-
gotten : reminding before its death perhaps a friend or
two of a poor man (Macbean) living in later times, that
Doctor Johnson used to tell us of; who being advised to
take subscriptions for a new Geographical Dictionary,
hastened to Bolt Court and begged advice. There having
listened carefully for half-an-hour, e Ah, but dear Sir,'
exclaimed the admiring parasite, ' if I am to make all
this eloquent ado about Athens and Kome, where shall
we find place, do you think, for Eichmond, or Aix La
Chapelle?"'
The following letter, copied from an autograph book,
relates principally to this book :
"No. 5, Henrietta Street, Bath.
15th Dec. 1802.
" A thousand thanks, dear Sir, for the very agreeable
letter which followed me here yesterday, and how good-
natured it was in you to copy over what you justly con-
ceived would give me so much pleasure.
" Our spirited young friend, my partial panegyrist,
seems likely to succeed in any walk of literature where
elegance of style and power of language are required.
Sorry am I to say, that readers of the present day find
such charms nearly superfluous. They turn over leaf
after leaf, in search of mere story, and if that possesses
some new entanglement of intrigue, or untasted spring
of sorrow, few care how the narrative is told : hence the
deluge of words, oddly coined, and forced into our
literary currency, to the no small degradation of Ian-
" RETROSPECTION." 201
guage a misfortune the reviewers contribute not to
cure.
"The * Gentleman's Magazine ' for June 1801 con-
tained my answer to such critics as confined themselves
to faults I could have helped committing had they
been faults. Those who merely told disagreeable truths
concerning my person, or dress, or age, or such stuff,
expected, of course, no reply. There are innumerable
press errors in the book, from my being obliged to print
on new year's day during an insurrection of the
printers. These the * Critical Review ' laid hold of
with an acuteness sharpened by malignity. But if
the lady who has done me so much honour by wish-
ing, however imprudently, to enter on my defence, will
confide her copy of ' Retrospection' to my care, I will
correct it very neatly for her with my own hand, and
add some notes which may contribute to her amuse-
ment.
" Mr. Piozzi says he will go back to Wales through
your town, and give me an opportunity of conversing
with you and with her a pleasure exceedingly desired
by dear Doctor Thackeray's
Ever obliged and faithful
H. L. PIOZZI.
" Receive my husband's best regards, and present
mine to my kind and charming friend."
Moore, who was staying at Bowood, sets down in
his diary for April, 1823: "Lord L. in the even-
ing, quoted a ridiculous passage from the Preface to
202 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
Mrs. Piozzi's * Retrospections,' in which, anticipating
the ultimate perfection of the human race, she says she
does not despair of the time arriving when * Vice will
take refuge in the arms of impossibility.' Mentioned
also an ode of hers to Posterity, beginning, ' Posterity,
gregarious dame,' the only meaning of which must be,
a lady cliez qwi numbers assemble a lady at home." *
Moore must have mistaken the reference ; for there
is no such passage in the Preface to " Retrospection."
As to the ode, which I have been unable to discover,
surely the term " gregarious," used in an ironical sense,
is not ill-adapted to Posterity.
" I repeated," adds Moore, " what Jekyll told the
other day of Bearcroft saying to Mrs. Piozzi, when
Thrale, after she had repeatedly call him Mr. Beer-
craft : ' Beercraft is not my name, Madam ; it may be
your trade but it is not my name.' It may always
be questioned whether this offensive description of
repartee was really uttered at the time. But Bearcroft
was capable of it. He began his cross-examination of
Mr. Vansittart by * With your leave, Sir, I will call
you Mr. Van for shortness.' * As you please, Sir, and I
will call you Mr. Bear.' "
Towards the end of 1795, Mrs. Piozzi left Streatham
for her seat in North Wales, where (1800 or 1801) she
was visited by a young nobleman, now an eminent
statesman, distinguished by his love of literature and
the fine arts, who has been good enough to recall and
write down his impressions of her for me :
* Memoirs, &c. ; vol. iv. p. 38.
HER HABITS AND SPIRITS. 203
" I did certainly know Madame Piozzi, but had no
habits of acquaintance with her, and she never lived in
London to my knowledge. When in my youth I made
a tour in Wales times when all inns were bad, and all
houses hospitable I put up for a day at her house, I
think in Denbighshire, the proper name of which was
Bryn, and to which, on the occasion of her marriage I
was told, she had recently added the name of Bella. I
remember her taking me into her bed-room to show me
the floor covered with folios, quartos, and octavos, for
consultation, and indicating the labour she had gone
through in compiling an immense volume she was then
publishing, called " Ketrospection." She was certainly
what was called, and is still called, blue, and tfcat of a
deep tint, but good humoured and lively, though af-
fected ; her husband, a quiet civil man, with his head
full of nothing but music.
" I afterwards called on her at Bath, where she chiefly
resided. I remember it was at the time Madame de
Stael's ' Delphine,' and ' Corinne,' came out *, and that
we agreed in preferring ' Delphine,' which nobody reads
now, to * Corinne,' which most people read then, and
a few do still. She rather avoided talking of Johnson.
These are trifles, not worth recording, but I have put
them down that you might not think me neglectful of
your wishes ; but now fai vuide mon sac."
Her mode of passing her time when she had ceased
writing books, with the topics which interested her,
* "Delphine" appeared in 1804; " Corinne," in 180G.
204 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MBS. PIOZZI.
will be best learnt from her letters. Her vivacity
never left her, and the elasticity of her spirits bore up
against every description of depression. Writing of
a visit to Wynnstay in January 1803, she says, 'That
she arrived like an owl in the dark, and found the
house a perfect warren of boys and girls, with their
pa's and ma's, twelve Cunliffs, five boys and five girls,
who with parent birds are most charming. Here I
staid ten days, and ten more would have killed me."
It would seem that she had adopted Dr. Johnson's
theory of dress for little women by this time, for a
lady who met her on the way describes her as " skip-
ping about like a kid, quite a figure of fun, in a tiger
skin shawl, lined with scarlet, and only five colours
upon her head-dress on the top of a flaxenwig abandeau
of blue velvet, a bit of tiger ribbon, a white beaver
hat and plume of black feathers as gay as a lark."
In a letter (dated Jan. 1799) to a Welsh neighbour,
Mrs. Piozz* says :
" Mr. Piozzi has lost considerably in purse, by the
cruel inroads of the French in Italy, and of all his
family driven from their quiet homes, has at length with
difficulty saved one little boy, who is now just turned
of five years old. We have got him here (Bath) since
I wrote last, and his uncle will take him to school next
week ; for as our John has nothing but his talents and
education to depend upon, he must be a scholar, and we
will try hard to make him a very good one.
t{ My poor little boy from Lombardy said as I walked
him across our market, 'These are sheeps' 'heads,
HER ADOPTED HEIR. 205
are they not, aunt ? I saw a basket of men's heads at
Brescia.'
" As he was by a lucky chance baptized, in com-
pliment to me, John Salusbury, five years ago, when
happier days smiled on his family, he will be known in
England by no other, and it will be forgotten he is a
foreigner. A lucky circumstance for one who is in-
tended to work his way among our islanders by talent,
diligence, and education."
She thus mentions this event in " Thraliana," Janu-
ary 17th, 1798 :
" Italy is ruined and England threatened. I have
sent for one little boy from among my husband's
nephews. He was christened John Salusbury: he shall
be naturalised, and then we will see whether he will be
more grateful and natural and comfortable than Miss
Thrales have been to the mother they have at length
driven to desperation."
She could hardly have denied her husband the satis-
faction of rescuing a single member of his family from
the wreck ; and they were bound to provide handsomely
for the child of their adoption. Whether she carried
the sentiment too far, in giving him the entire estate
(not a large one) is a very different question ; on which
she enters fearlessly in one of the fragments of the
Autobiography. In a marginal note on one of the
printed letters in which Johnson writes : " Mrs. Da-
venant says you regain your health," she remarks :
" Mrs. Davenant neither knew nor cared, as she wanted
her brother Harry Cotton to marry Lady Keith, and I
VOL. I. * O 7
206 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
offered my estate with her. Miss Thrale said she
wished to have nothing to do either with my family or
my fortune. They were all cruel and all insulting."
These fits of irritation and despondency never lasted
long.
Her mode of bringing up her adopted nephew was
more in accordance with her ultimate liberality, than
with her early intentions or professions of teaching him
to " work his way among our islanders." Instead of
suffering him to travel to and from the University by
coach, she insisted on his travelling post ; and she
remarked to the mother of a Welsh baronet, who was
similarly anxious for the comfort and dignity of her
heir, "Other people's children are baked in coarse
common pie dishes, ours in patty-pans."
Before she died she had the satisfaction of seeing
him sheriff of his county ; and on carrying up an ad-
dress in that capacity, he was knighted and became
Sir John Salusbury Piozzi Salusbury. Miss Williams
Wynn has preserved a somewhat apocryphal anecdote
of his disinterestedness :
"When I read her (Mrs. P.'s) lamentations over her
poverty, I could not help believing that Sir J. Salus-
bury had proved ungrateful to his benefactress. For
the honour of human nature I rejoice to find this is
not the case. When he made known to his aunt his
wish to marry, she promised to make over to him the
property of Brynbella. Even before the marriage was
concluded she had distressed herself by her lavish ex-
penditure at Streatham. I saw by the letters that
HER DISREGARD OF MONEY. 207
Gillow's bill amounted to near 2,400^., and Mr. (the
late Sir John) Williams tells me she had continu-
ally very large parties from London. Sir John Salus-
bury then came to her, offered to relinquish all her
promised gifts and the dearest wish of his heart, saying
he should be most grateful to her if she would only
give him a commission in the army and let him seek
his fortune. At the same time he added that he made
this offer because all was still in his power, but that
from the moment he married, she must be aware that
it would be no longer so, that he should not feel him-
self justified in bringing a wife into distress of circum-
stances, nor in entailing poverty on children unborn.*
She refused; he married; and she went on in her
course of extravagance. She had left herself a life
income only, and large as it was, no tradesman would
wait a reasonable time for payment ; she was nearly
eighty ; and they knew that at her death nothing would
be left to pay her debts, and so they seized the goods."
When Fielding, the novelist, rather boastingly avowed
that he never knew, and believed he never should
know, the difference between a shilling and sixpence,
he was told : " Yes, the time will come when you will
know it when you have only eighteen pence left." If
the author of " Tom Jones " could not be taught the
value of money, we must not be too hard on Mrs.
Piozzi for not learning it, after lesson upon lesson in
the hard school of " impecuniosity." Whilst Piozzi
* If the estate was settled in the usual manner, he would have
only a life estate ; and I believe it was so settled.
208 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
lived, her affairs were faithfully and carefully adminis-
tered. Although they built Brynbella, spent a good
deal of money on Streatham, and lived handsomely,
they never wanted money. He had a moderate fortune,
the produce of his professional labours, and left it,
neither impaired nor materially increased, to his family.
There is hardly a family of note or standing within
visiting distance of their place, that has not some tradi-
tion or reminiscence to relate concerning them ; and all
agree in describing him as a worthy good sort of man,
obliging, inoffensive, kind to the poor, principally re-
markable for his devotion to music, and utterly unable
to his dying day to familiarise himself with the Ecglish
.language or manners. It is told of him that being
required to pay a turnpike toll near the house of a
country neighbour whom he was on his way to visit, he
took it for granted that the toll went into his neigh-
bour's pocket, and proposed setting up a gate near
Brynbella with the view of levying toll in his turn.
" Amongst the company," says Moore, " was Mrs. John
Kemble. She mentioned an anecdote of Piozzi, who,
upon calling upon some old lady of quality, was told
by the servant, she was * indifferent.' 'Is she in-
deed ? ' answered Piozzi huffishly, e then pray tell her I
can be as indifferent as she ; ' and walked away."*
Till he was disabled by the gout, his principal occu-
pation was his violin, and the existing superstition of
the country is that his spirit, playing on his favourite
instrument, still haunts one wing of Brynbella. If
* Moore's Memoirs, vol. iv. p. 329.
PIOZZI. 209
he designed the building, his architectural taste does
not merit the praises she lavishes on it. The exterior is
not prepossessing ; but there is a look of comfort about
the house ; the interior is well arranged : the situa-
tion, which commands a fine and extensive view of the
upper part of the valley of the Clywd, is admirably
chosen ; the garden and grounds are well laid out ; and
the walks through the woods on either side, espe-
cially one called the Lovers' Walk, are remarkably
picturesque. Altogether, Brynbella may be fairly held
to merit the appellation of a "pretty villa." The name
implies a compliment to Piozzi's country as well as to
his taste ; for she meant it to typify the union between
Wales and Italy in his and her own proper persons.
Dr. Burney, in a letter to his daughter, thus de-
scribes the position and feelings of the couple towards
each other in 1808 :
" During my invalidity at Bath I had an unexpected
visit from your Streatham friend, of whom I had lost
sight for more than ten years. She still looks very
well, but is graver, and candour itself ; though she still
says good things, and writes admirable notes and letters,
I am told, to my granddaughters C. and M. of whom
she is very fond. We shook hands very cordially, and
avoided any allusion to our long separation and its
cause. The caro sposo still lives, but is such an object
from the gout, that the account of his sufferings made
me pity him sincerely ; he wished, she told me, ' to see
his old and worthy friend,' and un beau matin I could
not refuse compliance with his wish. She nurses him
VOL. i. p
210 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
with great affection and tenderness, never goes out or
has company when he is in pain."
Piozzi died of gout at Brynbella in March 1809, and
was buried in a vault constructed by her desire in Dry-
nierchion Church. There is a portrait of him (period
and painter unknown) still preserved amongst the family
portraits at Brynbella. It is that of a good-looking
man of about forty, in a straight-cut brown coat with
metal buttons, lace frill and ruffles, and some leaves
of music in his hand. There are also two likenesses
of Mrs. Piozzi : one a half length (kit-kat) taken
apparently when she was about forty ; the other a
miniature of her at an advanced age. Both confirm
her description of herself as being too strong-featured
to be pretty. The hands in the half length are gloved.
Brynbella continued her headquarters till 1814, when
she gave it up to Sir John Salusbury. From that period
she resided principally at Bath and Clifton, occasionally
visiting Streatham or making summer trips to the sea-
side. Her way of life after Piozzi's death may be col-
lected from the letters, with the exception of one strange
episode towards the end. When nearly eighty, she
took a fancy for an actor named Conway, who came
out on the London boards in 1813, and had the honour
of acting Komeo and Jaffier to the Juliet and Belvidera
of Miss O'Neill (Lady Becher). He also acted with
her in Dean Milman's fine play, " Fazio." But it was
his ill fate to reverse Churchill's famous lines :
"Before such merits all objections fly,
Pritchar<i's genteel, and Garrick's six feet high."
CON WAY. 211
Conway was six feet high, and a very handsome man
to boot ; but his advantages were purely physical ; not
a spark of genius animated his fine features and com-
manding figure, and he was battling for a moderate
share of provincial celebrity, when Mrs. Piozzi fell in
with him at Bath. It has been rumoured in Flintshire
that she wished to marry him, and offered Sir John
Salusbury a large sum in ready money (which she never
possessed) to give up Brynbella (which he could not
give up), that she might settle it on the new object of
her affections. But none of the letters or documents
that have fallen in my way afford even plausibility to
the rumour, and some of the testamentary papers in
which his name occurs, go far towards discrediting the
belief that her attachment ever went beyond admiration
and friendship expressed in exaggerated terms.
Conway threw himself overboard and was drowned
in a voyage from New York to Charleston in 1828.
His effects were sold at New York, and amongst
them a copy of the folio edition of Young's " Night
Thoughts," in which he had made a note of its
having been presented to him by his " dearly at-
tached friend, the celebrated Mrs. Piozzi." In the
preface to "Love Letters of Mrs. Piozzi, Written
when she was Eighty, to William Augustus Conway,"
published in London in 1842, it is stated that the
originals, seven in number, were purchased by "an
American " lady," who permitted a " gentleman " to
take copies and use them as he might think fit. What
this " gentleman" thought fit, was to publish them with
P 3
212 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
a catchpenny title and an alleged extract by way of
motto to sanction it. The genuineness of the letters is
doubtful, and the interpolation of three or four sen-
tences would alter their entire tenor. But taken as
they stand, their language is not warmer than an old
woman of vivid fancy and sensibility might have deemed
warranted by her age. I? age n'a point de sexe ; and no
one thought the worse of Madame Du Deffand for the
impassioned tone in which she addressed Horace Wai-
pole, whose dread of ridicule induced him to make a
most ungrateful return to her fondness. Years before
the formation of this acquaintance, Mrs. Piozzi had ac-
quired the difficult art of growing old ; je sais vieillir :
she dwells frequently but naturally on her age : she
contemplates the approach of death with firmness and
without self-deception ; and her elasticity of spirit never
for a moment suggests the image of an antiquated
coquette. Of the seven letters in question, the one
cited as most compromising is the sixth, in which Con-
way is exhorted to bear patiently a rebuff he had just
received from some younger beauty :
" 'Tis not a year and quarter since dear Conway,
accepting of my portrait sent to Birmingham, said to
the bringer, ( Oh if your lady but retains her friend-
ship : oh if I can but keep her patronage, I care not for
the rest.' And now, when that friendship follows you
through sickness and through sorrow; now that her
patronage is daily rising in importance : upon a lock of
hair given or refused by une petite Traitresse, hangs all
the happiness of my once high-spirited and high-blooded
CONWAY. 213
friend. Let it not be so. EXALT THT LOVE: DEJECTED
HEART and rise superior to such narrow minds. Do
not however fancy she will ever be punished in the way
you mention : no, no ; she'll wither on the thorny stem
dropping the faded and ungathered leaves : a China
rose, of no good scent or flavour false in apparent
sweetness, deceitful when depended on unlike the
flower produced in colder climates, which is sought for
in old age, preserved even after death, a lasting and an
elegant perfume, a medicine, too, for those whose
shattered nerves require astringent remedies.
" And now, dear Sir, let me request of you to love
yourself and to reflect on the necessity of not dwelling
on any particular subject too long, or too intensely. It
is really very dangerous to the health of body and soul.
Besides that our time here is but short ; a mere preface
to the great book of eternity : and 'tis scarce worthy of a
reasonable being not to keep the end of human existence
so far in view that we may tend to it either directly
or obliquely in every step. This is preaching but
remember how the sermon is written at three, four, and
five o'clock by an octogenary pen a heart (as Mrs. Lee
says) twenty-six years old: and as H. L. P. feels it to be,
ALL YOUR OWN. Suffer your dear noble self to be in some
measure benefited by the talents which are left me;
your health to be restored by soothing consolations while
/ remain here, and am able to bestow them. All is not
lost yet. You have a friend, and that friend is PIOZZI."
Con way's " high blood " was as great a recommenda-
tion to Mrs. Piozzi as his good looks, and he vindicated
P 3
214 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
his claim to noble descent by his conduct, which was
disinterested and gentlemanlike throughout.
Moore sets down in his Diary, April 28, 1819 :
" Breakfasted with the Fitzgeralds. Took me to call on
Mrs. Piozzi ; a wonderful old lady ; faces of other
times seemed to crowd over her as she sat, the John-
sons, Keynoldses, &c. &c. : though turned eighty, she
has all the quickness and intelligence of a gay young
woman."
One of the most characteristic feats or freaks of this
extraordinary woman was the celebration of her eightieth
birthday by a concert, ball, and supper, to between
six and seven hundred people, at the Kingston Kooms,
Bath, on the 27th January, 1820. At the conclusion
of the supper, her health was proposed by Admiral Sir
James Sausmarez, and drunk with three times three.
The dancing began at two, when she led off with her
adopted son, Sir John Salusbury, dancing (according
to the author of "Piozziana," an eye-witness) "with
astonishing elasticity, and with all the true air of dig-
nity which might have been expected of one of the best
bred females in society."
When fears were expressed that she had done too
much, she replied: "No: this sort of thing is greatly
in the mind ; and I am almost tempted to say the same
of growing old at all, especially as it regards those of
the usual concomitants of age, viz., laziness, defective
sight, and ill-temper."
" So far from feeling fatigued or exhausted on the
following day by her exertions," remarks Sir James
Fellowes in a note on this event, " she amused us by
HER DEATH. 215
her sallies of wit, and her jokes on ' Tully's Offices,'
of which her guests had so eagerly availed themselves."
Tully was the cook and confectioner, the Bath GKmter,
who provided the supper.
Mrs. Piozzi died in May, 1821. Her death is cir-
cumstantially communicated in the following letter :
" Hot Wells, May 5th, 1821.
"Dear Miss Will oughby, It is my painful task to
communicate to you, who have so lately been the kind
associate of dearest Mrs. Piozzi, the irreparable loss we
have all sustained in that incomparable woman and
beloved friend.
" She closed her various life about nine o'clock on
Wednesday, after an illness of ten days, with as little
suffering as could be imagined under these awful
circumstances. Her bed-side was surrounded by her
weeping daughters : Lady Keith and Mrs. Hoare arrived
in time to be fully recognized ; Miss Thrale, who was
absent from town, only just before she expired, but with
the satisfaction of seeing her breathe her last in peace.
"Nothing could behave with more tenderness and
propriety than these ladies, whose conduct, I am con-
vinced, has been much misrepresented and calumniated
by those who have only attended to one side of the
history; but may all that is past be now buried in
oblivion ! Eetrospection seldom improves our view of
any subject. Sir John Salusbury was too distant, the
close of her illness being so rapid, for us to entertain
any expectation of his arriving in time to see the dear
deceased.
P 4
216 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
" He only reached Clifton late last night. I have
not yet seen him ; my whole time has been devoted to
the afflicted ladies. To you, who so well know my de-
voted attachment to Mrs. Piozzi, it is quite superfluous
to speak of my own feelings, which I well know will
become more acute, as the present hurry of business, in
which we are all engaged, and the extreme bodily
fatigue I have undergone, producing a sort of stupor in
my mind, subsides. A scheme of rational happiness
founded on dear Mrs. Piozzi's intentions of residing at
Clifton, which I had too fondly, and perhaps foolishly,
indulged, her great age being considered, is all over-
thrown, and a sad and aching void will usurp the place ;
but Grod's will be done ! A few years more, from the
apparently extraordinary vigour of her constitution, I
had hoped to enjoy in her enchanting society; these
will now be passed in regret ; but they will also soon
pass away, and all regrets will cease with me, as with
the beloved being I must ever lament. You will pro-
bably see in the papers the last tribute I could render
her of my true regard. It is highly appreciated, and
warmly approved by her daughters, the most acceptable
praise that can reach the heart of,
" Dear Miss Willoughby's obedient humble servant,
"P. S. PENNINGTON.
"I am fatigued to death with writing, but feel a
solace in addressing you. Probably you will suppose
the accident to the leg was the cause of this sudden
catastrophe ? Not at all ; it was perfectly cured, and
the manner in which it healed, contrary to all expecta-
tion, was considered & proof a fallacious one it turned
HER WILL. 217
out of the purity and strength of her constitution.
Inflammation in the intestines, over which medicine
had no^power, was the cause of her death. The acci-
dent to the leg which, in a younger subject, might
have produced great alarm, excited none."
Mrs. Pennington* told a friend that Mrs. Piozzi's last
words were : " I die in the trust and the fear of God."
When she was attended by Sir George Gibbes, being
unable to articulate, she traced a coffin in the air with her
hands and lay calm. Her will and testamentary papers
may help to clear up some disputed points in her
biography.
The Will of Hester Lynch Piozzi, dated the 29th
day of March, 1816, makes Sir John Salusbury Piozzi
Salusbury heir to all her real and personal property
with the exception of the following bequests :
" To Sir James Fellowes Two Hundred Pounds : to
Mr. Alexander Leak One Hundred Pounds ; to his Son,
Alexander Piozzi Leak, One Hundred Pounds ; and to
my maid-servant, Elizabeth Jones, One Hundred Pounds.
" Moreover, I do hereby make it my Request to the
aforementioned Sir James Fellowes, that he will permit
me to join his name with that of the aforesaid John
Salusbury Piozzi Salusbury in the execution of these
my settled purposes, and that they will cause to be duly
paid my few debts and legacies, and that they will be
careful to commit my body (wheresover I may die) to the
vault constructed for our remains by my second husband,
Gabriel Piozzi, in Dymerchion Church, Flintshire.
