THE LIBRARY
OF
THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA
RIVERSIDE
LETTERS OF
HORACE WALPOLE
MRS. PAGET TOYNBEE
VII
HENRY FROWDE, M.A.
PUBLISHER TO THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD
LONDON, EDINBURGH
NEW YORK
Two hundred and sixty copies of this edition
have been printed on hand-made paper, of which
this is Number CL. If 0 .
"'ir>rfLc^ rrf
THE LETTERS OF
HORACE WALPOLE
/"
FOURTH EARL OF ORFORD
CHRONOLOGICALLY ARRANGED
AND EDITED WITH NOTES AND INDICES
BY
MRS. PAGET TOYNBEE
IN SIXTEEN VOLUMES
WITH PORTRAITS AND FACSIMILES
VOL. VII: 1766—1771
WZ/)I7
3 A
7
If 03
OXFORD
PRINTED AT THE CLARENDON PRESS
BY HORACE HART, M.A.
PRINTER TO THE UNIVERSITY
CONTENTS OF VOL. VII
PAGES
LIST OF PORTRAITS vi
LIST OP LETTERS IN VOLUME VII . . . . . vii-xii
LETTERS 1115-1335 . 1-436
LIST OF PORTRAITS
HORACE WALPOLE \ , Frontispiece
From portrait by Nathaniel Hone in National Portrait
Gallery.
HON. MRS. DAMEB To face p. 97
From painting by Sir Joshua Beynolda in National
Portrait Gallery.
WILLIAM HENRY, DUKE OF GLOUCESTER . ,,164
From painting by Sir Joshua Eeynolds in possession of
Earl Waldegrave.
GEORGE KEPPEL, THIRD EARL OF ALBEMARLE „ 381
From painting by Sir Joshua Eeynolds in possession of
Earl of Albcmarlo.
LIST OF LETTERS IN VOL. VII
T
1115 May 22, 1766 . .
1116 May 25, 1766 . .
1117 June 9, 1766. . .
1118 June 20, 1766 . .
1119 June 28, 1766 . .
1120 July 10, 1766 . .
1121 July 10, 1766 . .
1122 July 11, 1766 . .
1123 July 11, 1766 . .
1124f [16 Juillet 1766] . .
1125 [July 17, 1766] . .
1126 July 18, 1766 . .
1127 July 18, 1766 . .
1128 July 21, 1766 . .
1129 July 23, 1766 . .
1130 July 26, 1766 . .
1131 Aug. 1,1766. . .
1132f 17 Aout 1766 . .
1133 Sept. 9, 1766. . .
1134 Wednesday noon
[Sept. 17, 1766]
1135 Wednesday evening
[Sept. 17, 1766]
1136 Sept. 18, 1766 . .
1137 Sept. 23, 1766 . .
1138 Sept. 25, 1766 . .
1139f [Sept. 1766] . . .
1140 Oct. 2, 1766 . . .
1141 Oct. 5, 1766 . . .
1142 Oct. 6, 1766 . . .
1143 Oct. 10, 1766. . .
1144 Oct. 18, 1766. . .
1145 Oct. 18, 1766. . .
1146 Oct. 22, 1766. . .
1147 [Oct. 1766]
c
1766.
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1058
George Montagu .... 1059
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1060
George Montagu .... 1061
Lady Hervey . .^_ . . 1062
George Montagu. . . . 1063
Countess of Suffolk . . . 2661
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1064
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1065
Marquise du Deffand.
Countess of Suffolk . . . 1066
Hon. Thomas Walpole.
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1067
George Montagu .... 1068
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1069
David Hume .- . 1070
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1071
President He*nault.
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1072
Lady Mary Coke.
Lady Mary Coke.
Rev. William Cole . . . 1073
George Montagu .... 1074
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1075
Comtesse de Forcalquier,
Hon. Henry Seymour Con way 1076
George Montagu .... 1077
Countess of Suffolk . . . 1078
John Chute 1079
George Montagu .... 1080
Hon. Henry Seymour Con way 1081
George Montagu. . . . 1082
Lady Mary Coke.
f Now printed for the first time.
Vlll
List of Letters
1159 Jan. 13 [1767]
1160 Jan. 21, 1767
1161 Feb. 13, 1767
1162f Feb. 17, 1767
1163 March 2, 1767
1164 March 8, 1767
1165 March 13, 1767
1166*t March 18 .
1166 March 19, 1767
1167 April 5, 1767
1168 April 6, 1767
1169 April 17, 1767
1170 April 25, 1767
1171 May 12, 1767
1172 May 23, 1767
1173 May 24, 1767
1174 May 30, 1767
1175 June 30, 1767
1176 July 20, 1767
1177 July 29, 1767
1178 July 31, 1767
1179 July 31, 1767
1180f Aug. 3, 1767.
1181 Aug. 7, 1767 .
1182 Aug. 18, 1767
1183 Sept. 9, 1767.
1184 Sept. 20, 1767
1185 Sept. 27, 1767
1186 Oct. 13, 1767.
1187 Oct. 16, 1767.
T C
1148 Oct. 26, 1766. . . Sir Horace Mann . . . 1083
1149f 27 Oct. 1766 . . . Comtesse de Forcalquier.
1150f 27 Oct. 1766 . . . Duchesse de Choiseul.