* Frequently mentioned in Miss Seward's Correspondence as the
beautiful and agreeable Sophia Weston.
218 LIFE AND WHITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
" And I do hereby nominate, constitute, and appoint
the aforesaid Sir James Fellowes, and the aforesaid
John Salusbury Piozzi Salusbury, Joint Executors of
this my last Will and Testament, hereby revoking all
former Wills by me made at any time.
"(Signed) HESTER LYNCH PIOZZI.
" In the presence of &c."
"The last Will and Testament of Hester Lynch
Piozzi was this day opened by us at No. 36, Crescent,
Clifton, in the presence of Viscountess Keith, Mr. and
Mrs. Merrick Hoare, and Miss Thrale.
"JOHN SALUSBURY PIOZZI SALUSBURY,
"JAMES FELLOWES.
" Sunday, 6th May, 1821."
" Memorandum. After I had read the Will, Lady
Keith and her two sisters present, said they had long
been prepared for the contents and for such a disposition
of the property, and they acknowledged the validity of
the Will.
" JAMES FELLOWES."
" Copy of a Letter of Requests of the late Mrs. Piozzi,
dated Weston-Super-Mare, Monday, October 18th, 1819.
" My dear Friends and Executors, This is a Letter
of Requests ; not formally attested, but I should suppose
you \vould nevertheless hold it sacred; as I only forbear
making it a Codicil from a notion of disturbing a testi-
mentary disposition so favourable to Sir John Salusbury
by any awkward additions. It is then my request that
if you find a gold repeating watch in my possession,
HER WILL. 219
you send it to William Augustus Conway, Esq. for
whom I bought it ; his name inside.
" If you find a Viner's patent alarum, give it to
George Angelo Bell, for whom I bought it ; his name is
inside. My mother's portrait, by Zoffany, should go to
Lady Keith, who alone of my family can remember her ;
Mr. Thrale's picture to his daughter who still bears his
name. Sir James Fellowes has often promised me his
assistance ; I hope he will not at the last moment deny
the requests of a friend he was once so partial to. I
hope Sir John Salusbury will not consider these trifles
and my clothes to Elizabeth Bell as any sensible
diminution of what he will obtain as residuary legatee
to his affectionate aunt,
"(Signed) HESTER LYNCH PIOZZI."
Copy of a note found with the Will of the late Mrs.
Piozzi :
" Penzance, 10th October, 1820.
" My dear Gentlemen,- Feeling unwell this evening,
and full of apprehensions that I shall die before we
meet again ; I beg leave to request your care of a little
red box deposited in my hands by Mr. Conway, last
March or April ; it has his name engraved in brass upon
the top, as I received it, Miss Williams being witness :
and I wrote William Augustus Conway on the bottom,
to assure him I would keep it safe. The contents are
(as he told me) of value to him letters, papers, &c.
Pray be attentive to them, and give him his box again
untouched, as you value your own honour and that of
your poor departed friend,
"(Signed) HESTER LYNCH PIOZZI."
220 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
" Sir, As one of the Executors of my late revered
friend Mrs. Piozzi, I take the liberty of placing in your
hands the accompanying draft (for 100), which was
presented to me by that lady only two days before her
death. I am very ready to acknowledge the acceptance
of many acts of kindness during her life, but must
decline appropriating to myself what I consider a post-
humous benefaction, which more properly belongs to
her heirs. Be good enough to dispose of the same as
you may deem right.
" I have the honour to be, &c.
W. A. CONWAY.
Bath, May 7th, 1821."
" York Hotel, May 8th, 1821.
" Sir James Fellowes presents his compliments to
Mr. Conway and begs to acknowledge the receipt of his
letter of yesterday, with its enclosure.
" Sir James hopes that Mr. Conway will be assured of
his readiness to do justice to his feelings and to appre-
ciate as he ought, the handsome manner in which they
have been expressed on the loss of so sincere a friend as
the lamented Mrs. Piozzi.
" Sir James Fellowes will be under the painful ne-
cessity of returning to Clifton to-morrow, and will then
consult with Sir John Salusbury and the relatives of the
family, on the subject of Mr. Conway 's letter."
The following correspondence was also found amongst
the testamentary papers :
" 2, Upper Baker Street,
" May 23rd, 1821.
" Sin, Pwill not trouble you with apologies for this
MRS. SIDDONS. 221
intrusion by an entire stranger to you, since I am well
persuaded that I am writing to a gentleman and a
man of honour, whose feelings will not only plead my
excuse, but also advocate my request. I am informed
that the papers and letters of my inestimable and
lamented friend, Mrs. Piozzi, are deposited in your
hands, and I beg as a favour, that you will have the
goodness to return mine to me I In the full assurance
that you will kindly grant it, I have the honour to be,
Sir, your
" Most obedient servant,
" S. SIDDONS.
" Sir James Fellowes, Bart., at his house,
" near Newhury, Berkshire."
"Adbury House, near Newbury,
" May 28th, 1821.
"MADAM, I beg to acknowledge your letter dated
the 23rd, and which only reached me to-day.
" Sir John Salusbury and myself were left joint
executors, by my incomparable and lamented friend,
Mrs. Piozzi. The whole of her valuable papers are con-
signed to our care, and I hope soon to be able to
arrange them. For the present they are sealed up at
Bath, but I shall take the earliest opportunity of in-
forming Sir John, when we meet, of your request, and
I am persuaded he will be desirous of partaking with
me the pleasure of attending to any wish expressed
by Mrs. Siddons. I have the honour to be, Madam,
with great respect, your most obedient servant,
"JAMES FELLOWES.
" To Mrs. Siddons."
222 LIFE AND WHITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
One of her letters has been retained, and no one can
be hurt by its being printed.
(No date; post-mark, Paddington, April 24, 1815.)
"Mr DEAR FRIEND, You were always kind and
good to me, and I thank you most sincerely for this
last proof of your affection. My affliction is deep in-
deed, but I do not sorrow as those who have no hope.
I doubt not that Almighty wisdom and goodness orders
all things for the ultimate happiness of His servants ;
and my grief for the loss of my dear and ever dutiful
and affectionate son, is greatly alleviated in the humble
hope that his exemplary virtues will find acceptance at
the Throne of Mercy, through the mediation of our
blessed Saviour. This third stroke has nevertheless
sadly shaken me. * I cannot but remember such things
were, and were most precious to me.'
" So strange and unlocked for are all things around
us, that the only good thing we can reckon upon with
any certainty in this world, is that one is far advanced
upon one's journey to a better. I am, my dear friend,
" Your faithfully affectionate
"S. SlDDONS.
To Mrs. Piozzi, Bath."
In any endeavour to solve the difficult problem of
Mrs. Piozzi's conduct and character, it should be kept
in view that the highest testimony to her worth has
been volunteered by those with whom she passed the
last years of her life in the closest intimacy. She had
become completely reconciled to Madame D'Arblay, with
MADAME D'ARBLAY. 223
whom she was actively corresponding when she died, and
her mixed qualities of head and heart are thus summed
up in that lady's Diary, May, 1821 :
" I have lost now, just lost, my once most dear, in-
timate, and admired friend, Mrs. Thrale Piozzi, who
preserved her fine faculties, her imagination, her in-
telligence, her powers of allusion and citation, her ex-
traordinary memory, and her almost unexampled viva-
city, to the last of her existence. She was in her eighty-
second year, and yet owed not her death to age nor to
natural decay, but to the effects of a fall in a journey
from Penzance to Clifton. On her eightieth birthday
she gave a great ball, concert, and supper, in the public
rooms at Bath, to upwards of two hundred persons, and
the ball she opened herself. She was, in truth, a most
wonderful character for talents and eccentricity, for wit,
genius, generosity, spirit, and powers of entertainment.
" She had a great deal both of good and not good, in
common with Madame de Stael Holstein. They had
the same sort of highly superior intellect, the same
depth of learning, the same general acquaintance with
science, the same ardent love of literature, the same
thirst for universal knowledge, and the same buoyant
animal spirits, such as neither sickness, sorrow, nor even
terror, could subdue. Their conversation was equally
luminous, from the sources of their own fertile minds,
and from their splendid acquisitions from the works and
acquirements of others. Both were zealous to serve,
liberal to bestow, and graceful to oblige ; and both were
truly high-minded in prizing and praising whatever was
224 LIFE AND WHITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
admirable that came in their way. Neither of them
was delicate nor polished, though each was flattering
and caressing ; but both had a fund inexhaustible of
good humour, and of sportive gaiety, that made their
intercourse with those they wished to please attractive,
instructive, and delightful ; and though not either of
them had the smallest real malevolence in their com-
positions, neither of them could ever withstand the
pleasure of uttering a repartee, let it wound whom it
might, even though each would serve the very person
they goaded with all the means in their power. Both
were kind, charitable, and munificent, and therefore be-
loved ; both were sarcastic, careless, and daring, and
therefore feared. The morality of Madame de Stael was
by far the most faulty, but so was the society to which
she belonged ; so were the general manners of those by
whom she was encircled."
There is one real point of similarity between Madame
de Stael and Mrs. Piozzi, which has been omitted in the
parallel. Both were treated much in the same manner
by the amiable, sensitive, and unsophisticated Fanny
Burney. In Feb. 1793, she wrote to her father, then
at Paris, to announce her intimacy with a small
"colony" of distinguished emigrants settled at Eich-
mond, the cynosure of which was the far-famed daugh-
ter of Necker. He writes to caution her on the strength
of a suspicious liaison with M. de Narbonne. She re-
plies by declaring her belief that the charge is a gross
calumny. " Indeed, I think you could not spend a day
with them and not see that their commerce is that of
COMPABED TO MADAME DE STAEL. 225
pure, but exalted and most elegant friendship. I
would, nevertheless, give the world to avoid being a
guest under their roof, now that I have heard even the
shadow of such a rumour."
If Mr. Croker was right *, she was then in her forty-
second year ; at all events, no tender, timid, delicate
maiden, ready to start at a hint or semblance of im-
propriety ; and she waived her scruples without hesita-
tion when they stood in the way of her intercourse with
M. D'Arblay, to whom she was married in July 1793,
he being then employed in transcribing Madame de
Stael's Essay on the Influence of the Passions.
As to the proposed parallel, with all due deference to
Madame D'Arblay's proved sagacity aided by her per-
sonal knowledge of her two gifted friends, it may be
suggested that they presented fewer points of resem-
blance than any two women of at all corresponding
celebrity. The superiority in the highest qualities of
mind will be awarded without hesitation to the French
woman, although M. Thiers terms her writings the per-
fection of mediocrity. She grappled successfully with
some of the weightiest and subtlest questions of social
and political science ; in criticism, she displayed powers
which Schlegel might have envied while he aided their
fullest development in her " Germany ; " and her
" Corinne " ranks amongst the best of those works of
* 1 have heard that an elder daughter of Dr. Burner, w-ho
died before the birth of the authoress, was also christened
Frances, and that it was the register of her baptism to which Mr.
Croker triumphantly appealed.
VOL. I. Q
226 LIFE AND WHITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
fiction which excel in description, reflection, and senti-
ment, rather than in pathos, fancy, stirring incident or
artfully contrived plot. But her tone of mind was so
essentially and notoriously masculine, that when she
asked Talleyrand whether he had read her " Del-
phine," he answered, " Non, Madame, mais on m'a dit
que nous y sommes tous les deux deguises en femrnes." *
This was a material drawback on her agreeability ; in a
moment of excited consciousness, she exclaimed, that
she would give all her fame for the power of fasci-
nating ; and there was no lack of bitterness in her cele-
brated repartee to the man who, seated between her
and Madame Recamier, boasted of being between Wit
and Beauty, " Oui, et sans posseder ni 1'un ni l'autre."f
The view from Richmond Park she called " calme et
animee, ce qu'on doit etre, et que je ne suis pas."
In London she was soon voted a bore by the wits and
people of fashion. She thought of convincing whilst they
thought of dining. Sheridan and Brummell delighted
in mystifying her. Byron complained that she was
* " To understand the point of this answer," says Mr. Mackin-
tosh, " it must be known that an old countess is introduced in the
novel full of cunning, finessing, and trick, who was intended to
represent Talleyrand, and Delphine was intended for herself."
Life of Sir James Mackintosh, vol. ii. p. 453.
f This mot is given to Talleyrand in Lady Holland's Life of
Sydney Smith. But it-may he traced to one mentioned by Hannah
More in 1787, as then current in Paris. One of the notables fresh
from his province was teased by two petits maitres to tell them who
he was. " Eh bien done, le voici : je suis ni sot ni fat, mais je suis
entre les deux." Memoirs of Hannah More, vol. ii. p. 57.
HER CHARACTER. 227
always talking of himself or herself*, and concludes his
account of a dinner-party by the remark : " But we
got up too soon after the women ; and Mrs. Corinne
always lingers so long after dinner, that we wish her
in the drawing-room." In another place he says : " I
saw Curran presented to Madame de Stael at Mackin-
tosh's ; it was the grand confluence between the Ehone
and the Saone, and they were both so d d ugly that
I could not help wondering how the best intellects of
France and England could have taken up respectively
such residences." He afterwards qualifies this opinion :
" Her figure was not bad ; her legs tolerable ; her arms
good : altogether I can conceive her having been a de-
sirable woman, allowing a little imagination for her soul,
and so forth. She would have made a great man."
This is just what Mrs. Piozzi never would have made.
Her mind, despite her masculine acquirements, was
thoroughly feminine : she had more tact than genius,
more sensibility and quickness of perception than depth,
comprehensiveness, or continuity of thought. But her
very discursiveness prevented her from becoming weari-
some : her varied knowledge supplied an inexhaustible
store of topics and illustrations; her lively fancy placed
them in attractive lights ; and her mind has been well
likened to a kaleidoscope which, whenever its glittering
and heterogeneous contents are moved or shaken, sur-
prises by some new combination of colour or of form.
* Johnson told Boswell : " You have only two topics, yourself
and myself, and I am heartily sick of both."
Q 2
228 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
She professed to write as she talked ; but her conver-
sation was doubtless better than her books : her main
advantages being a well-stored memory, fertility of
images, aptness of allusion, and apropos.
In the course of his famous definition or description
of wit, Barrow says : " Sometimes it lieth in pat allusion
to a known story, or in seasonable application of a
trivial saying: sometimes it playeth in words and
phrases, taking advantage from the ambiguity of their
sense or the affinity of their sound." If this be so,
she possessed it in abundance. In a letter, dated Bath,
26th April, 1818, about the time when Talleyrand said
of Lady F. S.'s robe : " Elle commence trop tard etfinit
trop tot" she writes :
" A genteel young clergyman, in our Upper Crescent,
told his mamma about ten days ago, that he had lost
his heart to pretty Miss Prideaux, and that he must
absolutely marry her or die. La chere mere of
course replied gravely : ' My dear, you have not -been
acquainted with the lady above a fortnight : let me re-
commend you to see more of her.' * More of her ! '
exclaimed the lad, ' why I have seen down to the fifth
rib on each side already.' This story will serve to con-
vince Captain T. Fellowes and yourself, that as you
have always acknowledged the British Belles to exceed
those of every other nation, you may now say with
truth, that they outstrip them."
On the 1st July, 1818 :
" The heat has certainly exhausted my faculties, and
I have but just life enough left to laugh at the fourteen
HER CHARACTER. 229
tailors who, united under a flag with 'Liberty and
Independence ' on it, went to vote for some of these
gay fellows; I forget which, but the motto is ill chosen,
said I, they should have written up, ' Measures not
Men: "
Her piety was genuine ; and old-fashioned politicians,
whose watchword is Church and King, will be delighted
with her politics. Literary men, considering how many
curious inquiries depend upon her accuracy, will be
more anxious about her truthfulness, and I have had
ample opportunities of testing it ; having not only been
led to compare her statements with those of others, but
to collate her own statements of the same transactions
or circumstances at distant intervals or to different
persons. It is difficult to keep up a large correspon-
dence without frequent repetition. Sir Walter Scott
used to write precisely the same things to three or four
fine-lady friends, and Mrs. Piozzi could no more be
expected to find a fresh budget of news or gossip for
each epistle than the author of " Waverley." Thus, in
1815, she writes to a Welch baronet from Bath:
" We have had a fine Dr. Holland here.* He has seen
and written about the Ionian Islands ; and means now
to practise as a physician, exchanging the Cycladeg, say
we wits and wags, for the Sick Ladies. We made quite
a lion of the man. I was invited to every house he
* Sir Henry Holland, Bart, who, with many other titles to
distinction, is one of the most active and enterprising of modern
travellers.
230 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MRS. PIOZZI.
visited at for the last three days ; so I got the Queue
du lion despairing of le Coeur."
Two other letters written about the same time con-
tain the same piece of intelligence and the same joke.
She was very fond of writing marginal notes ; and after
annotating one copy of a book, would take up another
and do the same.* I have rarely detected a substantial
variation in her narratives, even in those which were
more or less dictated by pique ; and as she constantly
drew upon the " Thraliana " for her materials, this,
having been carefully and calmly compiled, affords an
additional guarantee for her accuracy.
She sometimes gives anecdotes about authors. Thus,
in the letter just quoted, she says: "Lord Byron protests
his wife was a fortune without money, a belle without
beauty, and a blue-stocking without either wit or learn-
ing." But her literary information grew scanty as she
grew old; and her opinions of the rising authors are
principally valuable as indications of the obstacles
which nascent reputations must overcome. "Pindar's
line remark respecting the different effects of music
on different characters, holds equally true of genius :
so many as are not delighted by it, are disturbed,
perplexed, irritated. The beholder either recognises
it as a projected form of his own being, that moves
before him with a glory round its head, or recoils
from it as a spectre." f The octogenarian critic of the
* A copy of Boswell's Life of Johnson, annotated by her like
Dr. Wellesley's, is in the possession of Mr. Bohn, the eminent
publisher.
t Coleridge, " Aida to Reflections."
HER CHARACTER. 231
Johnsonian school recoils from "Frankenstein" as from
an incarnation of the Evil Spirit : she does not know
what to make of the " Tales of My Landlord;" and she
inquires of an Irish acquaintance whether she retained
recollection enough of her own country to be enter-
tained with " that strange caricature, Castle Rack Rent."
Contemporary judgments such as these (not more extra-
vagant than Horace Walpole's) are to the historian of
literature what fossil remains are to the geologist.
Although perhaps no biographical sketch was ever
executed, as a labour of love, without an occasional
attack of what Lord Macaulay calls the Lues Boswel-
liana or fever of admiration, I hope it is unneces-
sary for me to say that I am not setting up Mrs. Piozzi
as a model letter- writer, or an eminent author, or a pat-
tern of the domestic virtues, or a fitting object of hero
or heroine worship in any capacity. All I venture to
maintain is, that her life and character, if only for the
sake of the " associate forms," deserve to be vindicated
against unjust reproach, and that she has written many
things which are worth snatching from oblivion or pre
serving from decay.
AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIRS
AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIRS.
" THH circumstances," says Sir James Fellowes, " under
which she was induced to write them, were purely
accidental. During the last fifty years of her life, she
had made a collection of pocket-books, in which it was
her constant practice to write down her conversations
and anecdotes, as well as her remarks upon the recent
publications. They were tied together and carefully
preserved ; and on one occasion Mrs. Piozzi, pointing to
them, observed to me : ( These you will one day have to
look over with Salusbury (my co-executor), together
with the ' Thraliana ; ' I have never had courage to
open them, but to your honour and joint care I shall
leave them.' These memoranda would no doubt form
a literary curiosity. At the time the conversation took
place at Bath on this interesting topic, I urged Mrs,
Piozzi to write down some reminiscences of her own
times, and some of those amusing anecdotes I had
heard her relate, and which have never been published,
adding to my request, the value they would be to
posterity and the obligation conferred upon myself. It
236 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIRS.
was her nature to be grateful for any trifling act of
kindness, and as I had the good fortune to possess her
friendship and favourable opinion, she indulged my
curiosity to learn her history by presenting me with
this sketch of her life (oh, she wrote expressly for me),
as the strongest proof (she observed) of her confidence
and esteem. These are the facts connected with the
' Autobiographical Memoirs.' "
The author of " Piozziana " says : " I called on her
one day, and at an early hour by her desire ; when she
showed me a heap of what are termed pocket-books,
and said she was sorely embarrassed upon a point, upon
which she condescended to say she would take my
advice. ' You see in that collection,' she continued, * a
diary of mine of more than fifty years of my life. I
have scarcely omitted anything which occurred to me
during the time I have mentioned. My books contain
the conversation "of every person of almost every class
with whom I have had intercourse ; my remarks on what
was said ; downright facts and scandalous on dits ; per-
sonal portraits and anecdotes of the characters con-
cerned ; criticisms on the publications and authors of
the day, &c. Now I am approaching the grave, and
am agitated by doubts as to what I should do whether
to burn my manuscripts or leave them to futurity.
Thus far my decision is to destroy my papers. Shall I
or shall I not ? ' I took the freedom of saying, ' By no
means do an act which done cannot be amended ; keep
your papers safe from prying eyes, and at least trust
them to the discretion of survivors.' "
THRALIANA. 237
The heap of pocket-books must have been a very
large heap, for a diary so kept would require at least
one a-week. " Thraliana," now in the possession of
the Eev. Gr. A. Salusbury (the eldest son of Sir John
Salusbury), is contained in six books, of about 300 pages
each, and extends over thirty-two years and a half. The
first entry is in these words : " It is many years since
Doctor Samuel Johnson advised me to get a little book
and write in it all the little anecdotes which might come
to my knowledge, all the observations I might make or
hear, all the verses never likely to be published, and, in
fine, everything that struck me at the time. Mr. Thrale
has now treated me with a repository, and provided it
with the pompous title of ' Thraliana.' I must en-
deavour to fill it with nonsense new and old. 15th
September, 1776." The last: "30th March, 1809.
Everything most dreaded has ensued. . . . All is
over, and my second husband's death is the last thing
recorded in my first husband's present. Cruel Death ! "
233 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIRS.
HER STORY OF HER LIFE.
I HEARD it asserted once in a mixt company that few
men of ever so good a family could recollect, imme-
diately on being challenged, the maiden names of their
four great-grandmothers : they were not Welsh men.
My father's two grandames were Bridget Percival,
daughter to a then Lord Egmont, and Mary Pennant
of Downing, great aunt to the great naturalist. My
mother claimed Hester Salusbury, heiress of Lleweney
Hall, as one of her grandmothers by marriage with
Sir Eobert Cotton ; Vere Herbert, only daughter of
Lord Torington, was the other.
The Salusbury pedigree is, indeed, perpetually re-
ferred to by Pennant in the course of his numerous
volumes. It begins, I remember, with Adam de Saltzs-
burg, son to Alexander, Duke and Prince of Bavaria,
who came to England with the Conqueror, and in 1070
had obtained for his valour a faire house in Lancashire,
still known by name of Salisbury Court. I showed an
abstract of it to the Heralds in office at Saltzbourg, when
there ; and they acknowledged me a true descendant of
their house, offering me all possible honours, to the
triumphant delight of dear Piozzi, for whose amuse-
ment alone I pulled out the schedule. You will find a
HER DESCENT. 239
modest allusion to the circumstance in page 283 of the
Travel Book, 2nd vol.*
Among my immediate ancestors, third, fourth, or
fifth, I forget which, from this Father Adam, was Henry
Salusbury surnamed the Black; who having taken
three noble Saracens with his own hand in the first
Crusade, Cceur de Lion knighted him on the field, and
to the old Bavarian Lion (see " Ketrospection," p. 116)
which adorned his shield, added three crescents for coat
armour. On his return the king permitted him to settle,
where he married in Wales. He built Llewenney
Hall, naming it Llew, the Lion, and an ny, for us ;
and set a brazen one upon its highest tower.
Among our popular Cambrian ballads, is one to the
honour of this hero ; still known to the harpers by
name of Black Sir Harry. The civil wars of York and
Lancaster called into public notice an immediate descen-
dant of this warrior. His name, which also was Heni*y,
stood recorded on a little obelisk, or rather cippus, by
the road-side at Barnet, where the great battle was
fought ; so long, that I remember my father taking me
out of the carriage to read it when I was quite a child.
* " There is a Benedictine convent seated on the top of a hill
above the town (Salzbourg), under which lie its founders and pro-
tectors, the old dukes of Bavaria, which they are happy to shew
travellers, with the registered account of their young prince Adam,
who came over to our island with William, and gained a settle-
ment. They were pleased when I observed to them that his
blood was not yet wholly extinct amongst us." Observations and
Reflections, $c. This quotation is added by the Editor, and all
notes and references, not expressly mentioned as by others, are by
him.
240 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIRS.
He had shewn mercy to an enemy on that occasion, who
looking on his device or imprese, flung himself at his
feet with these words :
Sat est prostrasse Leoni.
Our family have used that Leggenda as motto to the
coat armour ever since.*
I guess not why this man was a Yorkist. The other
party was natural to the inhabitants of North Wales,
where the proud Duke of Somerset had married a
daughter of his to the son of Owen Tudor by the
Princess Katherine of France ; another of whose sons,
Fychan Tudor de Beraine, married his son to Jasper
the Earl of Pembroke's daughter.! These were imme-
diate parents to the father of Katherine de Berayne by
Constance d'Aubigne, Dame d'Honneur to Anne de Bre-
tagne. She brought him this one only child, an heiress,
who was ward to Queen Elizabeth, and in her fifteenth
year married, with her Majesty's consent, to Sir John
Salusbury f , of Llewenney Hall, eldest of fourteen child-
ren. After his demise fair Katherine gave her hand
to Sir Eichard Clough, the splendid merchant, men-
tioned in a note to " Eetrospection," J whose daughter
inherited Bachygraig, and married Eoger Salusbury,
youngest brother of Sir John, first husband to her mo-
ther. He quarrelling with the House of Lleweney,
tore down the Lion and set it on his wife's seat called
* See "British Synonymy," vol. ii. p. 218. Mrs. P.
f See " Retrospection," vol. i. p. 446. Mrs. P.
t Vol. ii. p. 155.
DESCENT. 241
Bachygraig, where it stood, newly gilt by Mr. Piozzi,
two years ago (1813).
My father was lineally descended from this pair, and
died possessed of dear old Bachygraig, while Sir John
Salisbury's family soon finished in a daughter Hester,
who, marrying Sir Eobert Cotton of Combermere, gave
him, and all her progeny by him, the name of Salusbury
Cotton. She was immediate grandame to my dear
mother ; and thus in your little friend the two families
remain united.
Will it amuse you to be told that Katherine de
Berayne, after Sir Richard Clough's death, married
Maurice Wynne, of Gwydir, whose family and fortune
merged in that of the Berties ? He was not, however,
her last husband. She wedded Thelwall, of Plasyward,
after she was quite an old woman. But the Berayne
estate she left to my mother's great-grandfather, as heir
to her first husband, Sir John Salusbury of Lleweney.
My uncle sold it to Lord Kirkwall's father.*
But it will bring matters nearer home to tell you
that my mother, who had 10,0001., an excellent fortune
in those days, besides an annuity for her mamma's life
of 1251. per annum, who was living gaily with her
brother, Sir Robert Salusbury Cotton, and his wife,
Lady Betty Tollemache, refused all suitors attracted by
* Lord Kirkwall sold the property to the Rev. Edward Hughes,
whose son, William Lewis Hughes, the present possessor, was
created Baron Dinorben, in 1831, of Kinmel Park, Denbighshire.
The house was burnt down in 1840. Sir J. F. Lord Dinorben
was succeeded in his estates by his nephew, Hugh Robert Hughes,
Esq.
VOL. I. B
242 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIRS.
her merits and beauty for love of her rakish cousin,
John Salusbury of Bachygraig. He, unchecked by
care of a father who died during the infancy of his
sons, ran out the estate completely to nothing. So
completely that the 10,000. would scarcely pay debts
and furnish them out a cottage in Caernarvonshire,
where after two or three dead things I was born
alive, and where they were forced by circumstances to
remain, till my grandmother Lucy Salusbury an ex-
emplary creature should die, and leave them free at
least to mortgage or to sell, or to do something towards
reinstating themselves in a less unbecoming situation.
Meanwhile / was their joint plaything, and although
education was a word then unknown as applied to
females, they had taught me to read and speak and
think and translate from the French, till I was half a
prodigy; and my father's brother Thomas, who was
bred up for the ecclesiastical courts with poor papa's
money, and who lived in London among the gay and
great, said how his friends the Duke of Leeds, Lord
Halifax, &c., would be delighted could they but
see little Hester. My mother, however, thought it
would be best to conciliate her own relations, and
made me, I know not at how early an age, write a
letter to my uncle Eobert who had lately lost Lady
Betty. The scheme prospered : grandmamma Salusbury
of Bachygraig was dead, and Sir Eobert Salusbury
Cotton said he longed to kiss his sister and the little
girl ; to whom he was perhaps more willing to attach
himself, as he had no progeny, and his only brother had
ANECDOTES OF CHILDHOOD. 243
married, not much to please him,, a portionless cousin
of his own ; Miss Cotton, of Etwall and Belleport, by
whom he had many children, among which two only
were favourites at Lleweney. An invitation followed,
and we came to the Old Hall hung round with ar-
mour, which struck my infant eyes with wonder and
delight.
My uncle soon began to dote on Fiddle, as he called
me in fondness ; and I certainly did not obtain his love
by flattery, as I remember well this odd tte-a-tete con-
versation :
" Come now, dear," said he, " that we are quite alone,
tell me what you expected to see here at Llewenney."
"I expected," replied I, "to see an old baronet."
"Well, in that your expectation is not much disap-
pointed ; but why did you think of such stuff? " " Why
just because papa and mamma was always saying to me
and to one another at Bodvel, what the old baronet
would think of this and that : they did it to frighten
me I see now ; but I thought to myself that kings and
princes were but men, and God made them you know,
Sir, and they made old baronets." "Incomparable
Fiddle," exclaimed my uncle " you will see a Mr. and
Mrs. Clough at dinner to-day: do you know how to
spell Clough ?" " No," was the reply ; " I never heard
the name ; but if it had been spelt like buf, you would
not have asked me the question. They write it perhaps
as we write enough c, 1, o, u, g, h."
What baby anecdotes are these, you cry. Tis so,
but your poor friend certainly ceased being in any
K 2
244 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIRS.
wise a wonder after she was five years old, at which period
we left Wales and came to my uncle's house in Albe-
marle Street, where he told my mother he should follow
in less than two months ; make a new will, and leave poor
Fiddle 10,000., having understood that my parents had
by their marriage settlement agreed to entail the old
Bachygraig Estate on Thomas Salusbury, brother to
papa, and then a doctor in the Commons ; and on his
sons, rather than their own daughter, if they had no
male heir. I fancy some rough words passed concerning
this. My uncle certainly but ill brooked my father's
pride, and he still less willingly endured being informed
that, if his quality friends would provide him some dis-
tant establishment, my mother and myself should share
the old baronet's fortune. " No, no, Sir Robert," was
the haughty answer, " if I go for a soldier, your sister
shall carry the knapsack, and the little wench may have
what I can work for." I have heard that our parting
soon followed this conversation, and scarce were my
infantine tears dried for leaving dear Llewenney and my
half-adored uncle, before the news reached London of
his sudden death by an apoplectic fit ; in consequence
of which, his brother, Sir Lynch Salusbury Cotton, came
into everything by a temporary will kept in case of
accidents till one more copious .and correct should be
formed.
Some traces yet remain upon my mind of poor
mamma's anguish and of my father's violent expres-
sions. jShe has related to me his desperate engagement
with some quacks and projectors who pretended to find
ANECDOTES OF CHILDHOOD. 245
lead on his encumbered estate, whilst ^ve remained in
town, and I became a favourite with the Duke and
Duchess of Leeds, where I recollect often meeting the
famous actor Mr. Quin, who taught me to speak
Satan's speech to the sun in " Paradise Lost." When
they took me to see him act Cato, I remember making
him a formal courtesy, much to the Duchess's amuse-
ment, perhaps to that of the player. I was just six
years old, and we sate in the stage-box, where I kept
on studying the part with all my little power, not at all.
distracted by the lights or company, which they fancied
would take my attention. The fireworks for the peace
of Aix-la-Chapelle were the next sights rny fancy was
impressed with. We sate on a terrace belonging to the
Hills of Tern now Lord Berwick's family, and David
Garrick was there, and made me sit on his lap, feeding
me with cates, &c. ; because, having asked some one
who sate near why they called those things that blew
up, Oerbes in the bill of fare, ^ answered, " Because they
are like wheat-sheaves, you see, and Gerbe is a wheat-
sheaf in French."
When Garrick was intimate at Streatham Park more
than twenty years afterwards, he did not like that story :
it made him look older, at least feel older, than, he
wished, I suppose.
Lord Halifax was now, or soon after, head of the
Board of Trade, and wished to immortalise his name
he had no sons by colonising Nova Scotia. Corn-
wallis and my father, whom he patronised, were sent out,
the first persons in every sense of the word; and poor
B 3
246 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIRS.
dear mamma was left sine pane (almost, I believe), cer-
tainly sine nummo, with her odd little charge, a girl
without a guinea, whose mind however she ceased not to
cultivate in every possible manner. For French, writing,
and arithmetic, I had no instructor but herself; and
when she went from home where I could not be
taken, my temporary abode was the great school in
Queen Square, where Mrs. Dennis and her brother, the
Admiral Sir Peter Dennis, said I was qualified, at eight
years old, for teacher rather than learner ; and he
actually did instruct me in the rudiments of navigation,
as the globes were already familiar to me. The small-
pox, however, and measles interrupted my studies for
awhile, when my Grandmother Cotton invited my
mother and myself to spend a summer in Hertfordshire
and Bedfordshire, where she had a fine country-seat
called East Hyde, not far from Luton, to which I made
reference in " Eetrospection " (vol. ii. p. 434). This
lady, daughter to Sir Thomas Lynch, after whom I was
named, had possessed an immense fortune in Jamaica;
but being left an orphan at five years old, was, as she
always said and I believe, purchased of Lord Torington,
her mother's brother, by Sir Eobert Salusbury Cotton
for his son Thomas, the child he educated himself in
the Tower of London, when confined there on account
of his correspondence with the Electress Sophia.*
* Sir William Wraxall, in his Historical Memoirs (vol. i. p.
304), in reference to the adventures of the Stuart family, relates
an extraordinary anecdote about the destroying of the correspon-
dence of the Electress Sophia with the Court of St. Germains.
CHILDHOOD. 247
Certain it is that Lady Cotton was scarce fifteen
years older than her own eldest son, my dear Uncle
Robert, husband of Lady Betty Tollemache ; which she
considered as little to the honour of her father-in-law,
who, she believed, obtained her fortune to his family by
any means he could.
She had made a second choice when left a widow at
thirty-seven years old, with many children, all mortally
offended at her marrying again ; but Captain King was
dead, and they were reconciled at the time I am speaking
of. At East Hyde I learned to love horses; and
when my mother hoped I was gaining health by the
fresh air, I was kicking my heels on a corn binn, and
learning to drive of the old coachman ; who, like every
" It ought not to surprise us (he says) on full consideration that
Sophia should feel the warmest attachment to James the Second.'*
On this Mrs. Piozzi remarks in the margin : "It surprises me
because my own great-grandfather was put into the Tower for
corresponding with the Electress, by James the Second ; and, being
permitted to have any one of his family with him, chose a little
boy, whom he taught to read and write there. My great-grand-
mother used to walk on Tower Hill till she saw her husband's
signal poked out of some grated window. She was, by birth,
Hester Salusbury, of Llewenney, and married to Sir Robert
Cotton, of Combermere. I have seen, when a child, some of the
Electress's letters signed Sophia. I remember nothing of them,
but my uncle said they were full of Latin quotations : his son,
father to Lord Combermere, burned them. I have looked in
Lord Orford's miscellaneous works, and perceive that he and my
friend Wraxall are of a mind about Sophia, of whose letters I
can recollect only the odd signature, writing her name with a
long f; but my cousin was a strange fellow, to throw them into
the fire."
B 4
248 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIRS.
body else small and great, delighted in taking me for a
pupil. Grandmamma kept four great ramping war-
horses, chevaux entiers, for her carriage, with immense
long manes and tails, which we buckled and combed ;
and when, after long practice, I showed her and my
mother how two of them (poor Colonel and Peacock)
would lick my hand for a lump of sugar or fine white
bread, much were they amazed ; much more when my
skill in guiding them round the court-yard on the break
could no longer be doubted or denied, though strictly
prohibited for the future.
Among our Hertfordshire neighbours was Sir Henry
Penrice, Judge of the Admiralty, who by the heiress of
that branch of the Spencer family had only one daughter,
the all-accomplished Anna Maria, who sought my
mother's friendship the more eagerly, as she felt her
heart daily more and more attached to my father's
brother, Doctor Thomas Salusbury, of the Commons.
My resemblance to my papa's whole family fixed me a
favourite. My mother thought herself ill-used by them,
and so in fact she was ; her husband having left his
brother a power of attorney to do everything for him,
and he neglecting all mamma's entreaties, having forbore
to change the hands of a mortgage upon that portion of
the Welsh estate appointed for her jointure. Worse
than that: my mother had scraped up, by dint of
miserable privations, money for the purpose ; but Uncle
Thomas neglected his absent brother's interest, and the
estate was lost. Love was, however, his apology ; and
a faint hope, perhaps, that so immense a fortune as that
EDUCATION. 249
of Miss Penrice might in some wise and on some future
day benefit her child, hushed all mamma's complaints.
The lovers married. Sir Henry died, and was succeeded
by his son-in-law, both in his place, his title, and his
estate.
My father had meanwhile, I fear, behaved perversely,
quarrelling and fighting duels, and fretting his friends
at home. My mother and my uncle, taking advan-
tage of his last gloomy letter, begged him to return
and share the gaieties of Offley Place, mentioned in
" Retrospection," vol. i. p. 213 : likewise, if I remember
rightly, in the Travel Book (vol. ii.), where I recollect
the plains of Kalin reminding me of our dear airings
upon Lily Hoo, the common near our house, joining
to that of Offley, scenes I shall see no more !
Here I reigned long, a fondled favourite. Kind
Lady Salusbury felt her health decline, but told her
husband she should die more happily, persuaded that
he would not marry, as he was so attached to the good
girl she now considered as her own, having nearly lost
her precious life by a severe miscarriage. She, however,
lived with him nine years, and said it were pity I should
not learn Latin, Italian, and even Spanish, in all which
she was conversant. Study was my delight, and such a
patroness would have made stones students.
The Lisbon earthquake had impressed her strongly ;
and my mother, who was particularly fond of Spanish
literature, made me translate a sermon in that language,
written and preached in the Jewish synagogue at Lon-
don by Isaac Netto, whose name is all I can bring back
250 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIRS.
to mind, and dedicate it to my dear aunt, Anna Maria
Salusbury. A set of pearl and garnet ornaments, which I
gave afterwards to Lady Keith, was my shining recom-
pense ; but such was my father's conduct, she never did
love him. My mother she respected, and dear Doctor
Collier, a'constant guest, did all he could to keep us all
happy in one another. Felicity, in this world, however,
lasts not long. Poor Lady Salusbury died, at forty-one
years old, of dropsy in the breast, and uncle saidhe had
no kindness but for me. I think / did share his fond-
ness with his stud ; our stable was the first for hunters
of enormous value, for racers, too ; and our house,
after my aunt's death, was even haunted by young men
who made court to the niece, and expressed admiration
of the horses. Every suitor was made to understand my
extraordinary value. Those who could read, were shown
my verses ; those who could not, were judges of my
prowess in the field. It was my sport to mimic some,
and drive others back, in order to make Dr. Collier
laugh, who did not perhaps wish to see me give a heart
away which he held completely in his hand, since he
kindly became my preceptor in Latin, logic, rhetoric,
&c.
We began, I think, before I was thirteen years old.
On the day I was sixteen he confessed sixty-four, I
remember, and said he was just four times my age, so
I suppose he was. The difference or agreement never
crossed my mind, nor seemed to have crossed his. A
friendship more tender, or more unpolluted by interest
or by vanity, never existed ; love had no place at all in
APPEARANCE OF TIIRALE. 251
the connection, nor had he any rival but my motJier.
Their influence was of the same kind, and hers the
strongest ; but it was not till after poor papa's death
that I observed she looked on Collier with a jealous eye.
We were scarce all of us enough to manage with my
father's red-hot temper. It was daily endangering our
alienation of Sir Thomas Salusbury's fondness, which
the arrival of a new neighbour put still more to hazard.
We should have made home more agreeable.
My uncle would not then have run to the smiling
widow of Wellbury just at our Park gate the
Honourable Mrs. King, whose blandishments drew him
from dear Offley, and made our removal to our London
House less painful. The summer before this removal
had produced to me a new vexation. Lord Halifax
was become lieutenant of Ireland, and my father made
one of his numerous escort, delighting to attend his
patron through his own country, and show him the
wonders of Wales. Mamma and I remained at Offley
doing the honours. Doctor Collier was in London upon
business. My uncle had been to town for a night or
two, and returned to tell us what an excellent, what an
incomparable young man he had seen, who was, in short,
a model of perfection, ending his panegyric by saying
that he was a real sportsman. Seeing me disposed to
laugh, he looked very grave ; said he expected us to like
him, and that seriously. The next day Mr. Thrale fol-
lowed his eulogist, and applied himself so diligently to
gain my mother's attention aye, and her heart, too,-
that there was little doubt of her approving the pre-
252 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MEM01ES.
tensions of so very showy a suitor if suitor he was to
me, who certainly had not a common share in the
compliments he paid to my mother's wit, beauty, and
elegance.
His father, he said, was born in our village at Offley,
of mean parents, but had made a prodigious fortune by
his merits ; and the people all looked with admiration
at his giving 5s. to a poor boy who lay on the bank,
because he was sure his father had been such a boy.
In a week's time the country catched the notion up that
Miss Salusbury's husband had been suddenly found by
meeting Sir Thomas at the house of Mr. Levinz, a well-
known bon vivant of those days, they were not then
called amphitryons, who kept a gay house and a gay
lady at Brompton, where he entertained the gay fashion-
ists of 1760. The chaplain of Offley Place, a distant
relation of ours, uncle I think to this Sir Robert
Salusbury whom you met once in Park Street (Bath),
having undisclosed hopes of his own to get the heiress,
not only took alarm, but cunningly conveyed that alarm
to my father, who, when he came home, said he saw his
girl already half disposed of without his own consent,
and swore I should not be exchanged for a barrel of
porter, &c.
Vain were all my assurances that nothing resembled
love less than Mr. Thrale's behaviour : vain my pro-
mises that no step on my part should be taken with-
out his concurrence ; although I clearly understood,
and wrote Dr. Collier word so, that my uncle made
this marriage the condition of his favour quite ap-
UNCLE'S MARRIAGE. 253
parently, and that certain ruin would follow my re-
jection. The letter, perhaps, still exists in which I
declared iny resolution to adhere to the maxims of filial
duty he had taught me, and refuse (when I should be
asked) any offer, however tempting, that should seek to
seduce me from his authority under which both myself
and my mother were placed. By this time the brothers
quarrelled and met no more. My father took us to
London. My uncle solaced himself with visiting the
widow ; and after a miserable winter, which visits from
Mr. Thrale to my mother rendered terrifying to me
every day, from papa's violence of temper, a note
came, sent in a sly manner, from Dr. Collier, to tell me
(it was written in Latin) that Sir Thomas would certainly
marry Mrs. King the Sunday following, and begged I
would not say a syllable till the next day, when he
would come and break the dreadful tidings to my
father.
My countenance, however, showed, or his acuteness
discovered, something he did not like ; an accusation
followed, that. I received clandestine letters from Mr.
Thrale, a circumstance I had certainly every just reason
to deny, and felt extremely hurt, of course, at seeing
myself disbelieved. After a fruitless and painful contest
for many hours of this cruel evening, my spirits sunk, I
faulted, and my father, gaining possession of the fatal
billet, had to ask my pardon poor unhappy soul !
and in this fond misery spent we the hours till four
o'clock in the morning. At nine we rose ; he to go
across the park in search of my maternal uncle, Sir
254 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIRS.
Lynch Salusbury Cotton, from whom, and from Dr.
Crane, Prebendary of Westminster, he meant to seek
counsel and comfort. Me, to the employment of calling
our medical friend, Herbert Lawrence, to dinner by a
billet of earnest request. All of us were ill, but by
the time he came, my father died, and was brought us
home a corpse, before the dining hour. This was De-
cember 1762, fifty-three years ago exactly. Yet are
not my feelings blunted !
The Will gave to my mother his Bachygraig House
and estate for life, charged with 5000?. for me ; to which
my uncle, in consideration perhaps of my poor father's
having paid every expense of his education at Cam-
bridge, perhaps in recollection of having lost him a farm
of 100Z. a-year, added 5000?. more ; with which (and
expectations of course) Mr. Thrale deigned to accept
my undesired hand, and in ten months from my poor
father's death, were both the marriages he feared ac-
complished.
My uncle went himself with me to church, gave me
away, dined with us at Streatham Park, returned to
Hertfordshire, wedded the widow, and then scarce ever
saw or wrote to either of us ; leaving me to conciliate
as I could, a husband who was indeed much kinder than
I counted on, to a plain girl, who had not one attrac-
tion in his eyes, and on whom he never had thrown
five minutes of his time away, in any interview unwit-
nessed by company, even till after our wedding-day
was done !
My mother staid with us, however, so did her niece,
KESIDEXCE AND SOCIETY. 255
Miss Hester Salusbury Cotton, now Lady Corbet. Mr.
Murphy was introduced, and the facetious Greorgey
Bodens, as the men called him. Lord Carhampton's
father, Simon Luttrell, afterwards known to all the
town by the emphatic title " King of Hell," * besides
a very sickly old physician, who seemed as if living
with us, Dr. Fitzpatrick, a Eoman Catholic ; the rest
were professed Infidels.
When winter came, however, I was carried to my
town residence, Deadman's Place, Southwark ; which
house, no more than that in Surrey, had been seen by
me till called on to inhabit it. Here, too, my mother
quitted us, and lived at our old mansion in Dean Street,
Soho, then no unfashionable part of the world, and
thither I went oh how willingly ! to visit her every day.
My husband's sisters f (who, like himself, were eminent
for personal beauty) now called on me, looked at
me, and in modern phrase, seemed to quiz me, asking
how I liked Dr. Fitzpatrick, their brother's Jesuit
friend ? I answered drily, that the Doctor was well-
read and well-bred, apparently in extreme ill health
(he was a physician), and that Mr. Thrale's friends must
necessarily be mine. The ladies withdrew, disap-
pointed, and I tried with all diligence to canvass the
* It was told of him that he challenged hia son, the Colonel
Luttrell (afterwards Earl of Carhampton) of Middlesex election
celebrity, who refused to fight him, " not because he was his
father, but because he was not a gentleman."
f Mrs. Rice, Mrs. Nesbitt (afterwards Mrs. Scott), and Lady
Lade.
256 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIRS.
man whom they thought, and of course / thought, had
so much influence ; where if I gained none I must be-
come a nuisance. The doctor had no more influence
than myself; but being so much about them all, could
at least tell me les tracasseries de famille of which I
was wholly ignorant. From him in due time I learned
what had determined my husband's choice to me, till
then a standing wonder. He had, the doctor said,
asked several women, naming them, but all except me
refused to live in the Borough, to which, and to his
business, he observed, that Mr. Thrale was as unac-
countably attached now as he had been in his father's
time averse from both. And oh ! cried the old man,
how would my deceased friend have delighted in this
happy sight ! alluding to my state of pregnancy.
So summer came again, and Streatham Park was
improving, and autumn came, and Lady Keith came,
and I became of a little more importance. Confidence
was no word in our vocabulary, and I tormented myself
to guess who possessed that of Mr. Thrale ; not his
clerks certainly, who scarce dared approach him much
less come near me ; whose place he said was either in
the drawing-room or the bed-chamber. We kept,
meantime, a famous pack of fox-hounds, at a hunting
box near Croydon ; but it was masculine for ladies to
ride, &c. We kept the finest table possible at Streat-
ham Park, but his wife was not to think of the kitchen.
So I never knew what was for dinner till I saw it.
Driven thus on literature as my sole resource, no
wonder if I loved my books and children. From a
TIIRALE'S IMPRUDENCE. 257
gay life my mother held me fast. Those pleasures Mr.