1151 Nov. 3, 1766 . . . Duchesse d'Aiguillon.
1152 Nov. 5, 1766 . . . Lord Hailes 1084
1153 Nov. 6, 1766 . . . David Hume .... 1085
1154 Nov. 11, 1766 . . David Hume .... 1086
1165 Nov. 13, 1766 . . Sir Horace Mann . „ . 1087
1166 Dec. 8, 1766 ... Sir Horace Mann . . . 1089
1157 Dec. 12, 1766 . . George Montagu . . . . 1088
1158 Dec. 16, 1766 . . George Montagu .... 1090
1767.
George Montagu .... 1091
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1092
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1093
John Hutchins (?).
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1094
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1095
. William Langley . . . 1096
George Augustus Selwyn.
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1097
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1098
Rev. Henry Zouch.
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1099
Dr. Ducarel 1100
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1101
Duke of Grafton.
Sir Horace Mann ... 1 102
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1103
Sir Horace Mann . . .1104
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1105
Earl of Strafford . . . .1106
George Montagu . . . . 1107
, Sir Horace Mann . . .1108
Thomas Astle.
George Montagu . . . . 1109
Sir Horace Mann . . .1110
Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 1111
Lady Mary Coke.
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1112
George Montagu . . . .1113
George Augustus Selwyn. . 1114
t Now printed for the first time.
List of Letters
IX
T C
1 188 1- 16 Oct. 1767 . . . Duchesse de Choiseul.
1189 Oct. 24, 1767. . . Rev. William Cole . . . 1115
1190 Oct. 29, 1767 ... Sir Horace Mann . . . 1116
1191 Oct. 80, 1767. . . Rev. Thomas Warton . . 1117
1192 Nov. 1,1767. . . George Montagu . . . . 1118
1193 Nov. 4, 1767. . . Hon. Thomas Walpole.
1194 Dec. 2, 1767 . . . Sir Horace Mann . . .1119
1195 Dec. 14, 1767 . . Sir Horace Mann . . . 1120
1196 Dec. 19, 1767 . . Eev. William Cole . . .1121
1197 Dec. 25, 1767 . . Sir Horace Mann . . .1122
1768.
1198 Jan. 16, 1768 . . Thomas Astle.
1199 Jan. 17, 1768 . . Sir Horace Mann . . . 1123
1200 Jan. 17, 1768 . . Lord Hailes 1124
1201 Feb. 1, 1768 . . . Rev. William Cole . . . 1125
1202 Feb. 2,1768. . . Lord Hailes 1126
1203 Feb. 18, 1768 . . Thomas Gray .... 1127
1204f 23 Fev. 1768. . . Duchesse de Choiseul.
1205 Feb. 26, 1768 . . Sir Horace Mann . . . 1128
1206 Feb. 26 [1768] . . Thomas Gray .... 1129
1207 March 8, 1768 . . Sir Horace Mann . . . 1130
1208 March 12, 1768 . . George Montagu . . . . 1131
1209 March 31, 1768 . . Sir Horace Mann . . . 1132
1210 April 15, 1768 . . George Montagu . . . . 1133
1211 April 16, 1768 . . Rev. William Cole . . . 1134
1212f April 22, 1768 . . Thomas Astle.
1213 April 23, 1768 . . Sir Horace Mann . . . 1135
1214 May 12, 1768 . . Sir Horace Mann . . . 1136
1215 June 6, 1768. . . Rev. William Cole . . . 1187
1216 June 9, 1768 ... Sir Horace Mann . . . 1138
1217 June 15, 1768 . . George Montagu .... 1139
1218 June 16, 1768 . . Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 1140
1219 June 21, 1768 . . Fra^ois Arouet de Voltaire . 1141
1220 June 22, 1768 . . Sir Horace Mann . . . 1142
1221 June 25, 1768 . . Earl of Strafford . . . . 1143
1222 July 27, 1768 . . Fran$ois Arouet de Voltaire . 1144
1223 Aug. 4, 1768. . . Sir Horace Mann . . .1145
1224 Aug. 9, 1768. . . Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 1146
1225 Aug. 13, 1768 . . George Montagu . . . . 1147
1226 Aug. 13, 1768 . . Sir Horace Mann . . . 1148
1227 Aug. 16, 1768 . . Earl of Strafford . . . . 1149
f Now printed for the first time.
List of Letters
T
1228
Aug. 20, 1768
1229
Aug. 24, 1768
1230
Aug. 25, 1768
1231
Sept. 20, 1768
1232
Sept. 22, 1768
1233
[Oct. 1768] .
1234
Oct. 10, 1768.
1235
Oct. 24, 1768.
1236
Oct. 28, 1768 .
1237
Nov. 3, 1768 .
1238
Nov. 10, 1768
1239
Nov. 15, 1768
1240
Nov. 18, 1768
1241
Nov. 25, 1768
1242
Dec. 1, 1768 .
1243
Dec. 2, 1768 .
1244
Dec. 20, 1768
1245
Jan. 14, 1769
1246
Jan. 81, 1769
1247
Feb. 6, 1769 .
1248
Feb. 28, 1769
1249
March 23, 1769
1250
March 24, 1769
1251
March 26, 1769
1252
March 28, 1769
1253
April 5, 1769
1254
[April 1769] .
1255
April 14, 1769
1256
April 15, 1769
1257
May 11, 1769.
1258
May 11, 1769.
1259
May 11, 1769.
1260
May 25, 1769
1261
May 27, 1769
1262
June 14, 1769
1263
June 14, 1769
1264
June 26, 1769
1265
July 3, 1769 .
1266
July 7, 1769 .
1267
July 15, 1769
G
Rev. William Cole . . . 1152
Sir Horace Mann . . .1150
Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 1161
Thomas Warton . . . . 1153
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1154
Lady Mary Coke.
Earl of Strafford. . . . 1155
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1156
Miss Anne Pitt.
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1157
George Montagu . . . . 1158
George Montagu .... 1159
Sir Horace Mann . . .1160
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1161
George Montagu .... 1162
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1163
Sir Horace Mann 1164
1769.
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1165
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1166
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1167
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1168
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1169
Grosvenor Bedford . . .1170
George Montagu . . . .1171
Thomas Chatterton . . . 1172
Rev. William Mason . . . 1173
Dr. Robertson . . . .1174
Sir Horace Mann . . .1175
George Montagu . . . .1176
George Montagu . . . .1177
Sir Horace Mann . . .1178
Rev. William Mason . . . 1180
Sir Horace Mann . . .1179
Rev. William Cole . . . 1181
Rev. William Cole . . .1182
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1183
Rev. William Cole . . .1184
Earl of Strafford . . . .1185
Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 1186
Rev. William Cole . 1187
List of Letters
XI
T
1268
July 19, 1769 .
• -,
1269
[Aug. 1769] . .
1270
Aug. 12, 1769 .
1271
Aug. 18, 1769 .
v
1272
Aug. 30, 1769 .
1273
Sept. 7, 1769. .
.
1274
Sept. 8, 1769 . .
1275
Sept. 17, 1769 .
1276
Oct. 8, 1769 .
1277
Oct. 16, 1769. .
.
1278
Oct. 26, 1769. .
1279
Nov. 6, 1769 . .
1280
Nov. 14, 1769 .
.
1281
Nov. 30, 1769 .
.
1282
Dec. 5, 1769 . .
1283
Dec. 14, 1769
1284
Dec. 14, 1769
.
1285
Dec. 14, 1769 .
1286
Dec. 21, 1769
1287
Dec. 31, 1769
1288
Jan. 1, 1770 . .
1289
Jan. 10, 1770 . .
.
1290
Jan. 18, 1770. .
.
1291
Jan. 22, 1770. .
.
1292
Jan. 23, 1770. .
.
1293
Jan. 30, 1770. .
1294
Feb. 2, 1770 . .
1295
Feb. 27, 1770. .
1296
March 15, 1770 .
1297
March 23, 1770 .
.
1298
March 31, 1770 .
1299
Thursday morning
1300
April 19, 1770 .
.
1301
May 6, 1770 . .
1302
May 6, 1770 . .
1303
May 24, 1770 .
.
1304
June 11, 1770 .
.
1305
June 15, 1770 .
.
1306
June 29, 1770 .
.
1307
July 1, 1770 . .
c
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1188
Thomas Chatterton.
Rev. William Cole . . . 1189
George Montagu .... 1190
John Chute. ,--;: i >•'• -\ 1191
George Montagu .... 1192
Earl of Strafford. . . . 1193
George Montagu .... 1194
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1195
George Montagu .... 1196
Countess of Upper Ossory . 1197
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1198
Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 1 199
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1200
Countess of Upper Ossory . 1202
George Montagu .... 1201
Lady Mary Coke.
Rev. William Cole.
Rev. William Cole . . . 1203
Sir Horace Mann 1204
1770.
Lord Hailes 1205
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1206
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1207
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1208
Lord Hailes 1209
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1210
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1212
Sir Horace Mann . . .1213
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1214
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1215
George Montagu . . . . 1211
George Augustus Selwyn.