Thrale enjoyed alone; with me indeed they never
would have suited ; I was too often and too long con-
fined. Although Doctor Johnson (now introduced
among us) told me once, before her face, who deeply
did resent it, that I lived like my husband's kept mis-
tress, shut from the world, its pleasures, or its cares.
The scene was soon to change. Fox-hounds were
sold, and a seat in Parliament was suggested by our
new inmate as more suitable to his dignity, more
desirable in every respect. I grew useful now, almost
necessary; wrote the advertisements, looked to the
treats, and people to whom I was till then unknown,
admired how happy Mr. Thrale must be in such a
wonder of a wife.
I wondered all the while where his heart lay ; but it
was found at last, too soon for joy, too late almost for
sorrow. A vulgar fellow, by name Humphrey Jackson,
had, as the clerks informed me, all in a breath, com-
pleat possession of it. He had long practised on poor
Thrale's credulity, till, by mixing two cold liquors which
produced heat perhaps, or two colourless liquors which
produced brilliancy, he had at length prevailed on him
to think he could produce beer too, without the beg-
garly elements of malt and hops. He had persuaded
him to build a copper somewhere in East Smithfield,
the very metal of which cost 2000L, wherein this Jack-
son was to make experiments and conjure some curious
stuff, which should preserve ships' bottoms from the
worm ; gaining from Government money to defray
VOL. I. s
258 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIKS.
these mad expenses. Twenty enormous vats, holding
1000 hogsheads each costly contents! Ten more
holding 1000 barrels each, were constructed to stew
in this pernicious mess ; and afterwards erected, on I
forget how much ground bought for the ruinous pur-
pose.
That all were spoiled, was but a secondary sor-
row. We had, in the commercial phrase, no beer to
start for customers. We had no money to purchase
with. Our clerks, insulted long, rebelled and ratted,
but I held them in. A sudden run menaced the house,
and death hovered over the head of its principal. I think
some faint image of the distress appears in Doctor
Johnson's forty-eighth letter, 1st. vol. But (rod tempers
every evil with some good. Such was my charming
mother's firmness, and such her fond attachment to us
both, that our philosophical friend, embracing her, ex-
claimed, that he was equally charmed by her conduct,
and edified by her piety. " Fear not the menaces of
suicide," said he ; " the man who has two such females
to console him, never yet killed himself, and will not
now. Of all the bankrupts made this dreadful year,"
continued he, "none have destroyed themselves but
married men ; who would have risen from the weeds
undrowned, had not the women clung about and sunk
them, stifling the voice of reason with their cries." Ah,
Sir James Fellowes, and have not I too been in a ship
on fire *, not for two hours, but for two full weeks, be-
* Alluding to the fire on board an East Indiaman, in which
Sir James Fellowes was passenger.
PECUNIARY DIFFICULTIES. 259
tween the knowledge of my danger and the end
on't?
Well ! first we made free with our mother's money,
her little savings ! about 30001. 'twas all she had ; and,
big as I was with child, I drove down to Brighthelm-
stone, to beg of Mr. Scrase 60001. more he gave it
us and Perkins, the head clerk, had never done re-
peating my short letter to our master, which only said,
" I have done my errand, and you soon shall see re-
turned, whole, as I hope your heavy but faithful
messenger, H. L. T."
Perkins' sons are now in possession of the place,
their father but lately dead. Dear Mr. Scrase was an
old gouty solicitor, retired from business, friend and
contemporary of my husband's father. Mr. Eush lent
us 6000., Lady Lade 50001. our debts, including
those of Humphrey Jackson, were 130,000., besides
borrowed money. Yet in nine years was every shil-
ling paid ; one, if not two elections well contested ; and
we might, at Mr. Thrale's death, have had money, had
he been willing to listen to advice, as you will see by
our correspondence, which it is now time for you to
begin, and be released from these scenes of calamity.
The baby that I carried lived an hour my mother a
year ; but she left our minds more easy. I lay awake
twelve nights and days, I remember, 'spite of all art
could do ; but here I am, vexing your tired ear with
past afflictions.
You will see that many letters were suppressed. But
as you have probably thought more of my literary, than
s 2
260 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIRS.
of tny moral or social existence, though I hope not,
it will be right at least to say that it was during the
winters of those happy years when I reigned Queen at
Offley Place all summer, that Hogarth made me sit for
his fine picture of the Lady's Last Stake, now in pos-
session of Lord Charlemont.
It was then, too, when I was about thirteen, fourteen,
and fifteen years old, that I took a fancy to write in the
" St. James's Chronicle," unknown to my parents and
my tutor too : it was my sport to see them reading,
studying, blaming or praising their own little whim-
sical girl's performances ; but such was their admiration
of one little verse thing, that I could not forbear
owning it, and am sorry that no copy has, I believe,
been kept.
The little poetical trash I did write in earnest,
is preserved somewhere, perhaps in " Thraliana,"
which I promised to Mrs. Mostyn ; perhaps in a
small repository I prepared for dear Salusbury, before
our final parting : such I meant it to be ; but have
no guess how you will find the stuff, or whether he ever
thought it worth his while to keep old aunt's school ex-
ercises such he would probably and naturally consider
them. There is a little poem called " Offley Park " I
know ; another " On my poor Aunt Anna Maria's favou-
rite Ash Tree ;" and one styled " The Old Hunter's
Petition for Life," written to save dear Forester from
being shot because grown superannuated. There is a
little odd metaphysical toy beside, written to divert
Poctor Collier after the death of his dog Pompey, for
DR. COLLIER. 261
whom James Harris made a Greek epitaph, of which
this is the English meaning, as I remember ; but no
doubt all is lost, and these verses are not mine. I
forget whose though :
" Here what remains of Pompey lies,
Handsome, generous, faithful, wise.
Then shouldst thou, friend, possess a bitch
In nature's noble gifts as rich ;
"When Death shall take her, let her have
With Pompey here one common grave ;
So from their mingled dust shall rise
A race of dogs as good and wise :
Dogs who disease shall never know,
Rheumatic ache or gouty toe j
Nor feel the dire effects of tea,
Nor show decay by cachexy.
For if aright the future Fates I read,
Immortal are the dogs their pregnant dust shall breed."
The great James Harris was no disdainer of trifles.
He wrote the two comical dialogues at the end of " David
Simple," an old novel composed by Doctor Collier's
sister, who was dead before I knew him, in conjunction
with Sally Fielding, whose brother w r as author of " Tom
Jones," not yet obsolete. James Harris gave me his
" Hermes " interleaved, that I might write my remarks
on it, proving my attention to philosophical grammar,
for which study I had shown him signs of capacity, I
trust ; but Collier would not suffer him to talk meta-
physics in my hearing, unless he himself was the re-
spondent. Oh what conversations ! What correspon-
dences were these ! never renewed after my wedding
day, October llth, 1763. Dr. Johnson was perhaps
s s
262 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIRS.
justly offended if I even appeared to recollect them, and
in my mother's presence. There was no danger. They
had never fallen in Mr. Thrale's way of course.
But you make me an egotist, and force me to re-
member scenes and ideas I never dreamed of communi-
cating. The less so, because finding my fortune of late
circumscribed in a manner wholly new to me, no doubt
remained of all celebrity following my lost power of
entertaining company, giving parties, &c. ; and my
heart prepared to shut itself quite up, convinced there
existed not a human creature who cared one atom for
poor H. L. P. now she had no longer money to be robbed
of. That disinterested kindness does exist, however, my
treatment here at Bath evinces daily, and in six months
will come if things do but continue in their natural
course my restoration day. Meanwhile this odd pre-
fatory collection of Biographical Anecdotes are at your
service. The Essays I wrote when quite a girl almost
a child must all be lost undoubtedly. The following
Allegory is just as good as I could make it now, bating
the grand fault of representing Imagination as a female
character. This is glanced at in 221 and 222 of " British
Synonymy," vol. i. ; but I did myself injustice in
calling it a translation, for such it really is not, or
deserving to be called so
IMAGINATION. 263
IMAGINATION'S SEARCH AFTER HAPPINESS, AN ALLEGORICAL
TALE. BY H. L. SALISBURY, 1760.
STRUCK with his charms whom all admire,
Whose beauties colder bosoms fire,
Imagination ventured forth
In search of Happiness her lover ;
Nor fear'd the frowns of wit or worth,
No blame could on her choice be thrown,
When once the object's name was known.
To Love's gay temple first she flies,
And darts around her piercing eyes,
And is my hero here ? she cries ;
Perhaps he may, the god replies ;
But freely search our groves around,
Nor think yourself confin'd ;
His name our echoes all resound,
Perhaps his form you'll find.
The Nymph was pleas'd, her search renew'd ;
Thro' each soft maze her love pursued,
Till as she ran with rapid force
Fair Delicacy check'd her course.
I never thought to see you here,
Without a veil too ! Fye, my dear :
To seek your sweetheart ! and is this
A likely seat for sober bliss ?
Believe my words and quick recede,
No Happiness lives here Indeed.
8 4
2t)4 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIBS.
Imagination stood corrected,
Then swiftly from her presence flew ;
And soon her wand'ring steps directed
T' Ambition's palace now in view.
Fix'd on a rock of steep ascent
The glittering fabric stood :
The way was slippery as she went
And wet with human blood.
Her lover's form on high was plac'd
To tempt her steps along :
But when the phantom she embrac'd,
It vanish 'd and was gone.
From hence with trembling haste she fled,
And to the realms of Riches sped :
Consumptive care, and dropsied pride,
And tinsel'd splendour here she spied ;
Nor ought was wanting more or less,
Save what she sought for Happiness.
What has our heroine next to do ?
Her journey she began to rue,
For why ? No places now remain
To try her fortune in 'tis plain :
And yet this foolish luckless love
Would let her have no rest :
Tho' 'gainst it all she could she strove,
Still would it flutter in her breast.
Whilst thus she thought and would have spoke,
Sudden a voice the silence broke :
IMAGINATION. 265
Come to my cot, despairing maid I
'Tis mine alone to give you aid :
Come to my cot and live with me,
In unreproved pleasures free.
Young Health that seeks the morning air,
With Temperance at her side, are there ;
Meek Peace that loves the hermitage,
And Contemplation hoary sage ;
With me long time have deign 'd to dwell,
And dignified my mossy cell.
If you such company can bear,
And will awhile inhabit there ;
Nor more your search renew ;
Your lover will no longer fly :
'Tis his to curb when we deny,
And fly when we pursue.
Imagination found her wise,
Nor scorn'd to own herself to blame,
But took fair Piety's advice
Uncall'd the Lover came.
The article in " British Synonymy," before referred
to, runs thus :
"FANCY, IMAGINATION.
" ' Fancy, whose delusions vain
Sport themselves with human brain,
Rival thou of nature's pow'r !
Canst from thy exhaustless store
266 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIES.
Bid a tide of sorrow flow,
And whelm the soul in deepest woe,
Or in the twinkling of an eye
Raise it to inirth and jollity.
Dreams and shadows by thee stand,
Taught to rim at thy command,
And along the wanton air
Flit like empty gossamer.
MEEEICK.'
" These elegant and airy substantives are not, as one
might suspect, wholly synonymous. A well-instructed
foreigner will soon discover that, though in poetry, there
seems little distinction, yet when they both come to be
talked of in a conversation circle, we do say that Milton
has displayed a boundless imagination in his poem of
* Paradise Lost,' transporting us, as it were, into the
very depths of eternity, while he describes the journey of
Satan and the games of the fallen angels; but that
Pope's * Rape of the Lock' is a work of exquisite fancy,
almost emulative of Shakspeare's creative powers, not
servilely imitating him. An intelligent stranger will
observe, too, that although we give sex very arbitrarily
to personified qualities, yet he will commonly find
Fancy feminine, Imagination masculine, I scarce know
why. But
" f Save in this shadowy nook, this green resort,
Imagination holds his aiiy court,
Bright Fancy fans him with her painted wings,
And to his sight her varying pleasures brings.'
" The French do not stick to this rule : an allegorical
tale of Mademoiselle Barnard begins thus :
IMAGINATION. 267
" ' L'imagination araante du bonheur,
Sans cesse le desire, et sans cesse le rappelle, &c.'
" Our translator, following the original design, by
making Imagination feminine, has spoiled the effect of
the poem. It is likewise observable that, speaking
physically, these words are by no means synonymous,
nor can be used each for other without manifest im-
propriety."
268 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIRS.
INTRODUCTION TO PIOZZL
[THE following fragments of autobiography (with one
exception) are in the shape of notes to the printed
volumes of correspondence between Dr. Johnson and
herself. I print them as they occur, with the portions
of the correspondence which respectively suggested
them.
This history of her acquaintance with Piozzi is de-
tailed in a note on the passage (quoted ante, p. 104)
from one of Johnson's letters, in which he congratulates
her on having " got Piozzi again."]
Dr. Johnson, mentioning dear Piozzi, has encouraged
me to tell how and where our acquaintance began. I
was at Brighthelm stone in August 1780, or thereabout,
when the rioters at Bath had driven my sick husband
and myself and Miss Thrale (Fanny Burney went home
to her father) into Sussex for change of place. I had been
in the sea early one morning, and was walking with my
eldest daughter on the cliff, when, seeing Mr. Piozzi
stand at the library door, I accosted him in Italian, and
asked him if he would like to give that lady a lesson or
two whilst at Brighton, that she might not be losing her
time. He replied, coldly, that he was come thither
himself merely to recover his voice, which he feared was
INTRODUCTION TO PIOZZI. 269
wholly lost ; that he was composing some music, and
lived in great retirement ; so I took my leave, and we
continued our walk, Miss Thrale regretting she had lost
such an opportunity; but on our returning home the
same day, Mr. Piozzi started out of the shop, begged my
pardon for not knowing me before, protested his readi-
ness to do anything to oblige me, and his concern for
not being able to contribute to our amusement, but that
I should command everything in his now limited power.
We parted, and at breakfast the post brought me a
letter from the present Madame D'Arblaye, saying that
her father's friend, Mr. Piozzi, was gone to Brighthelm-
stone, where she hoped we should meet, for though he
had lost his voice, his musical powers were enchanting,
and that I should find him a companion likely to
lighten the burden of life to me, as he -was just a man
to my natural taste. This letter is existing now, and
that was her expression. Mr. Thrale found his per-
formance on the forte-piano so superior to everything
then heard in England, and in short took such a fancy
to his society, that we were seldom apart, except
while Mr. Piozzi was studying to compose the six fine
sonatas, that he dedicated to his favourite pupil, Miss
Child, afterwards Lady Westmoreland. His voice
strengthened by sea-bathing, but never recovered the
astonishing powers he brought with him first from Italy.
I fancied they would have returned when we went
abroad together four years after, but they never did ;
and he was contented in future to delight, without sur-
prising, his hearers, unless they had indeed taste
270 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIRS.
enough, to understand that unrivalled manner of sing-
ing, which he as tenor, and Pacchierotti as soprano,
had completely to themselves.
Mr. Piozzi was the son of a gentleman of Brescia in
Lombardy, who meant him for the Church and educated
him accordingly; but he resisted the celibat, escaped
from those who would have made him take the vows,
and as his uncle said, " Ah, Gabrieli, thou wilt never get
nearer the altar than the organ-loft," so it proved. He
ran from the Venetian state to Milan, where Marchese
D'Araciel proved his constant friend and protector, and
encouraged him in his fancy for trying Paris and London,
instead of being a burden to his parents, who had four-
teen children, a limited income, and many pecuniary
uneasinesses. Whilst here, his fame reached the Queen
of France, who sent for him and Sacchini, the great
opera composer, and it was when they came back loaded
with presents, and honours, and emoluments, that Dr.
Johnson congratulated me on having got Piozzi again.
Sacchini returned and died at Paris, but Piozzi staid
(till I drove him from me), notwithstanding all the
offers of the Court of France, when I was living at
Bath, " deserted, spiritless, afflicted, fallen."
271
DOMESTIC TRIALS.
HER letter written in Passion Week, 1783 ("Letters,"
vol. ii. p. 253) was in answer to one from Dr. Johnson,
dwelling on his own ailments exclusively and complain-
ing of neglect. He says : " You can hardly think how
bad I have been whilst you were in all your altitudes
at the opera, and all the fine places, and thinking little
of me." She replies : " My health, my children,
and my fortune, dear Sir, are fast coming to an end, I
think not so my sorrows. Harriet is dead, and Cicely
is dying."
Her manuscript commentary on these passages is :
" Dear Harriet died of measles, hooping-cough, and
strumous swellings in the neck and throat, 1783. Lucy
had fallen a sacrifice to the same train of evils ; and
Cecilia, now Mrs. Mostyn, had her health so shaken
after the date of this letter, that it was with the utmost
difficulty she recovered. Mr. Piozzi and I had made
what we considered as our final parting in London about
a month before, when I requested him to tame the
newspapers by quitting England, and leave me to endure
my debts, my distractions, and the bitter reproaches of
my family as / could. He had given up all my letters,
promises, &c., into Miss Thrale's hands (now Lady
Keith). You laughed when I told you that his ex-
pression was : * Take it to you your mamma, and make
it of her a countess ; it shall kill me, I know, but it
272 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIRS.
shall kill her too.' Miss Thrale took the papers, and
turned her back on him, I remember. Well ! Sir Lucas
Pepys alone knew the true state of my heart. He pitied
me, kept my secret inviolable, behaved like a brother
to me, and told all the inquirers that I was very ill
indeed, and that he had advised Bath.
" To Bath I went, and Piozzi prepared for his melan-
choly journey, having first lent me a thousand pounds,
for which I remitted the interest to Italy, and our ladies
said I had bought him off with their money : so the
calumny outlived even our separation. He had not left
London when I was summoned to attend the two little
girls at Mrs. Kay's school, Eussel House, Streatham ; but
I refused another painful interview, however earnestly
my lover begged it. I breakfasted with Sir Lucas Pepys:
told him my heroism, and never knew till Piozzi told me
after he returned to England, that he had been sitting
at a front window of some public-house on the road all
that dreadful Saturday, to see my carriage pass back-
wards and forwards to where the children resided. Oh
what moments ! oh what moments ! but I went back to
Bath. We lived in Russel Street, where I found my
three eldest daughters at their work and their drawings.
I thinJc they scarcely said ' How d'ye do ? or how does
Cecilia do ? ' and we went on together without either
rough words or smooth ones. Dr. Staker, to whom
Pepys had recommended the care of my health, cut his
own throat, and Doctors Woodward (of the pretty house
in Gay Street) and Dobson, from Liverpool, were our
medical advisers.
AN UNEXPECTED FRIEND. 273
" Doctor Johnson never came to look for me at
Streatham, where I lodged during Cecy's danger ; and
I would not go into London for fear of encountering
Piozzi's eyes somewhere. So I only stopped at Pepys'
house for an hour, close to Hyde Park, and away to
Bath again, where one curious thing befell me, and but
one. You have heard of many severities shown me,
now hear of one man like yourself. My maid came to
me half-alarmed, half-pleasant somehow, and said : * I
have had a king's messenger sent to me, Madam ; but
here's the letter, and the man is gone again. I offered
him money, but he had orders to take none.'
" The letter said : -
" ' MADAM, Let nothing add to your present pain, as
no one surely deserves so much happiness. Your letter
is gone safe ; I transmitted the amiable contents to
Mr. Piozzi, who will receive it in due time ; but you
should be careful not to send another packet unpaid
for, unless you would direct it to me. Your signing no
name, and dating, forced me to peruse every word of a
letter in three languages which no one could so have
written but Mrs. Thrale, to whom I wish all that such
merit and virtue, &c. &c. &c.
" ' JACKSON,
" ' Comptroller of the Foreign Post Office.
" He had directed the letter to my maid !
" We left our cards with this gentleman as soon as
we were married, of course, and he made us a fine
VOL. I. T
274 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIRS.
dinner and a grand entertainment, and I saw for the
first time my kind friend and admirer, Mr. Jackson.
Poor fellow ! he soon died, but not till Mr. Piozzi had
sung with his daughter, and given him all the pleasure
he was capable of receiving in the last stage of life,
and a miserable state of health."
275
SECOND MARRIAGE.
IN Dr. Johnson's last letter to her (ante, p. 113), he
says : " Prevail on Mr. Piozzi to settle in England." In
reference to this advice she writes :
Dr. Johnson's advice corresponded exactly with Mr.
Piozzi's intentions. He was impatient to show Italy to
me and me to the Italians, but never meant to forbear
bringing his wife home again, and showing he had
brought her. Well aware of the bustle his marriage
made, it was his most earnest wish that every doubt of
his honour and of my happiness should be dispelled ; so
that whilst our ladies and Madame D'Arblaye, that was
Miss Burney, and Baretti, and all the low Italians of
the Haymarket who hated my husband, were hatching
stories how he had sold my jointure, had shut me up in
a convent, &c., we made our journey to our residence
in Italy as showy as we possibly could. All the English
at every town partook of our hospitality ; the inhabitants
came flocking, nothing loth, and we sent presents to
our beautiful daughters by every hand that would carry
them. Miss Thrale was of age by now, and I left Miss
Nicholson, the bishop's grand-daughter, whom they
appeared to like exceedingly, with them, but she soon
quitted her post on observing that they gave people to
understand she was a cast mistress of dear Piozzi, who
never saw her face out of their company, except once at
a dinner visit.
T 2
276 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIRS.
But I have not told you our parting. That I resided
at Bath, these letters are a proof; that my residence
was a wretched one, needs no asserting. Insults
at home, and spiteful expressions in every letter from
the guardians, broke my spirits quite down ; and letters
from my grieving lover, when they did come, helped to
render my life miserable. I meant not to call him
home till all my debts were paid ; and my uncle's widow,
Lady Salusbury, had threatened to seize upon my Welsh
estate if I did not repay her money, lent by Sir Thomas
Salusbury to my father; money in effect which poor
papa had borrowed to give him when he was a student
at Cambridge, and your little friend just born. This
debt, however, not having been cancelled, stood against
me as heiress. I had been forced to borrow from the
ladies ; and Mr. Crutchley, when I signed my mortgage
to them for 7000^., said: "Now, Madam, call your
daughters in and thank them ; make them your best
curtsey" (with a sneer) " for keeping you out of a gaol."
He added 5001. or 8001. more, and I paid that off as
alluded to * ; but Doctor Johnson knew how I was
distressed, and you see how even he had been writing ! !
Will you wonder to hear how ill I was ? After much
silent suffering, Doctor Dobson, who felt for me even to
tears, left me one evening in the slipper bath, and I
suppose ran to Lady Keith, and spoke with some se-
* Dr. Johnson wrote to Mrs. Thrale, London, April 19th, 1784 :
" I am sensible of the ease that your repayment of Mr. Crutcheley
has given : you felt yourself gente by that debt : is there an En-
glish word for it ? "
RETURN OF PIOZZI AND MARRIAGE. 277
verity ; for she came into the room with him, and said,
" The doctor tells me, Madam, he must write to Mr.
Piozzi about your health ; will you be pleased to tell us
where to find him ? " " At Milan, rny dear," was the
faint reply, " with his friend, the Marquis d'Araciel (a
Spanish grandee) ; his palace, Milan, is sufficient direc-
tion." " Milan ! " exclaimed they all at once, for not one
word had ever passed among us concerning him or his
destination. " Milan ! " So Doctor Dobson, I trust, took
pen and ink, and the next day I was better. Miss
Thrale declared her resolution to go to their own house
at Brighthelmstone, and I entreated permission to attend
them. Short journeys, change of air, &c., helped to
revive me, and Miss Nicholson went with us to Stone-
henge, Wilton, &c. in our way to Sussex, whence I
returned to Bath to wait for Piozzi. He was here the
eleventh day after he got Dobson's letter. In twenty-
six more we were married in London by the Spanish
ambassador's chaplain, and returned hither to be married
by Mr. Morgan, of Bath, at St. James's Church, July 25,
1784.
Greenland, the solicitor my husband now employed,
discovered 1600Z. still due to me, which was paid on
demand ; and for the rest of the debt, Piozzi, laughing,
said it would be discharged in three years at farthest.