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1216
Sir Horace Mann . . .1217
George Montagu .... 1218
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1219
George Montagu .... 1220
Sir Horace Mann . . . 1221
George Montagu .... 1222
George Montagu .... 1223
Xll
List of Letters
T C
1308 July 7, 1770 . . . George Montagu .... 1224
1309 July 9, 1770 . . . Earl of Strafford .... 1225
1310 July 12, 1770 . . Hon. HenrySeymourConway 1226
1311 July 14, 1770 . . George Montagu . . . . 1227
1312 [July 15, 1770J . . George Montagu .... 1228
1313 July 26, 1770 . . Sir Horace Mann . . . 1229
1314 Aug. 31, 1770 . . Sir Horace Mann . . . 1230
1315 Sept. 13, 1770 . . Lady Mary Coke.
1316 [Sept. 1770] . . . Countess of Upper Ossory . 1281
1317 Sept. 15, 1770 . . Countess of Upper Ossory . 1232
1318 Sept. 20, 1770 . . Sir Horace Mann . . . 1238
1319 Sept. 24, 1770 . . Lady Mary Coke.
1320 Oct. 8, 1770 . . . George Montagu . . . .1284
1821 Oct. 4, 1770 . . . Countess of Upper Ossory . 1285
1322 Oct. 4, 1770 . . . Sir Horace Mann . . .1236
1323 Oct. 16, 1770. . . George Montagu . . . . 1237
1324 Oct. 16, 1770. . . Earl of Strafford . . . . 1238
1325 Oct. 17, 1770. . . Earl of Charlemont . . . 1239
1326 Nov. 12, 1770 . . Sir Horace Mann . . . 1240
1327 Nov. 15, 1770 . . Rev. William Cole . . . 1241
1328 Nov. 20, 1770 . . Rev. William Cole . . . 1242
1329 Nov. 26, 1770 . . Sir Horace Mann . . . 124"3
1330 Dec. 18, 1770 . . Sir Horace Mann . . . 1244
1331 Dec. 20, 1770 . . Rev. William Cole . . . 1245
1332 Christmas Day . . Hon. Henry Seymour Con way 1246
1333 Dec. 29, 1770 . . Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 1247
1334 Dec. 29, 1770 . . Sir Horace Mann . . .1248
V,
1335 Jan. 10, 1771
1771.
Rev. William Cole
. 1249
THE LETTERS
or
HORACE WALPOLE
1115. To STB HORACE MANN.
Arlington Street, May 22, 1766.
AT last, my dear Sir, I begin to see daylight : the present
ministry, I think now, will stand. Mr. Pitt missed his
opportunity, and pushed his haughtiness a little too far, and
I believe is grievously disappointed. Nothing was more
plain than his eagerness to return to power, but he took it
upon too high a style, and miscarried. The court did not
wish for a master, nor many of the ministers for a dictator ;
yet he was courted by the latter to the last. He would not
vouchsafe to treat but personally with the King, who would
not send for him a third time. He then veered towards his
kin, and having laid out all his dignity with the ministers,
was condescending enough towards the Grenvilles. Lord
Temple met him halfway, but George Grenville's wounds
were too fresh to close so soon, and he took the counter-
part of Pitt ; for having repeated the most abject advances
to Bute, he indemnified his pride by holding off from Pitt,
and so both are left in the lurch, and both have taken to
the last quieting draught of disappointed ambition, the
country. The Duke of Grafton has sacrificed himself to
Pitt's pride, and has resigned the Seals, which are given to
the Duke of Kichmond, who kisses hands to-morrow 1. Lord
Eochford, I think, will go to Paris 2.
LETTER 1115. — 1 A* Secretary of State for the Southern Province.
1 As Ambassador.
WALPOLE. VII
2 To Sir Horace Mann [i766
The promotion of the Duke of Richmond pleases me
extremely; it makes an united administration, and a
little prudence and management may make it a permanent
one.
Luckily for us, it has been a time when we could afford
to play the fool. France has neither heads, generals, nor
money, and Spain has got its hands full ; and we have got
rid of our enemies there, the French and Italian ministers.
As I love big politics, I am waiting with impatience for
more news of Prince Heraclius 8, who, we are told, is on the
high road to Constantinople. When he has pulled down
the Mufti, pray fetch him to burn old Mother Babylon for
a witch. You know I have always sighed for thundering
revolutions, but have been forced to piddle with changes of
ministers. Oh, but we have discovered a race of giants !
Captain Byron 4 has found a nation of Brobdignags on the
coast of Patagonia; the inhabitants on foot taller than he
and his men on horseback. I don't indeed know how he
and his sailors came to be riding in the South Seas. How-
ever, it is a terrible blow to the Irish, for I suppose all our
dowagers now will be for marrying Patagonians. Somewhere
else, too, — but I am a sad geographer — there is a polished
country discovered in those seas. They must be barbarous
indeed if they exceed London and Paris ! Have you heard
of Lally's 5 tragedy ; that they g%gged him lest he should
choke himself with his own tongue, which is not the easiest
sort of self-murder in the world, and that the mob clapped
their hands for joy during the execution ? When a nation
has behaved cowardly, they always think to repair it by
cruelty ; — so poor Byng was murdered— and now this man,
who was a tyrant, but certainly not guilty to his country.
3 Prince of Georgia. B He was beheaded on May 10,
4 He had just come back from his 1766.
voyage round the world.
1766] To George Montagu 3
I know our people always accused him of breaking his word
with us to serve the cause of France.
If it is too soon to conduct Prince Heraclius to Rome,
and you have quite annihilated the Pretender, and have
nothing else to do, I wish you would think for me of the
other volumes of Herculaneum. Mount Vesuvius seems
out of humour, and may destroy all the copies. When you
have an opportunity too, pray send me home my letters :
I have not had a parcel a great while.
We have no news of any kind but these dregs of politics.
The town empties, and will be deserted after the Birthday.
I shall soon settle at Strawberry for the summer, which
is not begun yet, from a succession of rains and east winds ;
and as I have no disappointed ambition, I don't choose to
retreat from one fireside to another. Adieu !
1116. To GEOBGE MONTAGU.
Strawberry Hill, May 25, 1766.
WHEN the weather will please to be in a little better
temper, I will call upon you to perform your promise ; but
I cannot in conscience invite you to a fireside. The
Guerchys and French dined here last Monday, and it rained
so that we could no more walk in the garden than Noah
could. I came again to-day, but shall return to town
to-morrow, as I hate to have no sun in May, but what
I can make with a peck of coals.
I know no news, but that the Duke of Richmond is
Secretary of State, and that your cousin North has refused
the Vice-Treasurer of Ireland. It cost him bitter pangs,
not to preserve his virtue, but his vicious connections. He
goggled his eyes, and groped in his money-pocket ; more
than half consented ; nay, so much more, that when he
got home he wrote an excuse to Lord Rockingham, which
B 2
4 To George Montagu [i?66
made it plain that he thought he had accepted. As nobody
was dipped deeper in the warrants and prosecution of
Wilkes, there is no condoling with the ministers on missing
so foul a bargain. They are only to be pitied, that they
can purchase nothing but damaged goods.
So, my Lord Grandison is dead! Does the General1
inherit much ?
Have you heard the great loss the Church of England
has had ? It is not avowed, but hear the evidence and
judge. On Sunday last, George Selwyn was strolling
home to dinner at half an hour after four. He saw my
Lady Townshend's coach stop at Caraccioli's chapel. He
watched, saw her go in ; her footman laughed ; he followed.
She went up to the altar ; a woman brought her a cushion ;
she knelt, crossed herself, and prayed. He stole up, and
knelt by her. Conceive her face, if you can, when she
turned and found his close to her ! In his most demure
voice, he said, ' Pray, Madam, how long has your Ladyship
left the pale of our church ? ' She looked furies, and made
no answer. Next day he went to her, and she turned it off
upon curiosity — but is anything more natural? No, she
certainly means to go armed with every viaticum, the
Church of England in one hand, Methodism in t'other, and
the Host in her mouth.
Have you ranged your forest, and seen your lodge your-
self? I could almost wish it may not answer, and that
you may cast an eye towards our neighbourhood. My Lady
Shelburn2 has taken a house here, and it has produced
a l>on mot from Mrs. Clive. You know my Lady Suffolk
is deaf, and I have talked much of a charming old passion
LBTTBB 1116.— l John Fitzgerald, * Mary (d. 1780), daughter of Hon.
first Earl Grandison. Hia only sur- William Fitzmaurice, of Gallano, co.
viving child married, aa her second Kerry ; m. (1734) John Petty, first
husband, Montagu's brother, General Earl of Shelburne, who died in 1761,
Charles Montagu.
1766] To Sir Horace Mann 5
I have at Paris, who is Hind3 — 'Well,' said the Olive, 'if
the new Countess is but lame, I shall have no chance of ever
seeing you.' Goodnight! Yours ever,
H. WALPOLE.
1117. To SIB HOBACE MANN.
Strawberry Hill, June 9, 1766.
THE session of Parliament has at last ended, and the
ministry have a lease of five or six months longer. This is
the most one can depend upon, notwithstanding my views
were so sanguine in my last ; but their heads not being
quite so well ballasted as their hearts, it is difficult to say
how long they will swim. Your friend, the whitest of
our white princes *, was very nearly oversetting their bark
as it was making land. He had obtained a promise from
his brother and Lord Kockingham of a Parliamentary
settlement on him and his younger brothers, which would
have raised their appanages to 20,000?. a year each. It
was neglected till the last days of the session ; when Mr.
Conway, who had not been made acquainted, objected to
so considerable a donation being hurried through the
remnant of a thin House, especially as it was universally
disapproved, the ministers having the good fortune to have
most people agree with them on all points against the
opposition, of which this Eoyal Highness is a chief. The
ministers gave in to Mr. Conway's opinion ; the Duke
insisted, but at last the King consented that it should be
postponed till next year, after recommending it to the
House, with the demand for his sister's fortune, the future
Queen of Denmark. If you have your royal visitor again
this summer, you must expect to hear Mr. Conway much
8 Madame du Deffand.
LKTTEB 1117.— * The Duke of York. Walpole.
6 To Sir Horace Mann [1766
reproached. I will dispense with your bearing it patiently,
if it procures you the red riband. As stability is not the
property of ministerial tenures at present, be always upon
your guard what you write to me, for your letters may find
new faces at the post office before I have time to prepare
you for them.
The Great Commoner* is exceedingly out of humour, and
having duped himself, taxes the ministers with perfidy ; he
who would never connect with them in or out, and who,
having proscribed half of them, would not vouchsafe to
treat with the rest. The people who think everything
right that he does, or does not, and who, as often as he
changes his mind backwards and forwards, think that right
too, take all the pains they can to indulge his pride. He
has been at Bath ; they stood up all the time he was in the
Booms, and while he drank his glass of water; and one
man in Somersetshire said to him as he passed through
a crowd, ' I hope your Majesty's health is better ! ' I am
glad, — no, I don't know whether I am not sorry, that he
is not at Quito 3, where they have insisted on crowning one
of their fellow subjects King of Peru. "Pis a lucky revo-
lution for us, and would have pleased me entirely if they
had chosen a Peruvian. However, the poor Peruvians
must have some comfort in seeing their tyrants punish
themselves.
We have a Russian Garrick4 here, the head of their
theatre, and, like Shakespeare, both actor and author. He
has translated Hamlet, and it has been acted at Petersburgh.
I could wish the parallel were carried still farther, and that
after this play acted before the Empress Gertrude, the
assassin of her husband, she were to end like Hamlet's
mother.
* A common phrase for Mr. Pitt. * Alexander Sumarokoff (1718-
Walpole. 1777).
* The Spanish capital of Peru.