So it was ; and I felt as much, I think, of astonishment
as pleasure. From London we went immediately to
Paris, Lyons, Turin, Grenoa, and Milan ; where, as the
Travel Book tells you, we spent the winter, and where
the Marquis of Araciel and his family paid me most
T 3
278 . AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIRS.
distinguished attention. There Mr. Parsons dined with
us, I remember, and left me a copy of complimentary
verses too long to insert here ; but we met again the
following summer at Florence, where we were living in
a sort of literary coterie with Mr. and Mrs. Greathead,
Mr. Merry, whom his friends called Delia Crusca, and a
most agreeable et cetera of English and Italians. We
had designed giving a splendid dinner on our wedding-
day to Lord Pembroke and the whole party, and Mr.
Parsons presented me verses which will not be under-
stood except I write out my own, that provoked them.
He had written a hymn to Venus, so I said :
While Venus inspires, and such verses you sing
As Prior might envy and praise ;
While Merry can mount on the eagle's wide wing,
Or melt in the nightingale's lays :
On the beautiful banks of this classical stream
While Bertie can carelessly rove,
Dividing his hours, and varying his theme
With philosophy, friendship, and love;
In vain all the beauties of nature or art
To rouze my tranquillity tried ;
Too often, said I, has this languishing heart
For the joys of celebrity sigh'd.
Now sooth'd by soft music's seducing delights,
With reciprocal tenderness blest ;
No more will I pant for poetical flights,
Or let vanity rob me of rest.
FLORENCE. 279
The Slave and the Wrestlers, what are they to me ?
From plots and contentions removed ;
And Job with still less satisfaction I see,
When I think of the pains I have prov'd.
It was thus that I sought in oblivion to drown
Each thought from remembrance that flows :
Thus fancy was stagnant I honestly own,
But I called the stagnation repose.
Now, wak'd by my countrymen's voice once again
To enjoyment of pleasures long past ;
Her powers elastic the soul shall regain,
And recall her original taste.
Like the loadstone that long lay conceal'd in the earth,
Among metals which glitter'd around ;
Inactive her talents, and only call'd forth,
When the ore correspondent was found.
To these lines Mr. Parsons brought the following
very flattering answer, which he repeated after dinner :
" To Mrs. Piozzi.
" Tho' sooth'd by soft music's seducing delights,
And blest with reciprocal love ;
These cannot impede your poetical flights,
For still friends to the Muses they prove.
Then sitting so gaily your table around,
Let us all with glad sympathy view
What joys in this fortunate union abound,
This union of wit and virtu.
T 4
280 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIRS.
" May the day that now sees you so mutually blest
In full confidence, love, and esteem,
Still return with increasing delight to your breast,
And be Hymen your favourite theme !
Nor fear that your fertile strong genius should fail,
Each thought of stagnation dispel ;
The fame which so long has attended a Thrale,
A Piozzi alone shall excel.
" As the ore must for ever obedient be found
By the loadstone attracted along :
So in England you drew all the poets around,
By the magical force of your song :
The same power on Arno's fair side you retain ;
Your talents with wonder we see :
And we hope from your converse those talents to
gain,
Tho' like magnets in smaller degree."
Now if I should live to add any more anecdotes of
my life, or any more verses to amuse you, they would
come best at the end of my Journey-Book ; and if you
will send it, perhaps I may add a leaf or two. 18th
December, 18*15.
281
RESIDENCE IN ITALY.
(A separate and detached manuscript.)
BEFORE we began our journey, my good husband
bespoke a magnificent carriage capable of containing
every possible accommodation, and begged me to take tea
enough and books enough ; but when looking over the
last article he saw ' Diodati's Italian Bible, with Notes '
(this was in 1784, 1 remember). * Ah ciel !' he exclaimed,
1 this will bring us into trouble. Be content, my dear
creature, with an English Bible, and reflect that you are
not travelling as you ought to be, like a Protestant lady
of quality, but as the wife of a native, an acknowledged
Papist, and one determined to remain so.' I replied,
from my heart, that I desired to appear in his country
in no other character than that of his wife ; that I would
preserve my religious opinions inviolate at Milan, as he
did his at London ; and that all would go on, to use his
own phrase, aW ottima perfezzione. Observing an un-
dertoned expression, however, saying, * They shall teaze
quest 1 anima bella as little as I can help,' my heart felt
(though I changed the conversation) that my mind
must prepare itself for controversy. The account of
temptations he told me I should undergo of another
282 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIRS.
kind I drove from me with unaffected laughter, but
perceived that he was best pleased when I replied to
them with equally unaffected but more serious pro-
testations of exclusive and unalterable love.
He was right all the while. When we arrived at
Milan, our abiding place, I perceived the men of quality
and bon ton considered me as fair game to shoot their
senseless attentions at ; and my sometimes cold, some-
times indignant, reception of their odd complimentary
addresses, was received at first with most unmerited
displeasure, and in a short time with admiration no less
undeserved. Conjugal fidelity being a thing they had
no conception of, and each concluding I kept my favours
for some one else, nothing undeceived them but my
strictly adhered-to resolution of never'suffering a tete-a-
tete with any man whatever except my husband, and
laughing with them in company, saying we inhabited a
Casa Fidele, and should do honour to the residence.
The truth is, old Comte Fidele, a widower of seventy
years old, said his house was too big for him (an invalid),
and gave us up the winter side of his palace for a year,
paying only 80. My bed-chamber, twenty-seven feet
long and eighteen feet high, was lighted by one immense
window at the end, and looked over the naviglio to the
beautiful mountains of Brianza. Out of this went a
handsome square room where I received my company
in common. Out of that we walked into a large dinner
apartment, next to which was the servants' hall (as we
should call it, but known in Italy by name of anti-
ITALIAN HOUSEHOLD. 283
camera), where and from whence the servants answered
the bell. Through this opened the best drawing-room,
with two fire-places, two large glass lustres, four enor-
mous windows with yellow damask curtains I am
ashamed to say how long, but my maid always said they
were eight yards from top to bottom. Her apartment
opened through this ; for all were passage rooms, and a
small pair of stairs led to a lovely cold bath. I have
not done yet. Behind my magnificent bed of white-
watered tabby, and very clean, a door opened into a
large light closet where I kept my books ; and through
that a commodious staircase led to Mr. Piozzi's bed-
chamber, and a beautiful dressing-room or study, where
he was supposed to receive company, people on business,
&c. All this very well furnished indeed for four-score
pounds a year! ! A. D. 1784.
The showy valet was a Frenchman hired at Paris, the
gaudy butler out of livery resembling nothing but a gold
fish, had eighteen pence a day, and the man cook no less.
One woman, besides my own English Abigail, formed our
household ; a word I should not have used, for they all
walked home in the evening, after the wives and children,
&c. had been brought into the kitchen almost literally to
lick the plates. It seemed very odd, but I believe Mr.
Piozzi paid everybody every night of his life. I remember
his asking me one day what I thought our dinner came
to ; we were eight at table, the dishes seven and nine.
When I had made some ridiculous conjectures, he showed
me that the whole expense, wine included, was thirteen
shillings of our money, no more, and I expected to hear
284 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIRS.
him say how happy he was. Not a bit ; he was happy
only in my attachment and society; his countrymen
were his scourge. They told him, as I was a Protestant
I was of course an infidel, and should be a favourite at
the German court which the Emperor kept at Milan.
So I was ; but one day when some of our Italian eccle-
siastics dined with us and met the Austrian Count
Kinigh, the Viennese librarian, &c., who endeavoured
to play upon the natives, ridiculing their superstitions,
&c., I could bear no more of what they called philo-
sophy, the less perhaps because they hoped I should be
pleased with such discourse, and much amazed our
Milanese friends by saying, when applied to, that I
really thought the thorns of ancient philosophy were
now only fit to burn in the fire, unless we could make
a hedge of them to fence in the possession of Christian
truth.
This speech won all the old abates' hearts at once,
and was echoed about with ten times the praise it
deserved. I was now assailed on every side to become
a Komanist, for Catholics I never would submit to call
them who excluded from salvation every sect of our
religion but their own. Dear Piozzi grew_ more and
more weary of this controversial chat ; but it was comical
to see with how much pleasure he witnessed my gaining
even a momentary triumph over these men, skilled in
disputation and masters of their own language. " Are
you a Calvinist, Madam ? " said one of the Monsignori.
" Certainly not" was the reply. " Do you kneel to re-
ceive the Sacrament ? " "I cZo." " And are not those
LIFE AT MILAN. 2S5
fellows damned who do receive it standing or sitting ? "
"I believe not," said I. "Our blessed Lord did not
himself eat the passover according to the strict rules of
the Mosaical law, which insists on its being eaten stand-
ing ; whereas we know that Jesus Christ reclined on a
triclinium, as was the usage of Rome and of the times.
Nay, perhaps he was pleased to do so, that such disputes
should not arise ; or if arising, that his example might
be appealed to." " What proof have you of our Saviour's
reclining on a triclinium ? " " St. John's leaning on his
breast at supper," said I. " Oh, that was at common
meals, not at the passover." " Excuse me, my lord, it
was at the last solemn supper, which we all com-
memorate with our best intentions, some one way, some
another. Their method is not yours, neither is it mine;
let us beware of judging, lest we ourselves be judged."
" Fetch me a Bible, Sir," said Monsignore. " I will bring
mine," said I. " Excuse me now, Madam," replied my
antagonist ; " we cannot abide but by the Vulgate."
Canonico Palazzi offered to go ; I begged of him to buy
me one at the next bookseller's three doors off. My
victory was complete, and I have the Bible still which
won it for me.
All this, however delightful, grew very wearisome
and a little dangerous ; and we were glad when spring
time came, that we might set out upon our travels.
Every new comer from that country (England) told
us how all ill-reports had subsided, how the Cardinal
Prince d'Orim's civilities had been related up and down,
and in short that we had but to return, secure of every
286 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIKS.
comfort Great Britain could afford. Mr. Piozzi said,
the moment every debt should be discharged, that he
would turn his horses' heads towards the island he had
always preferred to every other place ; and, so saying,
we travelled on, as happy in leaving Milan as in ar-
riving there. Au reste, as the French say, few things
befell us worth recording, except Count Manucci's visit.
He had been intimate with Mr. Thrale in England, as
Johnson's letters abundantly testify, and had taken a
fancy to Mr. Piozzi at Paris, when he was there with
Sacchini. Hearing, therefore, of his marriage, he came
one morning, but never had a notion that it was with
me he had connected himself. * Ah, Madame ! ' ex-
claimed the Count, * quel coup de Theatre ! ' when the
door opened, and showed him an old acquaintance with
a new name. This was the nobleman who, I told you,
lamented so tenderly that his sister's children were
counterfeited.
We return to the Biographical Anecdotes.
The letters from our daughters had been cold and
unfrequent during the whole absence ; a little more so
as we approached nearer home. The newspapers had
told of our exploits at Brussels, and public good-hu-
mour seemed disposed to wait and even to meet our
return. Fector, the government officer at Dover, would
not even look into our portmanteaus, trunks, &c.; and
I saw instantly that the tide was turned. Numberless
cards were left at the Eoyal Hotel, where we remained
till a house in Hanover Square was fitted up to receive
us, and on the 22nd of May, we opened with a concert
RECEPTION IN ENGLAND. 287
and supper, the more willingly, as Mr. Gator, in whose
hands we placed our pecuniary affairs at starting, pro-
nounced the mortgage paid off, and 15001. in the bank
to begin with. This Mr. Gator had been one of our
insulting enemies ; was acting executor to Mr. Thrale
and guardian to his daughters ; had said, that I should
be soon deceased, but my death would be concealed by
Mr. Piozzi, while he enjoyed my jointure, &c. ; this
man's approbation was indeed a triumph, and we now
intended to be happy.
Cecilia had been left at Eay and Frey's school
at Streatham, with friends I could depend on ; but
Lady Keith removed her thence and placed her at
Stevenson's, Queen's Square, without my knowledge
or consent. We kept our distance then, and so
did they ; meeting only in public. I took my
little mad-headed Cecilia home, and we had masters to
her, &c. Nor do I know when the sisters and I should
have met again, had not she grown so fast that at four-
teen years old or six months more, Mr. Piozzi felt him-
self alarmed, and was advised by our friends, Lord
Huntingdon, Sir Charles Hotham, and the Grreatheads,
with whom we lived familiarly, to put the young lady
into Chancery, a measure he was most earnest to adopt.
We were at Streatham Park, but I observed my husband
unusually anxious, when an old Mr. Jones who had
married Sir William Fowler's daughter, my mother's
first cousin, told me that the Miss Thrales had made over-
tures of reconciliation through him (who lived much
with us), and that he should make a breakfast party for
288 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIRS.
us all at his house in Cavendish Square, with my per-
mission. It was the middle of the French Kevolution,
so there was talk enough, and the day went on very
well, with an invitation to the ladies for Easter Tues-
day, I remember ; and Pisani, the Venetian ambassador,
Lord and Lady Coventry, and 130 people, in short,
witnessed our gaiety and mutual good-humour. Three
weeks more, however, had scarce elapsed before Miss
Thrale, now Viscountess Keith, came down on horse-
back, and said she must speak to us on business. It
was to beg Mr. Piozzi would not put Cecilia into Chan-
cery. Their fortunes, they alleged, would be examined
by lawyers, and dear Mr. Gator's accounts too would be
hauled over, with which they were well contented ;
alluding, besides this, to some undisclosed dealings and
connexions of their father's, wholly new and very sur-
prising to me, who had no notion of his affairs beyond
the counting-house and brewhouse yard. In short,
they frighted us into every compliance they could wish,
then kept their distance as before, sending perpetually
for Cecy.
Libels and odd ill-natured speeches appeared some-
times in the public prints, and one day of the ensuing
winter, when I was airing my lap-dogs in a retired part
of Hyde Park, Lord Fife came up to me, and after a
moment's chat, said, " Would you like to know your
friends from your enemies?" in a Scotch accent. " Yes,
very much, my lord," was the reply. " Ay, but have
you strength of mind enough to bear my intelligence ? "
" Make haste and tell me, dear my lord," said I. " Why
CALUMNY. BRYNBELLA. 289
then the Burneys are your enemies, that so fostered and
fondled ; more than that, Baretti has been making up
a libel and every magazine has refused
it entrance except a new work carried on by the female
Burneys." "Never mind," replied I, "nobody will
read their work ; I feel as I ought towards your lord-
ship's friendship, which you cannot prove better than
by not naming the subject ; it will die away, so will the
authors ; good morrow, and a thousand thanks." . . .
My own books came out one by one : they pleased, and
I suffered not these tormentors much to vex me. We
went on spending our money at and upon Streatham
Park, till old Mr. Jones and the wise Marquis Trotti
advised Piozzi to make the tour of North Wales, and
see my country, my estate, &c. We had been all over
Scotland, except the Highlands, where we were afraid
of carrying Cecy because of her unsteady health. I
staid with dear Mrs. Siddons, at Eose Hill, while our
friends made their ramble, and came back as much de-
lighted with Denbighshire and Flintshire as Mr. Thrale
had been disgusted with them. This was charming.
Piozzi had fixed upon a spot, and resolved to build an
Italian villa on the banks of the Clwydd. Even Mr.
Murphy applauded the project, and we drew in our
expenses, preparing to engage in brick and mortar.
Gout now fastened on Mr. Piozzi, who built his pretty
villa in North Wales, and conforming to our religious
opinions, kindly set our little church at Dymerchion
in a state it never before enjoyed, spending sums of
YOL. i. u
290 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIRS.
money on its decoration, and making a vault for my
ancestors and for ourselves to repose in. I wrote verses
for the opening of our tiny temple, and dear Piozzi set
them most enchantingly to music ; our clerk, he said,
was a very good genius ; and I trust a more virtuous or
pious pleasure could not be felt than ours when teach-
ing those poor people to sing the lines you will read over
leaf.
With homely verse and artless lays,
Full oft these humble roofs shall ring ;
Whilst to our dear Redeemer's praise
Bough youths and village maidens sing.
Incarnate Grod ! when He appear'd,
And blessings all around him spread,
Though still by radiant myriads fear'd,
He chose the poor, the lowly shed.
And sure before He comes again
In awful state to judge the world ;
Resounding choirs though He disdain,
Temples and tow'rs in ruin hurl'd ;
To unambitious efforts kind,
Pleas'd He permits our rustic lays ;
Our simple voices, unrefin'd,
Have leave to sing their Saviour's praise.
The house, our dwelling-house I mean, was built
from a design of its elegant master's own hand, and he
ARRIVAL OF HER ADOPTED HEIR. 291
set poor old Bachygraig up too ; repaired and beautified
it, and to please his silly wife, gilt the Llewenny lion on
its top. The scroll once held in his paw was broke and
gone. Lombardy, where his (Mr. Piozzi's) relations
lived, was torn by faction, and his father, a feeble old
man of eighty-one years old, equal to one hundred in
our island, was actually terrified into apoplexy, lethargy,
and death. His son, who half entertained a tender
thought that they might meet once more, grieved for
his loss severely, the more so, as he himself said, because
* Sara quel che sara, ma alia fin, il sangue non e acqua.'
His brother, I am afraid, joined the Eepublicans, leaving
a very deserving lady, born at Venice, whose friends
were wholly ruined, though her] uncle, the Abbate
Zendrini, was afterwards in high favour, and even ap-
pointed confessor to Buonaparte. They had baptized
one of their babies by name of John Salusbury in com-
pliment to me, and Mr. Piozzi sent to bring him out of
the confusion. He came an infant between three and
four years old. We educated him first at Mr. Davis's
school at Streatham, where my own son had been placed
so many years before, and then with Mr. Shephard, of
Enborne, Berkshire, whence he commonly came to us at
Streatham Park, or Bath, or Brynbella.
You know the rest. You know that dear Mr. Piozzi
died of the gout at his pretty villa in North Wales. You
know that he left me that, and everything else, never
naming his nephew in the will, only leaving among his
father's children 60001. in the three per cents., being the
whole of his savings during the twenty-five years he
u 2
292 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIRS.
had shared and enjoyed my fortune. Unexampled gene-
rosity indeed ! And true love ! Could I do less than
repay it to the child whose situation in life I now
felt responsible for ! I bred him with his friends at
Oxford, yet he stood alone, insulated in a nation where
he had no natural friend. Incapacitated to return where
his religion would have rendered him miserable, and
petted, and spoiled, till any profession would have been
painful. What could I do ? The boy had besides all
this formed an attachment to his friend's sister. What
could I do ? You know what I did do. I gave them
my estate ; and resolving that Mr. Thrale's daughters
should suffer as little as possible by this arrangement,
I repaired and new fronted their house at Streatham
Park, and by the enormous expense incurred there, and
the loss of my rents from Denbighshire and Flintshire,
reduced myself to the very wretched state you found me
in, and lavished upon me a friendship, which, at the
sauciest hour of my life, would by my mind have been
esteemed an honour, but in this sad deserted stage of it
the truest, very near the only cordial. Thus then, as
Adam says to Eaphael in Milton's "Paradise Lost" :
" Thus have I told thee all my state ; and brought
My story to that sum of earthly bliss
Which /enjoy; and since at length to part,
Go ; Bent of heaven, angelic messenger,
Gentle to me, and affable hath been
Thy conversation, to be honour'd ever
With grateful memory,"
by H. L. Piozzi.
293
THRALE'S WILL. SALE OF THE BREWERY.
" WE read the will to-day." Johnson to Mrs. Thrale,
April 5, 1781.
It was neither kind or civil, you will say, to open
the will in my absence, but Mr. Thrale had been
both civil and kind in labouring to restore to me
the Welsh estate, which I had meant to give him in our
momenta of uneasiness when I became possessed of it
by Sir Thomas Salusbury's death, from whom we had
once expected Offley Place in Hertfordshire, and all its
wide domain. Notwithstanding that disappointment,
my husband left me the interest of 50,0001. for my life,
doubtless in return for my diligence during our dis-
tresses in 1772, because it is specified to be given over
and above what was provided in our marriage settle-
ment. He left me also the plate, pictures, and linen of
both houses, forgetting even to name Brighthelmstone, so
all I had bought for that place fell to the ladies (who
said loudly what a wretched match their poor papa had
made). It was not so, however. Mr. Thrale had re-
ceived the rents and profits from Wales, 9000L, and had
cut timber for 4000L more. My mother and my aunts,
and an old Doctor Bernard Wilson, had left me 50001.
among them, more or less, and I carried 10,000. in my
hand, so that the family was benefited by me 28,000?.
u 3
294 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIRS.
at the lowest, besides having been, as King Richard
expresses it,
" A jack-horse in their great affairs."
On Mr. Thrale's death I kept the counting-house from
nine o'clock every morning till five o'clock every even-
ing till June, when Grod Almighty sent us a knot of
rich Quakers who bought the whole, and saved me and
my coadjutors from brewing ourselves into another
bankruptcy, which hardly could, I think, have been
avoided being, as we were five in number, Gator,
Crutchley, Johnson, myself, and Mr. Smith, all with equal
power, yet all incapable of using it without help from
Mr. Perkins, who wished to force himself into partner-
ship, though hating the whole lot of us, save only me.
Upon my promise, however, that if he would find us a pur-
chaser, I would present his wife with my dwelling-house
at the Borough, and all its furniture, he soon brought
forward these Quaker Barclays, from Pennsylvania I be-
lieve they came, her own relations I have heard and
they obtained the brewhouse a prodigious bargain, but
Miss Thrale was of my mind to part with it for 150,000?. ;
and I am sure I never did repent it, as certainly it was
best for us five females at the time, although the place
has now doubled its value, and although men have almost
always spirit to spend, while women show greater resolu-
tion to spare.
Will it surprise you now to hear that, among all my
fellow executors, none but Johnson opposed selling the
concern ? Gator, a rich timber merchant, was afraid of
implicating his own credit as a commercial man.
JOHNSON AT THE BREWERY. 295
Crutchley hated Perkins, and lived upon the verge of a
quarrel with him every day while they acted together.
Smith cursed the whole business, and wondered what his
relation, Mr. Thrale, could mean by leaving him 2001.
he said, and such a burden on his back to bear for it.
All were well pleased to find themselves secured, and
the brewhouse decently, though not very, advantageously
disposed of, except dear Doctor Johnson, who found
some odd delight in signing drafts for hundreds and
for thousands, to him a new, and as it appeared delight-
ful, occupation. When all was nearly over, however, I
cured his honest heart of its incipient passion for trade,
by letting him into some, and only some, of its mys-
teries. The plant, as it is called, was sold, and I gave
God thanks upon Whit Sunday, 1781, for sparing me
farther perplexity, though at the cost of a good house, &c.
296 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIRS.
THE CHARMING 8,8.
" So you may set the Streatfield at defiance."
Johnson, Oct. 15, 1778 ; Letters, vol. ii. p. 20.
My dear and ever honoured Doctor Collier was the
cause of my making this Miss Streatfield's acquaint-
ance. I had learned from others that he dropped into
her hands soon as dismissed from mine ; and that he
gained rather than lost by the exchange, had long been
my secret consolation. She was but fourteen or fifteen
when they first met, and he was growing sickly. She
did her own way, and her way was to wait on him, who
instructed her in Greek, and who obtained from her
excess of tenderness for him, what I could not have
bestowed. I have heard her say she grudged his old
valet the happiness of reaching him a glass of wine,
and out of her house did he never more make his
residence, but died in her arms, and was buried at her
expense, the moment she came of age.* All these
* The attachment inspired by Dr. Collier in both his pupils
resembles that of Stella and Vanessa for Swift, the growth of
which is described in the Dean's best poem, "Cadnus and
Vanessa " :
" I knew by what you said and writ
How dang'rous things were men of wit :
You caution'd me against their charms,
But never gave me equal arms.
Your lessons found the weakest part,
Aim'd at the head, but reach'd the heart."
MISS STREATFIELD. 297
accounts did I never cease listening to, till I observed
my beautiful friend, not contented with her legitimate
succession to the heart of Doctor Collier, was endea-
vouring to supplant me in the esteem of Mr. Thrale,
whose good opinion, assailed vainly by Baretti, it was
my business and my bounden duty to retain. Miss
Thrale, now Lady Keith, was in this case my coadjutor ;
though she had acted in concert with Baretti, she
abhorred this attack of Miss Streatfield, who was very
dangerous indeed, both from her beauty and learning.
Wit she possessed none of, and was as ignorant as an
infant of
" That which before us lies in daily life."