1766] To George Montagu 7
The King and Queen have been here this week to see
my castle, and stayed two hours. I was gone to London
but a quarter of an hour before. They were exceedingly
pleased with it, and the Queen so much that she said she
would come again. I do wish, my dear Sir, you could
once see it ! It would to me be the most pleasing inter-
ruption that could happen to our correspondence. Adieu !
1118. To GEOBGE MONTAGU.
Strawberry Hill, June 20, 1766.
I DON'T know when I shall see you, but therefore must
not I write to you ? yet I have as little to say as may be.
I could cry through a whole page over the bad weather.
I have but a lock of hay, you know, and I cannot get it
dry, unless I bring it to the fire. I would give half a crown
for a pennyworth of sun. It is abominable to be ruined
in coals in the middle of June.
What pleasure you have to come ! there is a new thing
published, that will make you bepiss your cheeks with
laughing. It is called the New Bath Guide \ It stole into
the world, and for a fortnight no soul looked into it, con-
cluding its name was its true name. No such thing. It
is a set of letters in verse, in all kind of verses, describing
the life at Bath, and incidentally everything else — but
so much wit, so much humour, fun, poetry, so much
originality, never met together before. Then the man has
a better ear than Dryden or Handel. Apropos to Dryden,
he has burlesqued his St. Cecilia, that you will never
read it again without laughing. There is a description
of a milliner's box in all the terms of landscape, painted
lawns and chequered shades, a Moravian ode, and a Methodist
ditty, that are incomparable, and the best names that ever
LimtB Ilia—1 By Christopher Anstey (1724-1805).
8 To George Montagu [i766
were composed. I can say it by heart, though a quarto,
and if I had time would write it you down, for it is not
yet reprinted, and not one to be had.
There are two new volumes, too, of Swift's Correspon-
dence, that will not amuse you less in another way, though
abominable, for there are letters of twenty persons now
alive. Fifty of Lady Betty Germain, one2 that does her
great honour, in which she defends her friend my Lady
Suffolk, with all the spirit in the world, against that brute,
who hated everybody that he hoped would get him a mitre,
and did not. There is one to his Miss Vanhomrigh, from
which I think it plain he lay with her, notwithstanding his
supposed incapacity, yet not doing much honour to that
capacity, for he says he can drink coffee but once a week,
and I think you will see very clearly what he means by
coffee. His own journal sent to Stella during the four last
years of the Queen is a fund of entertainment. You will
see his insolence in full colours, and, at the same time,
how daily vain he was of being noticed by the ministers
he affected to treat arrogantly. His panic at the Mohocks
is comical ; but what strikes one, is bringing before one's
eyes the incidents of a curious period. He goes to the
rehearsal of Cato, and says the drab that acted Cato's
daughter could not say her part. This was only Mrs.
Oldfield. I was saying before George Selwyn, that this
journal put me in mind of the present time ; there was the
same indecision, irresolution, and want of system, but
I added, ' There is nothing new under the sun.' — ' No,' said
Selwyn, ' nor under the grandson/
My Lord Chesterfield has done me much honour : he told
Mrs. Anne Pitt that he would subscribe to any politics
I should lay down. When she repeated this to me, I said,
' Pray tell him I have laid down politics.'
2 The letter dated Feb. 8, 1731.
1766] To Lady Hervey 9
I am got into puns, and will tell you an excellent one of
the King of France, though it does not spell any better
than Selwyn's. You must have heard of Count Lauragais,
and his horse-race, and his quacking his horse till he killed
it. At his return the King asked him what he had been
doing in England ? ' Sire, j'ai appris a penser ' — ' Des
chevaux ? ' replied the King.
Good night ! I am tired, and going to bed. Yours ever,
H. W.
1119. To LADY HEEVEY.
Strawberry Hill, June 28, 1766.
IT is consonant to your Ladyship's long experienced
goodness, to remove my error as soon as you could. In
fact, the same post that brought Madame d'Aiguillon's letter
to you, brought me a confession from Madame du Deffand
of her guilt. I am not the less obliged to your Ladyship
for informing against the true criminal. It is well for me,
however, that I hesitated, and did not, as Monsieur de
Guerchy pressed me to do, constitute myself prisoner.
What a ridiculous vain-glorious figure I should have made
at Versailles with a laboured letter and my present ! I still
shudder when I think of it, and have scolded Madame du
Deffand black and blue. However, I feel very comfortable ;
and though it will be imputed to my own vanity, that
I showed the box as Madame de Choiseul's present, I resign
the glory, and submit to the shame with great satisfaction.
I have no pain in receiving this present from Madame du
Deffand, and must own have great pleasure that nobody
but she could write that most charming of all letters1.
LETTER 1119. — * A letter written de Se>ign6, and on the bottom with
by Madame da Deffand in the name the cipher of Rabutin and S6vign6
of Madame de Sevigne, and accom- in marcasites. Horace Walpole at
panying a snuff-box ornamented on first thought that the box and letter
the top with a miniature of Madame came from the Duchesse de ChoiseuL
10 To Lady Hervey [i766
Did not Lord Chesterfield think it so, Madam? I doubt
our friend Mr. Hume must allow that not only Madame de
Boufflers, but Voltaire himself, could not have written so
well. When I give up Madame de Sevigne herself, I think
his sacrifices will be trifling.