No wonder Mr. Thrale, whose mind wanted some new
object, since he had lost his son, and lost beside the
pleasure he had taken in his business, before all know-
ledge of it was shared with myself, no wonder that
he encouraged a sentimental attachment to Sophia
Streatfield, who became daily more and more dear to
him, and almost necessary. No one who visited us
missed seeing his preference of her to me ; but she was
so amiable and so sweet natured, no one appeared to
blame him for the unusual and unrepressed delight he
took in her agreeable society. I was exceedingly op-
pressed by pregnancy, and saw clearly my successor in
the fair S. S. as we familiarly called her in the family,
of which she now made constantly a part, and stood
godmother to my new-born baby, by bringing which I
only helped to destroy my own health, and disappoint
298 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIRS.
my husband, who wanted a son. " Why Mr. Thrale is
Peregrinus Domi," said Dr. Johnson ; " he lives in Clifford
Street, I hear, all winter ; " and so he did, leaving his
carriage at his sister's door in Hanover Square, that no
inquirer might hurt his favourite's reputation; which
my behaviour likewise tended to preserve from injury,
and we lived on together as well as we could. Miss
Browne, who sung enchantingly, and had been much
abroad ; Miss Burney, whose powers of amusement were
many and various, were my companions then at Streat-
ham Park, with Doctor Johnson, who wanted me to be
living at the Borough, because less inconvenient to him,
so he said I passed my winter in Surrey, " feeding my
chickens and starving my understanding :" but 1779,
and the summer of it was coming, to bring on us a
much more serious calamity.
299
THRALE'S ILLNESS.
" YOUR account of Mr. Thrale's illness is very terrible."
Johnson, June 14, 1770; Letters, vol. ii. p. 47.
My account of Mr. Thrale's illness had every reason
to be terrible. He had slept at Streatham Park, and
left it after breakfast, looking as usual.
His sister's husband, Mr. Nesbitt, often men-
tioned in these Letters and Memoirs, had been dead
perhaps a fortnight. He was commercially connected,
I knew, with Sir George Colebrook and Sir Some-
thing Turner ; but that was all I knew and that
was nothing. I knew of nothing between Thrale
and them, till after my return from Italy, and was
the more perhaps shocked and amazed when, sitting
after dinner with Lady Keith and Doctor Burney
and his daughter, I believe, my servant Sam opened
the drawing-room door with un air effare, saying : " My
master is come home, but there is something amiss." I
started up, and saw a tall black female figure, who
cried, "Don't go into the library, don't go in I say."
My rushing by her somewhat rudely was all her pro-
hibition gained : but there sate Mrs. Nesbitt holding
her brother's hand, who I perceived knew not a syllable
of what was passing. So I called Dr. Burney, begged
300 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIRS.
him to fly in the post-chaise, which was then waiting
for him, and send me some physician, Sir R. Jebb or
Pepys, or if none else could be found, my old accoucheur,
Doctor Bromfield of Gerard Street. 'Twas he that
came ; and, convincing me it was an apoplectic seizure,
acted accordingly, while the silly ladies went home
quite contented I believe : only Mrs. Nesbitt said she
thought he was delirious; and from her companion I
learned that he had dined at their house, had seen
the will opened, and had dropped as if lifeless from
the dinner-table ; when, instead of calling help, they
called their carriage, and brought him five or six miles
out of town in that condition. Would it not much
enrage one ? From this dreadful situation medical art
relieved Mr. Thrale, but the natural disposition to con-
viviality degenerated into a preternatural desire for
food, like Erisicthon of old
tl Gibus omnis in illo
Causa cibi est; eemperque locus inanis edendo."
It was a distressing moment, and the distress in-
creasing perpetually, nor could any one persuade our
patient to believe, or at least to acknowledge, he ever
had been ill. With a person, the very wretched wreck
of what it had been, no one could keep him at home.
Dinners and company engrossed all his thoughts, and
dear Dr. Johnson encouraged him in them, that he
might not appear wise, or predicting his friend's cer-
tainly accelerated dissolution.
Death of the baby boy I carried in my bosom, was
THRALE8 ILLNESS. 301
the natural consequence of the scene described here ;
but I continued to carry him till a quarrel among the
clerks, which I was called to pacify, made a complete
finish of the child and nearly of me. The men were
reconciled though, and my danger accelerated their
reconcilement.
302 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIKS.
DEATH OF THRALE.
" IT was by bleeding till he fainted that his life was
saved." Johnson, Aug. 24, 1780; Letters, vol. ii.
p. 185.
Here is another allusion to that famous bleeding
which certainly in Southwark did save the life of Mr.
Thrale, and by its immediate effects mined my nerves
for ever.
Sir Kichard however said : (l We have paid his heavy
debt this time, but he must eat prudently in future."
No one however could control his appetite, which
Sir Lucas Pepys, who was at Brighthelmstone, observing,
commanded us to town, and took a house not 100
yards from his own for us, in Grrosvenor Square, and I
went every day to the Borough, whence Lancaster, a
favourite clerk third in command, was run away with
1850L Thither poor Dr. Delap followed me, begging a
prologue to his new play, and I remember composing it
in the coach, as I was driving up and down after Lan-
caster : but my business in Southwark was of far severer
import.
Some fellow had incited our master to begin a new
and expensive building to the amount of 20,000?., after
the progress of which he was ever inquisitive, and kept
the plan of it in his bedchamber. So little did Dr.
DEATH OF THRALE. 303
Johnson even then comprehend the strict awe I sto od in
of my first husband, that I well recollect his saying
to me, " Madam ! You should tear that foolish paper
down : why 'tis like leaving a wench's loveletter in the
apartments of a man whom you would wish to cure of
his amorous passion." Grod knows I durst as well en-
counter death as disturb Mr. Thrale's loveletters or his
building plans. The next grand agony was seeing him
send out cards of invitation to a concert and supper on
the 5th of April. He had himself charged Piozzi, who
was the first to tell me, with care of the musical part of
our entertainment, and had himself engaged the Parsees,
a set of Orientals, who were shown at all the gay houses,
the lions of the day. I could but call my coadjutors,
Jebb and Pepys; who tried to counteract this frolic, but
in vain. They were obliged to compromise the matter
by making him promise to leave town for Streatham
immediately after the 5th. " Leave London ! lose my
Kanelagh season ! " exclaimed their patient. " Why Sir,
we wished you to be here, that our attendance might be
more regular, and less expensive : but since we find you
thus unmanageable, you are safest at a distance." Now,
Johnson first began to see, or say he saw the danger,
but now his lectures upon temperance came all too late.
Poor Mr. Thrale answered him only by inquiring when
lamprey season would come in ? requesting Sir Philip,
who was dining with us, to write his brother, the Pre-
bendary of Worcester, a letter, begging from him the
first fish of that kind the Severn should produce. I
winked at Sir Philip, but he, following us women half
304 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIRS.
up stairs, said : " I understand you, Madam, but must
disobey. A friend I have known thirty-six years shall
not ask a favour of me in his last stage of life and be
refused. What difference can it make ? " Tears stood
in his eyes, and my own prevented all answer. In
effect, that day was Mr. Thrale's last ! I saw him in
Sir Eichard's arms at midnight. Pepys came at ten,
and never left the house till early light showed me
the way to Streatham : and from thence, hoping still
less disturbance, to Brighthelmstone : where we had a
dwelling house of our own, and whither you will see the
letters all addressed.
This was thirty-four or thirty-five years ago, yet
did I never completely recover my strength of body or
of mind again. I am sure I never did ! The shocks of
1780 and 1781 are not yet either recovered or forgotten
by poor H. L. P.
305
DR. COLLIER.
"POOR dear Dr. Collier." Letters, vol. ii. p. 183.
Perhaps this is no improper place to observe that
La Bruyere tells his readers with confidence how the
firmest friendships will be always dissolved by the inter-
vention of love seizing the heart of either party.* It
may be so : but certainly the sentiment with which dear
Dr. Collier inspired me in 1757 remains unaltered now
in the year 1815. After my father's death my kind and
prudent mother, resolving I should marry Mr. Thrale,
and fearing possibly lest my Preceptor should foment
any disinclination which she well knew would melt in
her influence, or die in her displeasure, resolved to part
us, and we met no more : but never have I failed re-
membering him with a preference as completely distinct
from the venerating solicitude which hung heavily over
my whole soul whilst connected with Doctor Johnson,
as it was from the strong connubial duty that tied my
every thought to Mr. Thrale's interest, or from the
fervid and attractive passion which made twenty years
passed in Piozzi's enchanting society seem like a happy
dream of twenty hours. My first friend formed my
mind to resemble his. It never did resemble that of
* " No friend like to a woman man discovers,
So that they have not been, nor may be, lovers."
BTBOK.
VOL. I. J.
306 AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIRS.
either of my husbands, and in that of Doctor Johnson's
mine was swallowed up and lost. Oh true were these
words, put together so long ago :
" The sentiment I feel for you
No pow'r on earth shall e'er subdue ;
No pow'r on earth shall e'er remove,
Nor pungent grief nor ardent love."
Sophia Streatfield too, if yet living, will bear testi-
mony to the strange power of Doctor Arthur Collier
over the minds of his youthful pupils when past seventy
years old, and to the day of his death, which when I
knew her, she lamented annually, by wearing a black
dress, &c. If he did not burn my letters, Latin exer-
cises, &c., she possesses them.
Mr. Thrale's passion for her she played with ; a
little perhaps diverting herself by mortifying me, but
there was no harm done, I am confident. He thought
her a thing at least semi-celestial ; had he once found
her out a mere mortal woman, his flame would have
blazed out no more. And it did blaze frightfully indeed
during one dreadful attack of the apoplexy at our
Borough house, alluded to in these letters, page 178,
when by Sir Eichard Jebb's conditional permission,
Shaw the apothecary bled Mr. Thrale usque ad deli-
quium, and I thought all over. When, however, tem-
porary and apparent recovery followed the horrid
process of stimulating cataplasms which awakened him
from carus to delirium, that delirium only appeased by
bleeding quite to faintness; when he had remained
mute five long days ; not speaking a consolatory word
THE FAIR SOPHIA. 307
to one of us: friends, sisters, daughters, clerks, phy-
sicians, no sooner was Sophy Streatfield's voice heard
in Southwark, than our patient sate up in bed, con-
versed with her without hesitation, and even said, with
a complimentary smile, kissing her hand, that the visit
she had made that day, had repaid all his sufferings.
It was from this attack, when he recovered, that Law-
rence, Jebb, &c. sent us to Bath, whence rioters dis-
lodged and drove us to Brighthelmstone. From thence
we returned to London : a ready-furnished house in
Grosvenor Square being thought the best place by
medical advisers, while Perkins assured Doctor Johnson
that his master would be safest, in every respect, at a
distance from his business.
X 2
308 MARGINAL NOTES.
MINOR MARGINAL NOTES ON THE TWO VOLUMES
OF PRINTED LETTERS.*
Mr. Seward. Mr. Seward, who wrote the "Anec-
dotes:" he was only son to a rich brewer, whom he
disappointed and grieved by his preference of literature
to riches. His head, however, was not quite right. I
believe his principles were vitiated by his studies among
the Swiss infidels : Helvetius, D'Alembert, and the rest
of them. He kept his morality pure for the sake of his
health perhaps, for he was a professed valetudinarian.
Mr. Keep. Mr. Keep, when he heard I was a native
of North Wales, told me that his wife was a Welsh
woman, and desired to be buried at Ruthyn. " So," says
the man, " I went with the corpse myself, because I
thought it would be a pleasant journey, and indeed I
found Euthyn a very beautiful place."
Sir Robert Chambers. The box goes to Calcutta
to Sir Robert Chambers, a favourite with them all. (I
never could see why.) He was judge in India, married
Fanny Wilton the statuary's daughter, who stood for
Hebe at the Royal Academy. She was very beautiful
indeed, and but fifteen years old when Sir Robert mar-
ried her. His portrait is in the library at Streatham
Park. 1815.
* The name, or passage, suggesting the note is given when re-
quired for its elucidation.
BATH. WHITBREAD. 309
Bath is often mentioned in these letters, but I
forgot among the baby anecdotes which precede them,
to say how I remembered being carried about the rooms
by Beau Nash, and taken notice of by Lady Caroline,
mother to the famous Charles James Fox.
On Johnson's writing to congratulate her on making
the conquest of the Prince of Castiglione, she writes :
" The man who drank hfe health by name of Mr. Vaga-
bond."
Whitbread. Would you for the other thousand
have my master such a man as Whitbread ? Father to
the man who killed himself. He asked me to marry
him after Mr. Thrale's death, when his fortune was
much increased : on my refusal (he had three children)
Lady Mary Cornwallis accepted his hand, and brought
him a daughter before she died.
" But I long to see 20,000. in the bank." Johnson.
Ay so did I, but not one shilling was found by the
executors in any place, except a trifle for present use at
the banker's shop ; 6,000?., no more : and no estate
purchased anywhere. Although Murphy said after-
wards that Mr. T. enjoyed a contract, bringing in
26,0007. a-year for three years, of which neither Dr.
Johnson nor I, nor Perkins the head clerk, ever heard.
I now know that to be true, but have not known it
fifteen years. Mr. Murphy himself witnessed the deed,
the contract. Very strange !
x 3
310 MARGINAL NOTES.
"Why should you suspect me of forgetting lilly
lolly ?" Johnson.
Ask me about this stuff, and I'll try to tell you:
come, here it is. One of our Welsh squires had a half-
witted son, his sole heir, poor fellow ! and the
parents fondled it accordingly. W 7 hen Christmas came,
and all the country was invited at Llewenney Hall, the
seat of my mother's eldest brother, who married Lady
Elizabeth Tollemache, came these dear Wynnes and their
booby boy about eleven years old. " What does the child
say ? " cries my aunt, " it sounds like lilly lolly." " In-
deed, my Lady Betty," replies the mother, in a sharp
Welsh accent, " Dick does say lilly lolly, sure enough :
but he 'mains : How do you do, Sir Eobert Cotton ? "
I had probably in some imprinted letter said : " Here's
a deal of lilly lolly, which I suppose you forget, but it
means How do you do, Dr. Johnson ?"
Foote. " Did you see Foote at Brighthelmstone ?
Did you think he would so soon be gone ? Life, says
Falstaff, is a shuttle. He was a fine fellow in his way ;
and the world is really impoverished by his sinking
glories. Murphy ought to write his life, at least to
give the world a Footeana. Now, will any of his con-
temporaries bewail him? Will Grenius change his sex
to weep ? I would really have his life written with
diligence." * Johnson. ^
Doctor Johnson was not aware that Foote broke his
* A very able essay on the " Life and Character of Foote " has
been written by Mr. Forster, who clears his memory of the
calumny which shortened his life.
FOOTE. RICHARDSON. PEPTS. 3 1 1
heart because of a hideous detection ; he was trying to
run away from England, and from infamy, but death
ntopped him. Doctor Johnson never could persuade
himself that things were as bad as the sufferer or his
friends represented them ; he thought it ivrong to be-
lieve so, and steadily made the best on't
Richardson. " Doctor Johnson said, that if Mr.
Richardson had lived till / came out, my praises would
have added two or three years to his life : ' For,' says
Dr. Johnson, ' that fellow died merely for want of change
among his flatterers : he perished for want of more, like
a man obliged to breathe the same air till it is ex-
hausted.' "
&C.J
" Here is Mr. , now Sir William, however, who
talks all about taste, and classics, and country customs,
and rural sports, with rapture, which he perhaps fancies
unaffected was riding by our chaise on the Downs yes-
terday, and said, because the sun shone, that one could
not perceive it was autumn ; ' for,' says he, ' there is not
one tree in sight to show us the fall of the leaf; and
hark ! how that sweet bird sings,' continued he, * just like
the first week in May.' 'No, no,' replied I, 'that's nothing
but a poor robin-redbreast, whose chill wintry note tells
the season too plainly, without assistance from the vege-
table kingdom.' ' Why, you amaze me,' quoth our friend,
'I had no notion of thaV Yet Mrs. says, this
man is a natural converser, and Mrs. - is an honour-
able lady." - Letters, vol. ii. p. 33.
X 4
312 MARGINAL NOTES.
The blanks are filled up with the names of Pepys
and Montagu.
The Burneys. Doctor Burney and his family are
often spoken of in these Memoirs. He was a man of very
uncommon attainments : wit born with him, I suppose ;
learning, he had helped himself to, and was proud of the
possession ; elegance of manners he had so cultivated,
that those who knew but little of the man, fancied he
had great flexibility of mind. It was mere pliancy of
body, however, and a perpetual show of obsequiousness
by bowing incessantly as if acknowledging an inferiority,
which nothing would have forced him to confess. I never
in my life heard Johnson pronounce the words, " I beg
your pardon, Sir," to any human creature but the appa-
rently soft and gentle Dr. Burney. Perhaps the story
may be related in the " Anecdotes : " but as I now recol-
lect it, thus it is. " Did you, Madam, subscribe 100. to
build our new bridge at Shrewsbury ? " said Burney to
me. " No, surely, Sir," was my reply, " What connexion
have I with Shropshire? and where should I have
money so to fling away ? " " It is very comical, is it not,
Sir?" said I, turning to Dr. Johnson, "that people
should tell such unfounded stories ? " " It is," answered
he, " neither comical nor serious, my dear ; it is only a
wandering lie." This was spoken in his natural voice,
without a thought of offence, I am confident ; but up
bounced Burney in a towering passion, and to my much
amaze, put on the hero, surprising Doctor Johnson into
a sudden request for pardon, and protestation of not
DR. BURNET. 313
having ever intended to accuse his friend of a falsehood.
The following lines written, sur le champ, with a gold
pen I gave him, prove he could make more agreeable
impromptus than this I have related :
" Such implements, tho' fine and splendid,
They say can ne'er write well :
With common fame that truth is blended,
Let this example tell.
" If bounteous Thrale could thus confer
Her learning, sense, and wit ;
Who would not wish a gift from her,
Who not to beg submit ?
" Paupers from Grub Street at her gate
Would crowd both young and old,
In humble guise to supplicate
For thoughts not pens of gold.
" For not alone the gift of tongues,
The Muses' grace and favour :
Adorn her prose, and on her songs
Bestow the Attic flavour.
" The Virtues all around her wait
T' infuse their influence mild ;
And every duty regulate
Of parent, wife, and child.
314 MARGINAL NOTES.
" Such judgment to direct each storm,
Each hurricane to weather ;
A mind so pure, a heart so warm,
How seldom found together ! "
There was a merry tale told about the town of
some musical nobleman having been refused tickets for
his private concert about this time by blind Stanley,
who he had always patronised : and of his going to a
grave friend's, I forget who, where, foaming with anger,
he at length exclaimed : " But I will go to Burney's
house to-night (where there was music), and that will do
for him." "Are you mad, my dear Lord?" says the
grave man amazed : " to talk of setting a blind man's
house on fire, because he has refused your favourite
girl a ticket ? Fie ! fie ! I am ashamed of listening to
such strange things." The equivoque was now well
understood, but having no acquaintance with the doctor,
the gentleman thought he had menaced going to burn
his house.
We had been talking of the French rondeaux one
day, and both doctors said they were impracticable in
English, so I made this Musa loquitur :
To burn ye with rapture, or melt you with pity,
A rondeau was never intended :
Yet the lines should be light, and the turn should
be witty,
And the jest is to see how 'tis ended.
To finish it neat in an elegant style
Though Phoebus himself should discern ye ;
RONDEAUX. 315
And though to throw light on the troublesome toil,
Should he shine hot enough for to burn ye,
You still would be vex'd,
Incumbered, perplex'd,
So teizing the rhymes would return ye :
In a fit of despair
Then this moment forbear,
And let me some humility learn ye :
Leave writing with ease,
And each talent to please,
And making of rondeaux to Burney.
"VOITURE'S FAMOUS RONDEAU
" Ma foi, c'est fait de moi, car Isabeau
M'a conjure de lui faire un rondeau ;
Cela me met dans une peine extreme,
Quoi ! treize vers, huit en eau, cinq en erne !
Je lus ferois aussitot un bateau.
" En voila cinq pourtant en un monceau
Faisons en huit en invoquant brodeau ;
Et puis mettons, par quelque stratageme
Ma foi c'est fait.
" Si je pouvois encore de mon cerveau
Tirer cinq vers, 1'ouvrage seroit beau ;
Mais cependant je suis dedans Ponzieme
Et si je crois que je fais le douzieme
En voila treize ajustes au niveau,
Ma foi c'est fait."
316 MARGINAL NOTES.
Is borrowed from a sonnet of Lope de Vega, admi-
rably imitated in our collection of poems called " Dods-
ley's Miscellanies " :
" SONETO.
" Un soneto me manda hazer Violante
Que en mi vida me he visto en tanto aprieto.
Catorze versos dizen que es soneto
Burla burlando van los tres delante.
" Yo pense que no hallara consonante
Y estoy a la mitad de otro quarteto ;
Mas si me veo en el primo terceto,
No ay cosa en los quartetos que me espante.
" Per el primo terceto voy entrando
Y aun parece que entre con pie derccho,
Pues fin con este verso le voy dando.
" Ya estoy en el segundo, y aun sospecho
Que voy los treze versos acabando
Contad si son catorze, y esta echo."
"IMITATION BY MR. RODERICK.
Capricious Wray a sonnet needs must have,
I ne'er was so put to't before, a sonnet !
Why fourteen verses must be spent upon it,
Tis good, howe'er, to have conquered the first stave.
CATAMARAN. 317
" Yet I shall ne'er find rhymes enough by half,
Said I ; and found myself in midst of the second :
If twice four verses were but fairly .reckoned,
I should turn back on the hardest part, and laugh.
" Thus far with good success, I think, I've scribbled,
And of the twice seven lines have clean got o'er ten;
Courage ! another '11 finish the first triplet.
Thanks to the Muse, my work begins to shorten,
There's thirteen lines got o'er driblet by driblet :
'Tis done ; count how you will, I'll warrant there's
fourteen." *
" I begin now to let loose my mind after Queeney
and Burney." Johnson, June 19, 1779.
They were learning Latin of him; but Dr. Burney
would not let his girl (Madam D'Arblay) go on : he
thought grammar too masculine a study for misses.
" I shall be in danger of crying out, with Mr. Head,
catamaran, whatever that may mean.'' Johnson.
A comical hack joke. Ask me, and I will tell you
one or two more tales about catamaran. Come ; here it
is : You do not hate nonsense with affected fastidious-
ness, or fastidious affectation, like those who have little
sense. Turn the page then, over.
This Mr. Head, whose real name was Plunkett, a
* These trifles are principally curious as showing what clever
people have thought clever. To borrow Johnson's words, many
men, many women, or many children might have written either of
the three.
318 MARGINAL NOTES.
low Irish parasite, dependant on Mr. Thrale primarily ;
and I suppose, secondarily on Mr. Murphy, was em-
ployed by them in various schemes of pleasure, as you
men call profligacy : and on this occasion was deputed
to amuse them by personating some lord, whom his
patrons had promised to .introduce to the beautiful Miss
(runnings when they first came over with intent to
make their fortunes. He was received accordingly, and
the girls played off their best airs, and cast kind looks
on his introducers from time to time: till the fellow
wearied, as Johnson says, and disgusted with his ill-acted
character, burst out on a sudden as they sate at tea,
and cried, " Catamaran! young gentlemen with two
shoes and never a heel : when will you have done with
silly jokes now ? Ledies ;" turning to the future peer-
esses, " never mind these merry boys ; but if you really
can afford to pay for some incomparable silk stockings,
or true India handkerchiefs, here they are now : " rum-
maging his smuggler's pocket; but the girls jumped up
and turned them all three into the street, where Thrale
and Murphy cursed their senseless assistant, and called
him Head, like lucus a non lucendo, because they
swore he had none. The duchess (of Hamilton),
however, never did forgive this impudent frolic ; Lady
Coventry, more prudently, pretended to forget it.
Catamaran ! was probably a mere Irish exclamation
which burst from the fellow when impatient to be sell-
ing his smuggled goods. There is exactly such a
character in Eichardson's " Clarissa : " Captain Tom-
linson, employed by Lovelace.
MRS. MONTAGUE. 319
" You and Mrs. must keep Mrs. about
you ; and try to make a wit of her. She will be a
little unskilful in her first essays ; but you will see
how precept and example will bring her forwards.