Pray, Madam, continue your waters; and, if possible,
wash away that original sin, the gout. What would one
give for a little rainbow to tell one, one should never have
it again ! Well, but then one should have a burning fever —
for I think the greatest comfort that good-natured divines
give us is, that we are not to be drowned any more, in order
that we may be burnt. It will not at least be this summer ;
here is nothing but haycocks swimming round me. If it
should cease raining by Monday se'nnight, I think of dining
with your Ladyship at Old Windsor ; and if Mr. Bateman
presses me mightily, I may take a bed there.
As I have a waste of paper before me, and nothing more
to say, I have a mind to fill it with a translation of a tale
that I found lately in the Dictionnaire d'Anecdotes, taken
from a German author. The novelty of it struck me, and
The letter ran as follows : — d'etre toujours pour vous un objet
' Des champs Elis6os. agreable. Ne craignez aucun change-
(Point de succession de terns ; merit ; c'est un singulier avantage
point de date.) des ombres; quoique l^geres, elles
Je connois votre folio passion poor sont immuables. J'ai pris la plus
moi; votre cnthousiasme pour mes petite figure qu'il m'a 6te possible,
lettres, votre veneration pour les pour n'6tre jamais s^paree de vous.
lieux que j'ai habites : J'ai appris le Je veux vous accompagner partout,
culte que vous m'y avez rendu : j'en BUT terre, sur mer, a la ville, aux
suis si p6netr6e, que j'ai sollioito et champs ; mais ce que j'exige de vous,
obtenu la permission de mes Sou- c'est de me mener incessamment en
verains de vous venir trouver pour France, de me faire revoir ma patrie,
ne vous quitter jamais. J'abandonne la ville de Paris, et de choisir pour
sans regret ces lieux for tun 6s ; je votre habitation le fauxbourg St.
vous pr6fere a tous ses habitans : Germain ; c'etoit la qu'habitoient
jouissez du plaisir de me voir ; ne mes meilleures amies, c'est le sejour
vous plaignez point que ce ne soit des votres ; vous me ferez faire con-
qu'en peinture ; c'est la seule exist- noissance avec elles : je serai bien
ence que puissent avoir les ombres. also de juger si elles sont dignes de
J'ai ete maitresse de choisir 1'age ou vous, et d'etre les rivales de
je voulois reparaltre ; j'ai pris celuy EABUTIN DE SAvioui.'
de vingt-cinq ans pour m'assurer
1766] To Lady Hervey 11
I put it into verse — ill enough ; but, as the old Duchess of
Kutland used to say of a lie, it will do for news into the
country.
'From Time's usurping power, I see,
Not Acheron itself is free.
His wasting hand my subjects feel,
Grow old, and wrinkle though in Hell.
Decrepit is Alecto grown,
Megaera worn to skin and bone,
And t'other beldam is so old,
She has not spirits left to scold.
Go, Hermes, bid my brother Jove
Send three new Furies from above.'
To Mercury thus Pluto said:
The winged deity obey'd.
It was about the self-same season
That Juno, with as little reason,
Rung for her Abigail ; and, you know,
Iris is chambermaid to Juno.
'Iris, d'ye hear? Mind what I say;
I want three maids — inquire — no, stay !
Three virgins — yes, unspotted all ;
No characters equivocal.
Go find me three, whose manners pure
Can Envy's sharpest tooth endure.'
The goddess curtsey'd, and retir'd ;
From London to Pekin inquir'd ;
Search 'd huts and palaces — in vain ;
And tir'd, to Heaven came back again.
' Alone ! are you return'd alone ?
How wicked must the world be grown!
What has my profligate been doing?
On earth has he been spreading ruin?
Come, tell me all.' — Fair Iris sigh'd,
And thus disconsolate replied: —
' 'Tis true, 0 Queen ! three maids I found —
The like are not on Christian ground —
So chaste, severe, immaculate,
The very name of man they hate:
These — but, alas! I came too late;
12 To George Montagu [1766
For Hermes had been there before —
In triumph off to Pluto bore
Three sisters, whom yourself would own
The true supports of Virtue's throne.'
' To Pluto ! — Mercy ! ' cried the Queen,
'What can my brother Pluto mean?
Poor man ! he doats, or mad he sure is !
What can he want them for?' — 'Three Furies.'
You will say I am an infernal poet ; but everybody cannot
write as they do aux Champs Elysees. Adieu, Madam !
Yours most faithfully,
HOR. WALPOLE.
1120. To GEORGE MONTAGU.
Arlington Street, July 10, 1766.
DON'T you think a complete year enough for any adminis-
tration to last? One1, who at least can remove them,
though he cannot make them, thinks so ; and, accordingly,
yesterday notified that he had sent for Mr. Pitt. Not a jot
more is known ; but as this set is sacrificed to their resolu-
tion of having nothing to do with Lord Bute, the new list
will probably not be composed of such hostile ingredients.
The arrangement I believe settled in the outlines — if it is
not, it may still never take place: it will not be the first
time this egg has been addled. One is very sure that many
people, on all sides, will be displeased, and I think no side
quite contented. Your cousins, the house of Yorke, Lord
George Sackville, Newcastle, and Lord Kockingham, will
certainly not be of the elect. What Lord Temple will do,
or if anything will be done for George Grenville, are great
points of curiosity. The plan will probably be, to pick and
cull from all quarters, and break all parties, as much as
possible. From this moment I date the wane of Mr. Pitt's
LKTTXB 1120. — J George III.