Surely it is very fine to have your powers. The
wits court you, and the Methodists love you, and the
whole world runs about you ; and you write me word
how well you can do without me : and so, go thy ways
poor Jack." Johnson, April 15, 1780.
The names are filled with those of Mrs. Montague
and Mrs. Byron. It would seem that Johnson was of
opinion with Sydney Smith, who contends in his lectures
that wit may be acquired like other talents or accom-
plishments.
" But and you have had, with all your adula-
tions, nothing finer said of you than was said last
Saturday night of Burke and me. We were at the
Bishop of 's, a bishop little better than your
bishop ; and towards twelve we fell into talk, to which
the ladies listened, just as they do to you ; and said, as
I heard, there is no rising unless somebody will cry
fire:' Johnson, May, 23, 1780.
The lady was Mrs. Montague ; Johnson's bishop
was the Bishop of St. Asaph (Shipley) ; Mrs. P.'s, the
Bishop of Peterborough (Hinchliffe).
Mrs. Piozzi replies : "I have no care about enjoying
undivided empire, nor any thoughts of disputing it
with Mrs. Montagu. She considers her title as indis-
putable most probably, though I am sure I never heard
320 MARGINAL NOTES.
her urge it. Queen Elizabeth, you remember, would
not suffer hers to be inquired into, and I have read
somewhere that the Great Mogul is never crowned."
In a postscript she says : " Apropos to gallantry, here
is a gentleman hooted out of Bath for showing a lady's
loveletters to him ; and such is the resentment of all
the females, that even the house-maid refused to make
his bed. I think them perfectly right, as he has broken
all the common ties of society ; and if he were to sleep
on straw for half a year instead of pur old favourites
the Capucin friars, it would do him no harm, and set
the men a good example."
In the margin is written " Mr. Wade."
" Gluttony is, I think, less common among women
than among men. Women commonly eat more spa-
ringly, and are less curious in the choice of meat ; but
if once you find a woman gluttonous, expect from her
very little virtue. Her mind is enslaved to the lowest
and grossest temptation.
"Of men, the examples are sufficiently common. I
had a friend, of great eminence in the learned and
the witty world, who had hung up some pots on his
wall to furnish nests for sparrows. The poor sparrows,
not knowing his character, were seduced by the con-
venience, and I never heard any man speak of any
future enjoyment with such contortions of delight as he
exhibited, when he talked of eating the young ones."
Johnson.
The name of Isaac Hawkins Browne is written in
STONEHENGE. LADY KEITH. 321
the margin, and it is added that the young sparrows
were eaten in a pie.
Stonehenge. I saw Stonehenge once before this
letter was written, in company of my father, who said
it was Druidical : I saw it again seven years or more,
ten years perhaps, in company of my second husband,
and I saw it with Miss Thrales in June, 1784. I
fancy it was Saxon for my own part ; a monument to
the valour of Hengist. It is Stone Henge.
" Mrs. Davenant says, that you regain your health.
That you regain your health is more than a common
recovery ; because I infer, that you regain your peace
of mind. Settle your thoughts and controul your im-
agination, and think no more of Hesperian felicity.
Gather yourself and your children into a little system,
in which each may promote the ease, the safety, and
pleasure of the rest." Johnson.
Mrs. D'Avenant neither knew nor cared, as she
wanted her brother Harry Cotton to marry Lady Keith,
and I offered my estate with her. Miss Thrale said she
wished to have nothing to do either with my family or
my fortune. They were all cruel and all insulting.
"DEAR SIR, Communicate your letters regularly.
Your father's inexorability not only grieves but amazes
me. He is your father. He was always accounted a
wise man; nor do I remember any thing to the dis-
advantage of his good nature; but in his refusal to
VOL. I. Y
322 MARGINAL NOTES.
assist you, there is neither good nature, fatherhood, nor
wisdom." Johnson.
I think you will be surprised to hear that this so
serious letter should have been written to the crazy
fellow, of whom a ludicrous story is told in the " Anec-
dotes " : Joe Simson, as Doctor Johnson called him, when
he related the ridiculous incidents of his marriage, his
kept mistress, his footman, and himself; all getting so
drunk with the nuptial bowl of punch, purchased with
borrowed money : that the hero of the tale tumbled
down stairs and broke his leg or arm, I forget which,
and sent for Doctor Johnson to assist him. He had
another friend of much the same description, though
this gentleman was a lawyer : the other, a poet. .
Boyce was the author of some pretty things in the
" Gentleman's Magazine," and Johnson showed me the
following verses in manuscript, which I translated :
but which are not half so pleasant as was his account
of Mr. Boyce lying a-bed: not for lack of a shirt,
because he seldom wore one ; supplying the want with
white paper wristbands : but for want of his scarlet
cloak, laced with gold, his usual covering ; which lay
unredeemed at the pawnbrokers. The verses were ad-
dressed to Cave, of St. John's Gate, who saved him
from prison that time at least :
" Hodie, teste Ccelo summo
Sine pane, sine nummo ;
Sorte positus infeste
Scribo tibi dolens mseste :
JOE SIMSON AND BOYCE. 323
Fame, bile, tamet jecur,
Urbane ! mitte opem precor :
Tibi enim cor humanum
Non a mails alienum ;
Mihi mens nee male grato,
Pro a te favore dato.
Ex gehenna debitoria,
Vulgo, domo spongiatoria."
Oh witness Heaven for me this day
That I've no pelf my debts to pay :
No bread, nor halfpenny to buy it,
No peace of mind or household quiet.
My liver swell'd with bile and hunger
Will burst me if I wait much longer.
Thou hast a heart humane they say,
Oh then a little money pray.
Nor further press me on my fate
And fix me at the begging grate :
Sufficient in this hell to souse
Vulgarly called a sponging house.
Of this curious creature I have heard Johnson tell
how he remained fasting three whole days : and at the
end when his consoling friend brought him a nice beef-
steak, how he refused to touch it till the dish (he had
no plate) had been properly rubbed over with shalot.
" What inhabitants this world has in it ! "
" You were kind in paying my forfeits at the club ;
Y 2
324 MARGINAL NOTES.
it cannot be expected that many should meet in the
summer, however they that continue in town should
keep up appearances as well as they can. I hope to be
again among you." Johnson.
There is a story of poor dear Grarrick, whose atten-
tion to his money-stuff never forsook him relating
that when his last day was drawing to an end, he
begged a gentleman present to pay his club forfeits,
" and don't let them cheat you," added he, " for there
cannot be above nine, and they will make out ten."
At the end of the second volume of " Letters " are
printed several translations from Boethius, the joint
performances of Dr. Johnson and Mrs. Piozzi. She has
written on the last leaf :
Book 3rd, Metre 7, being completely my own, I
would not print, though Dr. Johnson commended my
doing it so well, and said he could not make it either
more close or more correct :
That pleasure leaves a parting pain
Her veriest votaries maintain ;
Soon she deposits all her sweets,
Soon like the roving bee retreats,
Hasty, like her, she mounts on wing,
And, like her, leaves th' envenomed sting.
In reference to the second line in this couplet :
Fondly view'd his following bride,
Viewing lost, and losing died,
UNCONSCIOUS PLAGIARISM. 325
she remarks :
And this beautiful line, which I saw hi/m compose,
" you will find," said I, " in Fletcher's Bonduca." " Im-
possible," replies Dr. Johnson, " I never read a play of
Beaumont and Fletcher's in my life." This passed in
South wark : when we went to Streatham Park, I took
down the volume and showed him the line.
There is an allusion to this incident in the " Thra-
liana," and the entry is an additional illustration of the
variety of her knowledge and the tenacity of her me-
mory. It refers to Dr. Parker's complimentary verses
describing an imaginary request of Apollo to the Graces
and Muses to admit her of their number, and con-
cluding with these lines :
" Henceforth acknowledge every pen
The Graces four, the Muses ten"
For a long time (she writes) I thought this conceit
original, but it is not. There is an old Greek epigram
only of two lines which the doctor has here spun into
length (vide " Anthol." lib. 7), and there is some ac-
count of it too in Bonhours.
What, however, is much more extraordinary, is that
the famous Tristram Shandy itself is not absolutely ori-
ginal ; for when I was at Derby in the summer of 1744,
I strolled by mere chance into a bookseller's shop,
where however I could find nothing to tempt curiosity
but a strange book about Corporal Bates, which I
bought and read for want of better sport, and found
it to be the very novel from which Sterne took his first
idea. The character of Uncle Toby, the behaviour of
T 3
326 MARGINAL NOTES.
Corporal Trim, even the name of Tristram itself, seems
to be borrowed from this stupid history of Corporal
Bates, forsooth. I now wish I had pursued Mr. Mur-
phy's advice of marking down all passages from different
books which strike, by their resemblance to each other,
as fast as they fell in my way ; for one forgets again in
the hurry and tumult of life's cares and pleasures, al-
most everything that one does not commit to paper.
The verses written by Bentley upon Learning, and
published in Dodsley's Miscellanies, how like they are
to Evelyn's verses on Virtue, published in Dryden's
Miscellanies I yet I do not suppose them a plagiarism.
Old Bentley would have scorned such tricks ; besides,
what passed once between myself and Mr. Johnson
should cure me of suspicion in these cases.
327
NOTES ON WRAXALL'S "HISTORICAL MEMOIRS
OF MY OWN TIME."
I SEND Wraxall with the quartos, that you may read
something written of your poor friend as well as some-
thing written by her. His book will be a relief when
you get into the dark ages of " Retrospection." Mrs.
Piozzi to Sir James Fellowes.
Her note on WraxalPs statement relating to Marie
Antoinette's first confinement is :
You see how cautious Sir N. Wraxall is but you
may likewise see through his caution. He knew no
doubt better than myself, that about this time a swathed
baby made of white marble was laid at the bed chamber
door, with this inscription:
" Je ne suis point de Cire subintelligitur Sire,
Je suis de pierre subintelligur Pierre."
A Life Guard Man as I was informed.
The Dauphin, who died very young, and the other,
who lived to suffer still more whom every one pities,
are mentioned in the 2nd vol., but I can't find the place
now. Us etoient vrais Descendans de Louis XIV.,
mais comment ? Juste Ciel I
T 4
328 MARGINAL NOTES.
In reference to Wraxall's description of the celebrated
women of the day, she has pasted in (besides the verses
Vol. I. p. 49), copies of the following :
THE PLANETS.
(Said to be written by Charles Fox.)
With Devon's girl so blythe and gay,
I well could like to sport and play;
With Jersey would the time beguile,
With Melbourne titter, sneer and smile,
With Bouverie one would wish to sin,
With Darner I could only grin :
But to them all I'd bid adieu,
To pass my life and think with Crewe.
THE PLEIADES.
(Said to be written by Mr. Chamberlayne, who threw himself out
of the window.)
With charming Cholmondeley well one might
Pass half the day, and all the night ;
From Montague's more fertile mind
Perpetual source of pleasures find :
Of Tully's Latin, Homer's Greek,
With learned Carter one could speak ;
With Thrale converse in purest ease,
Of letters, life, and languages.
But if I dare to talk with Crewe,
My ease, my peace, my heart adieu !
NOTES ON WRAXALL. 329
Sweet Grreville 1 whose too feeling heart
By love was once betrayed,
With Sappho's ardour, Sappho's art,
For cool indifference prayed :
Who can endure a prayer from you
So selfish and confined?
You should when you produced a Crewe,
Have prayed for all mankind.
The verses on Henrietta de Coligny, Comtesse de la
Suze, are quoted by Wraxall :
Quae Dea sublimi vehitur per inania curru ?
An Juno, an Pallas, an Venus ipsa venit ?
Si genus inspicias, Juno : si scripta, Minerva :
Si spectes oculos, Mater Amoris erit.
They are thus paraphrased in a marginal note by
Mrs. Piozzi :
Her birth examined, Juno we discern,
Her learning not Minerva's self denies :
From such perfections dazzled should I turn,
But that Love's mother laughs in both her eyes.
Note. When the King of Sweden was murdered in
a ballroom, by Ankerstroom, about the year 1792, there
was a comically impudent caricature published repre-
senting Ofeorge the Third, with a letter in his hand
and a label out of his mouth, saying, What, what, what I
Shot, shot, shot !
330 MARGINAL NOTES.
" The last Princess of the Stuart line who reigned in
this country, has been accused of a similar passion (for
drink), if we may believe the secret history of tha^lime,
or trust to the couplet which was affixed to the pedestal
of her statue in front of St. Paul's, by the satirical wits
of 1714."
Note. Brandy-faced Nan has left us in the lurch,
Her face to the brandy shop, and her to the church.
VERSES ON CATHERINE OF RUSSIA.
Elle fit oublier par un esprit sublime
D' un pouvoir odieux les enormes abus ;
Et sur un trone acquis par le crime
Elle se maintint par les vertus.
Her dazzling reign so brightly shone
Few sought to mark the crimes they courted ;
Whilst on her ill acquired throne,
She sate by virtue's self supported.
" The Countess Cowper was at this time distinguished
by his (the Grand Duke Leopold's) attachment; and
the exertion of his interest with Joseph the Second
his brother, procured her husband, Lord Cowper, to be
created soon afterwards a Prince of the German
Empire." Wraxall.
Note. She was beautiful when no longer a court
favourite, in 1786. Her attachment was then to Mr.
Merry, the highly accomplished poet, known afterwards-
by name of Delia Crusca.
NOTES ON WRAXALL. 331
"In 1779, Charles Edward exhibited to the world a
very humiliating spectacle." Wraxall.
N*te. Still more so at Florence, in 1786. Count
Alfieri had taken away his consort, and he was under
the dominion and care of a natural daughter, who wore
the Garter, and was called Duchess of Albany. She
checked him when he drank too much, or when he
talked too much. Poor soul ! Though one evening,
he called Mr. Greatheed up to him, and said in good
English, and a loud though cracked voice : ' I will
speak to my own subjects my own way, sare. Ay,
and I will soon speak to you, Sir, in Westminster
Hall.' The Duchess shrugged her shoulders.
" It was universally believed that he (Eodney) had
been distinguished in his youth, by the personal at-
tachment of the Princess Amelia, daughter of George
the Second, who displayed the same partiality for
Eodney, which her cousin, the Princess Amelia of
Prussia, manifested for Trenck. A living evidence of
the former connexion existed, unless fame had recourse
to fiction for support. But, detraction, in every age,
from Elizabeth down to the present times, has not
spared the most illustrious females." Wraxall.
Note. Meaning, I suppose, the famous Miss Ashe,
who, after many adventures, married Captain Falkner
of the Eoyal Navy. She was a pretty creature, but par-
ticularly small in her person. Little Miss Ashe was the
name she went by, yet I should think Eodney scarce
332 MARGINAL NOTES.
old enough to have been her father. Her mother,
people spoke of, as with certainty.
THE LYTTELTON GHOST STORY.
"Lyttelton, when scarcely thirty-six, breathed his
last at a country house near Epsom, called Pit Place,
from its situation in a chalk pit ; where he witnessed,
as he conceived, a supernatural appearance." Wraxall.
Note. He did so : but here the author must par-
don me, and so must you, dear Sir, if I presume to
say I can tell this tale better ; meaning with more ex-
actness, for truth constitutes the whole of its value.
Lord Westcote and Lord Sandys both told it thus,
and they were familiar intimates at Streatham Park -
where now their portraits hang in my library.
Lord Lyttelton was in London, and was gone to
bed I think upon a Thursday night. He rang his bell
suddenly and with great violence, and his valet on
entering found him much disordered, protesting he had
been, or had fancied himself, plagued with a white
bird fluttering within his curtains. " When, however,
(continued he) I seemed to have driven her away, a
female figure stood at my feet in long drapery, and
said * Prepare to die, my Lord, you'll soon be called.'
"How soon? how soon?" said I, "in three years?"
c Three years,' replied she, tauntingly, * three days,'
and vanished." Williams the man servant related this
to his friends of course ; and the town talk was all about
NOTES ON WRAXALL. 333
Lord Lyttelton's dream ; he himself ran to his uncle
with it, to Lord Westcote ; who confessed having re-
proved him pretty sharply for losing time in the inven-
tion of empty stories (such he accounted it), instead
of thinking about the speech he was to make a few
days after.
Lord Sandys was milder ; saying, " My dear fellow,
if you believe this strange occurrence, and would have
us believe it; be persuaded to change your conduct,
and give up that silly frolic which you told us of. I
mean going next Sunday was it not ? to Woodcote ;
but I suppose 'tis only one of your wondrous fine de-
vices to make us plain folks stare : so drink a dish of
chocolate and talk of something else."
On Saturday, after we had talked this over at
Streatham Park, a lady late from Wales dropt in, and
told us she had been at Drury Lane last night. " How
were you entertained?" said I; "Very strangely in-
deed" was the reply ; " not with the play though, for I
scarce knew what they acted but with the discourse of
Captain Ascough or Askew so his companions called
him who averred that a friend of his, the profligate
Lord Lyttelton, as I understood by them, had certainly
seen a spirit, who has warned him that he is to die with-
in the next three days, and I have thought of nothing
else ever since."
No further accounts reached Streatham Park till
Monday morning, when every tongue was telling how a
Mrs. Flood and two Miss Amphlets, demirep beauties,
had passed over Westminster Bridge by the earliest
33* MARGINAL NOTES.
hour, looking like corpses from illness occasioned by
terror, and escorted by this Captain Ascough to town.
The man Williams' constant and unvarying tale tallied
with his, who said, they had been passing the time
appointed in great gayety ; some other girls and gen-
tlemen of the country having in some measure joined
the party for dinner only, but leaving these before
midnight. That on Sunday Lord Lyttelton drew out
his watch at eleven o'clock, and said, " Well, now I
must leave you, agreeable as all of you are ; because I
mean to meditate on the next Wednesday's speech, and
have actually brought some books with me." " Oh, but
the ghost ! the ghost !" exclaimed one of Miss Amphlets
laughing. " Oh, don't you see that we have bilked the
bitch" says Lord Lyttelton, showing his watch, and run-
ning from them up stairs, where Williams had set out
the reading table, &c., and put his master on the yellow
night gown, which he always used. Lord Lyttelton
then said, " Make up my five grains of rhubarb and
peppermint water and leave me ; but, did you remem-
ber to bring rolls enough from London ? " " I brought
none, my Lord ; I have found a baker here at Epsom
that makes them just as your Lordship likes" describ-
ing how and stirring the mixture as he spoke.
" What are you using ? " cries my Lord " a toothpick ! "
" A clean one, indeed, my Lord." " You lazy devil go
fetch a spoon directly;" he did so ; but heard a noise
in the room and hastened back, to find his master
fallen over the table, books and all. He raised him ;
" Speak to me, my Lord speak for God's sake, dear
NOTES ON WRAXALL. 335
my Lord." " Ah, Williams ! " was his last and only word.
Williams ran down to the dissolute company below, his
watch in his hand. " Not twelve o'clock yet? he ex-
claimed, " and dead dead."
They all bore witness that no violence came near
the man, and I do think that some judicial process
then proclaimed him "Dead by the visitation of Grod."
This, however, might be my hearing those words from
friends and acquaintances relating the incident; but
when it was reported twenty years after, that Lord
Lyttelton committed suicide, I knew that was an error,
or a falsity.
Of this event, however, few people spoke after the
first bustle ; and I had changed my situation and asso-
ciates so completely, that it lay loose in my mind
never forgotten, though in a manner unremembered.
Chance, however, threw me into company of the
gay and facetious Miles Peter Andrews, with whom and
Mr. Grreatheed's family, and Mrs. Siddons, and Sir
Charles Hotham, and a long et cetera, an entertaining
day had been passed sometime in the year 1795, if I
remember rightly ; and Mrs. Merrick Hoare, assuming
intimacy, said, "Now, dear Mr. Andrews, that the
Pigous are gone, and everybody is gone but ourselves,
do tell my mother your own story of Lord Lyttelton."
He hesitated, and I pressed him, urging my long past
acquaintance with his Lordship's uncles the bishop
and Lord Westcote. He looked uneasily at me, but I
soothed, and Sophia gave him no quarter ; so with some-
thing of an appeal to her that the tale would be as she
had learned it from her friends the Pigous, and from
336 MARGINAL NOTES.
himself, he began by saying : " Lord Lyttelton and I
had lived long in great familiarity, and had agreed that
whichever quitted this world first should visit the other.
Neither of us being sick, however, such thoughts were
at the time of his death, poor fellow ! furthest from
my mind.
" Lord Lyttelton had asked me to make one of his
mad party to Woodcote or Pitt Place, in Surrey, on
such a day, but I was engaged to the Pigous you saw
this evening, and could not go. They then lived in
Hertfordshire ; I went down thither on the Sunday,
and dined with them and their very few, and very
sober friends, who went away in the evening. At eleven
o'clock I retired to my apartment : it was broad moon-
light and I put out my candle : when just as I seemed
dropping asleep, Lord Lyttelton thrust himself between
the curtains, dressed in his own yellow night gown that
he used to read in, and said in a mournful tone, * Ah,
Andrews, if a all over'.'' { Oh,' replied I quickly, ' are
you there, you dog ?' and recollecting there was but one
door to the room, rushed out at it locked it, and held
the key in my hand, calling to the housekeeper and
butler, whose voices I heard putting the things away,
to ask when Lord Lyttelton arrived, and what trick
he was meditating. The servants made answer with
much amazement, that no such arrival had taken place ;
but I assured them I had seen, and spoken to him, and
could produce him, ' for here,' said I, f he is ; under fast
lock and key.' We opened the door,- and found no one,
but in two or three days heard that he died at that very
moment, near Epsom in Surrey."
NOTES OX WKAXALL. 337
"After a pause, I said very seriously to Mr. An-
drews, * Were you quite sober, Sir ? ' * As you are now,'
replied he ; * and I did think I saw Lord Lyttelton as I
now think that I see you.' * Did think, Sir ? do you now
think it ? ' * I should most undoubtedly think it, but
that so many people for so many years have told me I
did not see him,' said he. We made a few serious re-
flections and parted."
In reference to Wraxall's appeal to the confirmatory
testimony of the Dowager Lady Lyttelton, she adds :
"Lady Lyttelton's imagination was supposed stronger
than her veracity. She was scouted (as the coarse
phrase is) by the family, and with good talents was, I
fear, little esteemed by any one, though daughter to Sir
Robert Rich, and had been pretty."
" ' A day or two before the 7th of June,' said he,
' Count Maltzan, then the Prussian Minister at our
Court, called on me, and informed me that the mob
had determined to attack the Bank.' " Wraxall.
Note. The foreigners always obtain the first intelli-
gence of everything. It was the Marquis del Campo who
himself informed the Queen of Peg Nicholson's attempt
to assassinate George the Third. And one of the
Ministers of a foreign Court was first to learn the me-
ditated escape of Buonaparte from Elba. *
* This is far from clear. The Duke of Wellington told Rogers
that he got the first intelligence from the English minister at
Florence. It is one of the most curious cases of conflicting
evidence that can be named. See the Edinburgh Review, No. 227.
(July 1860), pp. 235, 236.
VOL. I. Z
338 MARGINAL NOTES.
" Suspicions were thrown on the Earl of Shelburne,
probably with great injustice. The natural expectation
of producing a change in Ministry, was imagined to
suspend or supersede in certain minds, every other
consideration ; and it was even pretended, though on
very insufficient grounds, that Peers did not scruple to
take an active part in the worst excesses of the night
of the 7th of June."* Wraxall.
Note. A man remarkable for duplicity will be
always suspected whether deserving suspicion or no.
Gainsborough drew Lord Shelburne's portrait : my Lord
complained it was not like. The painter said " he did
not approve it, and begged to try again." Failing this
time, however, he flung away his pencil saying, " D
it, I never could see through varnish, and there's an
end."
" Sir Fletcher Norton, though perhaps justly accused,
as a professional man, of preferring profit to conscien-
tious delicacy of principle; and though denominated
in the coarse satires or caricatures of that day, by the
epithet of * Sir Bullface Doublefee ; ' yet possessed emi-
nent parliamentary, as well as legal talents." Wraxall.
Note. One of which I remember, except the second
line, which is not exact:
* It was a current story, which I have heard Lord Macaulay
relate, that the late Right Honourable T. Grenville was with a
party that broke into the Admiralty, and that the second time he
entered it was as First Lord.
NOTES ON WRAXALL. 339
*' Careless of censure, and no fool to fame,
Firm in his double post and double fees;
Sir Fletcher standing without fear or shame,
Pockets the cash, and let's them laugh that please.
" So on a market day, stands Whatley's bear,
In spite of all their noise and hurly burley ;
Fixed on his double post, secure in air,
Munching his bunch of grapes, and looking surly."
The Bear at Devizes was then kept by one Whatley,
and stood upon a monstrous double signpost high up
in the air, when some wag wrote these verses with a
diamond on the window of an eating-room belonging
to the inn. They were taken of course into everybody's
scrap book, or everybody's memory.
Note on George the Third. When the present King
was quite a lad, there was a young fellow about the
Prince's Court, who being thought natural son to my
uncle Robert, was petted and provided for in some
manner by the family, and used to visit familiarly at
my mother's ; who said that he told her how one day
the two eldest boys were playing in the Princess's
apartment, when the second said suddenly, " Brother,
when you and I are men grown, you shall marry a
wife and I'll keep a mistress." " What you say there ?
you naughty boy," exclaimed the mother, " You better
to learn your pronouns as preceptor bid you ; I believe
you not know what it is a pronoun."
Z 2
340 MARGINAL NOTES.
" Be quiet, Eddy," says the King ; " we shall have
anger presently for your nonsense. Fletcher ! (to my
courtier cousin) give us the books." " Let them alone,"
cries Prince Edward; "I know what it is without a
book : a pronoun is to a noun what a mistress is to a
wife a substitute and a representative." The Princess
burst out o' laughing and turned them all out of the
room.
Prince Edward was the Duke of York, who died at
Monaco in Italy
Mrs. Crewe and Mrs. Bouverie. The two fashion-
able belles about the Court and town had been
painted by Reynolds in character of two shepherd-
esses, with a pensive air as if appealing to each
other, about the year 1770, or perhaps earlier ; and
there was written under the picture : " Et in Arcadia
ego." When the Exhibition was arranging, the mem-
bers and their friends went and looked the works over ;
" What can this mean ? " said Dr. Johnson ; " it seems
very nonsensical / am in Arcadia." " Well ! what
of that ! The King could have told you," replied the
painter. " He saw it yesterday, and said at once, ' Oh,
there is a tombstone in the back-ground. Ay, ay,
death is even in Arcadia.' "
The thought is borrowed from Poussin; where the
gay frolickers stumble over a death's head, with a scroll
proceeding from his mouth, saying, " Et in Arcadia ego."
'Tis said that those who seek one thing, often find
a better which was not the primary object of their
KOTES ON 'WRAXALL. 341
search. Queen Caroline looked for popular applause,
and gained private esteem. In pursuit of her original
desire to please every one who was presented, however,
she made herself acquainted with the well-known events
in English History ; and having been told that a Derby-
shire baronet, Sir Woolston Dixie, lived near the spot
where Richard the Third lost his life and crown, readily
adverted to that occurrence, and when his name was
mentioned, said " Oh, Sir ! it has been related to me
your connexion with Bosworth Field and the memor-
able battle fought there." The gentleman's face, even
redder than before, swelled with indignation, till at
last he broke out with no very decorous vehemence
of protestation, that all her Majesty had heard con-
cerning it was false and groundless ; and that he
would find a way to make those repent who had filled
the ears of his Sovereign with such gross untruths.
" Grod forgive my great sin ! " cried the astonished Prin-
cess ; and Sir Woolston Dixie left the drawing-room in
an agony scarce to be described.
The misintelligence, as the French call it, was oc-
casioned by the baronet's utter ignorance of historic
literature. He was a brutal fellow, and having as-
saulted a tinker some day crossing Bosworth Field, the
tinker laid down his tools and beat him severely ; which
his merry neighbours heard with pleasure, and called
this luckless encounter, naturally enough, The Battle
of Bosworth : while poor Sir Woolston, having never
heard of any other contest in the place, except his own,
z 3
342 MARGINAL NOTES.
made no doubt but that the Queen had heard of his dis-
grace, and took that opportunity to ridicule him for it.
I must add, that such instances of gross ignorance
in country gentlemen were not as now incompatible
with birth, rank, or fortune ; I mean in the days when
Caroline of Anspach canvassed her drawing-room at
St. James's.
Lady Archibald Hamilton formed during many years,
the object of Frederick's avowed, and particular attach-
ment.
She was mother to Archdeacon Hamilton, who lived
his last years and died in the Circus here at Bath. He
was very unhappy in his family ; and when one observed
accidentally on another friend's ill-fortune " has he
three children?" says poor Hamilton; "and are they
like mine?"* His mother was the Delamira of the
" Tatler." His daughter is the Countess of Aldborough.
" The inglorious naval engagement in the Mediter-
ranean, between Byng and La Galissoniere, for his con-
duct in which the former of those admirals suffered."
Wraxall.
Note. See " Eetrospection," 2nd vol., page 423,
near the bottom. I had more grace than to name my
own father and uncle in a quarto volume meant for
public view ; but I may tell you thus privately, and
* " What, have his daughters brought him to this pass ? "
Lear.
NOTES ON WRAXALL. 343
after more than half a century has past, how my uncle
(who was then judge of the Admiralty) felt affected,
when the old Duke of Newcastle wrung him by the
hand and said, " My dear Sir Thomas, England has
seen her best days. We are all undone. This d
fellow has done for us, and all is over."
" The Treasury, the Admiralty, the War Office, all
obeyed his (the first Pitt's) orders with prompt and
implicit submission. Lord Anson and the Duke of
Newcastle, sometimes, it is true, remonstrated, and
often complained ; but always finished by compliance."
Wraxall.
Note. Their compliance was submission of the most
unqualified kind, and the patience with which they
waited in the anti-room, while Mr. Pitt was examining
some machinery brought for his inspection by Nuttal
the engine maker in Long Acre, was truly laughable.
"All circumstances fully weighed, my own convic-
tion is, that the Letters of * Junius ' were written by
the Right Honourable William Gerard Hamilton com-
monly designated by the nickname of ' Single Speech
Hamilton.' " Wraxall.
Note. So it is mine. I well remember when they
were most talked of and N. Seward said, "How the
arrows of Junius were sure to wound, and likely to stick."
" Yes, Sir," replied Dr. Johnson ; " yet let us distinguish
between the venom of the shaft, and the vigour of the
bow." At which expression Mr. Hamilton's counten-
z 4
344 MARGINAL NOTES.
ance fell in a manner that to me betrayed the author.
Johnson repeated the expression in his next pamphlet
and Junius wrote no more.
Note. Lord Thurlow was storming one day at his
old valet, who thought little of a violence with which he
had been long familiar, and " Go to the devil do," cries
the enraged master ; " Go, I say, to the devil." " Give
me a character, my Lord," replied the fellow, drily ;
" people like, you know, to have characters from their
acquaintance."
" The expression of his (the first Lord Liverpool's)
countenance, I find it difficult to describe." Wraxall.
Note. It was very peculiar, but he was a delightful
companion in social life. I know few people whose
conversation was more pleasingly diversified with fact
and sentiment, narration and reflection, than that of the
first Lord Liverpool.
" ' Charles Fox,' observed he (Mr. Boothby) ' is un-
questionably a man of first-rate talents, but so deficient
in judgment, as never to have succeeded in any object
during his whole life. He loved only three things ;
women, play, and politics. Yet, at no period, did he
ever form a creditable connexion with a woman. He
lost his whole fortune at the gaming-table ; and with
the exception of about eleven months, he has remained
always in Opposition.' It is difficult to dispute the
justice of this portrait." Wraxall.
Note. He preferred Mrs. (now Lady) Crewe, to all
NOTES ON WRAXALL. 343
women living, but Lady Crewe never lost an atom of
character I mean female honour. She loved high
play and dissipation, but was no sensualist.
Note. Lord Sandwich came very early into a very
small paternal estate ; and his first entrance into life
was marked by an apparently warm disposition towards
virtue. He was, however, avowedly poor and proud ;
said that Sir Eobert Walpole possessed no powers of
gaining him over from the opposition party, whilst he
was contented to live with the woman of his heart in a
small house somewhere about Westminster, and walk to
the House arm-in-arm with one friend, for whose opi-
nions he had the highest deference. Sir Robert laughed,
and only said, " We shall see how all this ends."
The Countess, though forty-four years old when
Lord Sandwich came of age and could not be persuaded
to forbear pursuing her, brought him a son, which
cost her future health, and with her health that flexi-
bility of temper, which before marriage he deemed her
possessed of. But,
" To win a man when all our pains succeed,
The way to keep him is a task indeed."
Virtue and sense were soon found insufficient, joined
to a faded form and fretted mind, wherein resided
sullen disapprobatipn of all that frolic playfulness to
which her lord was naturally prone, and which his
interested friend taught him to consider as innocent,
even when combined with late hours, loose company,
346 MARGINAL NOTES.
and sometimes higher play than he could afford; al-
though Lord Sandwich never was a rated gamester like
Fox, or Fitzpatrick, &c. Ill received at home, how-
ever, his pleasures drew him thence, and they, growing
hourly more and more expensive, as his friend's amuse-
ments were all placed to his account.
The Minister felt happy to provide for both, and
this young nobleman owed to his wife's stern virtue,
and his companion's insidious indulgences, a character
no man but Churchill could pourtray no man, I hope
besides himself, deserve :
" Is God's most holy name to be profan'd ?
His Word rejected, and his laws arraign'd :
His servants scorn'd as men who idly dream' d,
His service laugh'd at ; His dread Son blasphem'd ?
Is science by a scoundrel to be led ?
Are States to totter on a drunkard's head ?
Search earth, search hell, the Devil cannot find
An agent like Lothario to his mind."
The end of such men (with regard to this life) is
safer to imagine than describe. When talents, though
they can't protect, reproach their mad possessors, and
conscience, which congratulates the good man's exit,
lighting his last steps with her hallowed taper :
" Turns to a fury with a naming torch,
Quickly extinguished in mephitic gloom ! "
Oh ! let us, to use a phrase of Shakespear, siueeten
our imaginations : and forgetting such characters,
NOTES ON WRAXALL. 347
rather recollect Doddridge's Epigram upon his own
motto :
"Dum vivimus, vivamus."
" Live while you live, the epicure will say,
And give to pleasure ev'ry passing day ;
Live while you live, the sacred preacher cries,
And give to God each moment as it flies :
Lord ! in my views, let both united be !
I live to pleasure whilst I live to Thee."
Now as a note to the third or fourth line of
Churchill's verses, accept the following true anecdote :
Lord Sandwich had trained up a huge baboon that
he was fond of, to play the part of a clergyman, dressed
in canonicals, and make some buffoon imitation of say-
ing grace. Among many merry friends round the table,
sat a Mr. Scott, afterwards well known by name of
Antisejanus; but then a mere dependent servitor at
college, and humble play-fellow of young Hinchinbroke.
The ape had no sooner finished his grimaces, and taken
leave of the company, than Scott unexpectedly, but un-
abashed, stood up and said :
" I protest, my lord, I intended doing this duty
myself, not knowing till now, that your lordship had so
near a relation in orders" *
* At a supper of the Hell-fire Club, a chair was left vacant at
the head of the table for the Devil. In the height of the revelry,
the ape unexpectedly took his seat upon it, and the company, con-
ceiving the Spirit of Evil to be among them, broke up in most
admired confusion.
348 MARGINAL NOTES.
1 must add that Lord Sandwich praised his wit and
courage without ever resenting the liberty.
He had founded a society, denominated from his
own name, " The Franciscans," who, to the number of
twelve, met at Medmenham Abbey, near Marlow, in
Bucks, on the banks of the Thames.
The best account of these horrors, and the least
offensive, is in " Chrysal ; or, the Adventures of a
Guinea," written by Smollet.
" Beauclerc discovered him (Fox) intently engaged
in reading a Greek Herodotus. * What would you have
me do,' said he, ' I have lost my last shilling ! ' Such
was the elasticity, suavity, and equality of disposition
that characterised him ; and with so little effort did he
pass from profligate dissipation to researches of taste or
literature." Wraxall.
Note. I have heard this story before, and believe it
is true. Topham Beauclerc (wicked and profligate as
he wished to be accounted) was yet a man of very strict
veracity. Oh Lord ! how I did hate that horrid Beau-
clerc !
" If Burke really believed the facts that he laid down
(regarding the American war), what are we to think of
his judgment ! " Wraxall.
Note. Burke troubled himself but little to think on
what he had said ; he spoke for present and immediate
effect, rarely if ever missing his aim ; because, like Doctor
NOTES ON WRAXALL. 349
Johnson, he always spoke his best, whether on great or
small occasions. One evening at Sir Joshua Reynolds'
it was his humour to harangue in praise of the then
ceded islands, and in their praise he said so much, that
Mrs. Horneck, a widow with two beautiful daughters,
resolved to lose no time in purchasing where such ad-
vantages would infallibly arise. She did so, and lost a
large portion of her slender income. " Dear Sir," said
I, when we met next, " how fatal has your eloquence
proved to poor Mrs. Horneck ! " " How fatal her own
folly ! " replied he ; " Ods my life, must one swear to
the truth of a song."
To Wraxall's remark that Burke's Irish accent was
as strong as if he had never quitted the banks of the
Shannon, she adds, " very true." The description of
him as " gentle, mild, and amenable to argument in
private society," is qualified by, " not very ; " and in
the sentence, " infinitely more respectable than Fox, he
was nevertheless far less amiable," she proposes to re-
place " amiable " by " respected."
" It is difficult to do justice to the peculiar species of
ugliness which characterised his (Dunning) person and
figure, although he did not labour under any absolute
deformity of shape or limb." Wraxall.
Rote. Sir Joshua alone could give a good portrait
of Dunning. His picture of Lord Shelburne, Lord
Ashburton, and Colonel Barre, has surely no superior.
The characters so admirable, the likenesses so strong."
Of the first Lord Loughborough she writes :
350 MARGINAL NOTES.
Wedderburn was particularly happy when speak-
ing of Franklyn, who (he said) the Ministers had
wantonly and foolishly made their enemy. An enemy
so inveterate, said he, so merciless, and so implacable,
that he resembles Zanga the Moor, in Young's tragedy
of the " Revenge," who at length ends his hellish plot
by saying:
t( I forg'd the letter, and dispos'd the picture,
I hated, I despis'd, and I destroy."
The quotation struck everyone.*
Benjamin Franklyn, who, by bringing a spark from
Heaven, fulfilled the prophecies he pretended to dis-
believe ; Franklyn, who wrote a profane addition to
the Book of Genesis, who hissed on the colonies against
their parent country, who taught men to despise their
Sovereign and insult their Redeemer ; who did all the
mischief in his power while living, and at last died, I
think, in America ; was beside all the rest, a plagiarist,
as it appears ; and the curious epitaph made on himself,
and as we long believed, by himself, was, I am in-
formed, borrowed without acknowledgment, from one,
upon Jacob Tonson, to whom it was more appropriate,
comparing himself to an old book, eaten by worms ;
which on some future day, however, should be new
edited, after undergoing revisal and correction by the
Author.
There are some exquisitely pretty stanzas, very
* Franklin never forgave this speech, and by making it Wedder-
burne aggravated the very mischief he was deprecating.
NOTES ON WHAXALL. 351
little known, written by one Mr. Dale, upon Franklyn's
invention of a lamp, in which the flame was forced
downward, burning in a new discovered method, con-
trary to nature. I had a rough copy of the verses, and
they lay loose in the second volume of " Ketrospection,"
but I suppose they dropped out, and I lost them, or
they should have been written down here.
I cannot trust my memory to do them justice. The
first stanzas praise his philosophical powers :
" But to covet political fame,
Was in him a degrading ambition ;
'Twas a spark that from Lucifer came,
And first kindled the blaze of sedition.
" May not Candour then write on his urn,
Here alas ! lies a noted inventor j
Whose flame up to Heav'n ought to burn,
But inverted, descends to the centre" *
" Like his nephew, Mr. Fox, the Duke (of Kichmond)
did not spare the King, when addressing the House of
Lords ; and he was considered as peculiarly obnoxious at
St. James's." Wraxall.
Note. He never forgave the preference given by the
* It is strange that she forgot to mention Turgot's famous motto
for the bust of Franklin, by Houdon :
" Eripuit ccelo fulmen, sceptrumque tyrannis."
Franklin's own criticism on it was that the thunder remained
where he found it, and that more than a million of men co-
operated with him in shaking off the monarchical rule of Great
Britain,
352 MARGINAL NOTES.
King's immediate advisers, when there was question of a
Consort to the English Throne, where he hoped to see
his beautiful sister (Lady Sarah) seated in vain !
Lord Bute was too quick in providing a much safer
partner.
(i Burke exclaimed, that s he (Pitt) was not merely
a chip of the old block, but the old block itself.' "
Wraxall.
Note. Not quite. The old block's head was beau-
tiful, and the eyes in it brilliant with intelligence.
Note. I have seen Sheridan (the father of E. B.)
on the stage in former days, acting Horatio in Rowe's
" Fair Penitent," to Grarrick's Lothario ; but of his
powers as a lecturer, Mr. Murphy gave the most lu-
dicrous account, taking him off with incomparable
powers of mimicry quite unequalled.
Note. He (Lord Mulgrave) was a haughty spirited
man, whom I should not suspect of any possible mean-
ness, for any possible advantage. Eough as a boatswain,
proud as a strong feeling of aristocracy could make
him, and fond of coarse merriment, approaching to ill-
manners, he was in society a dangerous converser : one
never knew what he would say next. "Why Holla,
Burke ! (I heard him crying out on one occasion) What,
you are rioting in puns now Johnson is away." Burke
was indignant, and ready with a reply. But Lord
Mulgrave drowned all in storms of laughter.
In reference to the " Optat Ephippia Bos piger " story
NOTES ON WRAXALL. 353
of Lord Falrnouth and Pitt, told by Wraxall, she
writes :
I have heard my father relate the story somewhat
differently, but in substance the same. He said some
wag chalked the words on his (Lord Falmouth's) door,
and that seeing them he exclaimed, " he would give 1001.
to know who wrote them." The first friend he met
said, " Grive me the money, Horace wrote them." Then
comes the next mistake, " Horace ! a dog, after all his
obligations to me," &c. *
A similar story to this was related to me in Italy.
Cardinal Zanelli was pasquinaded at Rome for his in-
gratitude to the Dauphin of France, whose influence,
exerted in his favour, had procured him the dignity
of Eminenza. Zanelli's coat armour was a vine; the
statue exhibited these words :
" Plantavi Vineam, et fecit labruscas."
The enraged Cardinal, little skilled in Scripture
learning, actually promised a reward to whoever would
tell who wrote it. Next day Pasquin claimed the re-
ward for himself, having marked under the words, 40th
chapter of Isaiah.
i
Note. In this memorable year, 1782, the "Atlas"
man-of-war was launched, a three-decker of eminent
beauty. We all know that the figure at the ship's head
* i. e. Horace Walpole. Lord Falmouth's family name was
Boscawen, and he had just been soliciting the Garter.
VOL. I. A A
354 MARGINAL NOTES.
corresponds with the name, and I was informed that
Hercules's substitute was a most magnificent fellow, fit
to support the globe. When, however, they came to
ship her bowsprit, he stood so high, that something was
found necessary to be done ; and the rough carpenter,
waiting no orders, cut part of the globe away which
stood upon the hero's shoulders. When it was ex-
amined afterwards, the part lost to our possession was
observed to be America. Sailors remarked the acci-
dent as ominous, and the event has not tended to lessen
their credulity.
When Montcalm was dying of his wounds in the
great battle which deprived us of General Wolfe, " Well,
well ! " said he, " England has torn North America from
us, but she will one day tear herself from the mother
country. Once free from the French yoke, she will
endure no other."
My father said those were his very words: my
father died in the year 1762, but he always predicted
American Independence.
"During his elder brother's life, when only Lord
Harry Powlett, he (the Duke of Bolton) had served in
the royal navy, where, however, he acquired no laurels,
and he was commonly supposed to be the 'Captain
Whiffle ' pourtrayed by Smollet, in his ' Roderick
Eandom.' " Wraxall.
Note. I don't know whether this Lord Harry Pow-
lett, or an uncle of his wearing the same name, was the
person of whom my mother used to relate a ludicrous
NOTES ON WRAXALL. 355
anecdote. Some lady with whom she had been well
acquainted, and to whom his lordship was observed to
pay uncommon attentions, requested him to procure for
her a pair of small monkies from East India I forget
the kind. Lord Harry, happy to oblige her, wrote im-
mediately, depending on the best services of a distant
friend, whom he had essentially served. Writing a bad
hand, however, and spelling what he wrote for with
more haste than correctness, he charged the gentleman
to send him over two monkies, but the word being
written too, and all the characters of one height, / 00,
what was poor Lord Harry Powlett's dismay, when a
letter came to hand, with the news that he would re-
ceive fifty monkies by such a ship, and fifty more by
the next conveyance, making up the hundred according
to his lordship's commands !
Note. They said Pitt and Legge went together like
Caesar and Bibulus, and so they did ; all the attention
paid the first, and none to the os-named consul.
Note. The following epigram was handed about to
ridicule Sir Thomas Rumbold :
" When Mackreith liv'd 'mong Arthur's crew,
He cried, Here, Rumbold, black my shoe ;
And Rumbold answered, Yea, Bob.
But when return'd from Asia's land,
He proudly scorn'd that mean command,
And boldly answered, Nay, Bob (Nabob).' 1 ''
Note. On this occasion (victory over De Grasse in
1782) Rodney is said to have taught them the method
of breaking the line, by which I have heard it asserted
A A 2
356 MARGINAL NOTES.
that Lord Nelson won all his victories by sea, and
Buonaparte by land ; but which is a still stranger thing,
Lord GHenbervie told me (and I believe him) that Epa-
minondas won the battles of Leuctra and Mantinea by
the same manoeuvre 2178 years ago.
" The Princess of Franca Villa was commonly sup-
posed to have bestowed on him (Lord Eockingham) the
same fatal present, which the ' Belle Ferroniere ' con-
ferred on Francis the First, King of France ; and which,
as we learn from Burnet *, the Countess of Southesk
was said to have entailed on James, Duke of York,
afterwards James the Second." Wraxall.
In Italy it was supposed to have been the succession
powder mingled with chocolate whilst in the cake, not
iii the liquid we drink. Acqua Toffana, and succession
powder (polvere per successione) were administered, as I
have heard, with certain although ill-understood effects.
Lord Rockingham desired to be opened after his death,
and was so.
On the application of the term " disinterested " to
Archbishop Moore's conduct, in communicating to hia
pupil, the Duke of Marlborough, the advances of the
Duchess Dowager, her note is :
Disinterested is not quite the word to use. He
served his interest in preferring the Duke's power to a
connection with the Duchess, who had only her life
* The story is told in Grammont's Memoirs.
NOTES ON WRAXALL. 357
income to bestow, and a faded person possessing no
attractions.
" There were a number of Members who regularly
received from him (Pelham's Secretary of the Treasury)
their payment or stipend at the end of every session in
bank notes." Wraxall.
Note. I am sorry to read these things of Mr.
Pelham, whom everybody loved, and Garrick praised so
sweetly, saying :
" Let others hail the rising sun,
I bow to that whose course is run,
Which sets in endless night ;
Whose rays benignant bless'd our Isle,
Made peaceful nature round us smile,
With calm but cheerful light.
" See as you pass the crowded street,
Despondence clouds each face you meet,
All their lost friend deplore.
You read in every pensive eye,
You hear in every broken sigh,
That Pelham is no more."
This Ode, from whence I have selected two stanzas,
not the best, and a comical thing called "The News
Writers' Petition," that came out a very little while be-
fore, give one the impression of his having been a
very honest man. I am quite sorry Wraxall's book tends
so much to destroy that impression.
Pelham's death was curious, and he thought so ; for
it was his favourite maxim in politics, never to stir an
358 MARGINAL NOTES.
evil which lies quiet, "And now," said he, upon his death-
bed to his doctor, " I die for having acted in contradic-
tion to my own good rule taking unnecessary medi-
cines for a stone which lay still enough in my bladder,
and might perhaps never have given me serious injury."
But so it is, that though death certainly does strike the
dart, it is often vice or folly poisons it with regard to
this world or the world to come.
END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
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