1766] To the Countess of Suffolk 13
glory ; he will want the thorough-bass of drums and trumpets,
and is not made for peace. The dismission of a most popular
administration, a leaven of Bute, whom, too, he can never
trust, and the numbers he will discontent, will be consider-
able objects against him.
For my own part, I am much pleased, and much more
diverted. I have nothing to do but to sit by and laugh,
a humour you know I am apt to indulge. You shall hear
from me again soon.
Yours ever,
HOB. WALPOLE.
1121. To THE COUNTESS OP SUFFOLK.
Thursday, July 10, 1766.
YESTERDAY the administration's year was completed, and
yesterday the administration ended. His Majesty declared
to them that he had sent for Mr. Pitt. Nothing more is
known, nor will be till his arrival. The event itself is but
little known yet in town : the succeeding days will be a little
more busy, and your Ladyship may guess what curiosity
and expectation will be raised till the list appears. I knew
yesterday that something was ready to burst out, as I believe
your Ladyship perceived, though I could not tell what If
Mr. Pitt does not arrive by Saturday, I shall be at Twicken-
ham that day, and will see you in the evening. If he does
I cannot be so unfashionable as to quit the town, when
everybody will be coming to it, though I have nothing else
to do than to amuse myself, except being very glad, for
reasons I will tell you.
Your most obedient
HOB. WALPOLE.
14 To Sir Horace Mann [1766
1122. To SIB HORACE MANN.
Arlington Street, July 11, 1766.
I HOPE you have minded me, and are prepared. Nay, if
you did but calculate, you must have expected a revolution.
Why, it was a year yesterday that the ministers had held
their places. Surely you did not think that Secretaries of
State and Lords of the Treasury are of more importance, or
ought to be more permanent than churchwardens ! If you
did, you do not know my Lord Bute. As Petulant says of
Millamant1 and her lovers, he makes no more of making
ministers than of making card-matches.
The late ministers— I talk of those who were in office
three days ago, stuck to their text ; that is, would not bow
the knee to the idol2 that keeps behind the veil of the
sanctuary. They were content to have shown some civilities
to one or two of his family 3, and asked the King if there
was anybody his Majesty wished particularly to have placed ?
It was now too late : the answer was ' No ! ' On Sunday
last, without any communication to the ministers, the
Chancellor 4, who can smell a storm, and who has probably
bargained for beginning it, told the King that he would
resign. The ministers saw this was a signal of something,
though they did not know what ; and having found of late
that they could obtain no necessary powers for strengthening
themselves, determined to resign. They should have done
so on Wednesday ; but the old obstacle, Newcastle, and one
or two more, prevailed to defer their resolution till to-day.
Mr. Conway alone had determined, when he should quit, to
recommend the sending for Mr. Pitt. To their great sur-
LKTTER 1122. — l Characters in make Mr. Mackenzie, Lord Bute's
Congreve's Way of the World. brother, Vice-Treasurer of Ireland.
* Lord Bute. < Lord Northington. Walpole.
1 Lord Rockingham had offered to
1766] To Sir Horace Mann 15
prise, when they severally went into the closet, the King,
sans fa$on, declared that he had sent for Mr. Pitt. Mr. Con-
way replied that he was very glad of it, and hoped it would
answer. To him much graciousness was used ; he was told
that it was hoped never to see an administration of which
he should not be part. This looks as if the plan was
arranged, and that he was to remain ; for a cool leave, very
cool, was taken of all the rest.
You have now the sum total of all I know, except that,
half an hour ago, I heard Mr. Pitt was arrived. What his
list will be is a profound secret. Probably, it will be
picked and culled from all quarters. If the symptom of an
arrangement being settled, which I mentioned above, had
not appeared, I should say, ' Stay, this is not the first time
Mr. Pitt has been sent for, and gone back re infectd.' Oh,
but though they are not cured of sending for him, he may
be cured of going back. Well, but on the other side, his
scheme of breaking all parties may not succeed — pray don't
think I mean that the constituents of parties are all men of
honour, and will not violate their connections. No ; but
the very self-interest that would tempt them to desert may
at last keep them together. Men will find out that the
tenure of places is too precarious. It grows not worth
while to let themselves be dragged through every kennel
for the salary of a single year.
There may be another difficulty. Will Mr. Pitt propose
Lord Temple for the Treasury ? Will he take it ? Will he
accept without George Grenville ? And will the latter serve
under both ? Can these three act together ? Will Grenville
be endured when Mr. Pitt is called, only to avoid being
forced to call for Grenville ? Oh, I could ask you, or you
may ask me, twenty other questions, that I cannot answer,
and that a few days will. What will popularity say to the
union of Pitt and Bute? Will Mr. Pitt's fortune salve
16 To Sir Horace Mann [i?66
that ? Will it please the nation to see him sacrifice a most
popular administration to the favourite, who fall, because
they withstood the favourite ? Truly, I do not yet know ;
but one thing I do know, that Mr. Pitt must disoblige so
many more than he can content, that by this day twelve-
month I may probably send you another revolution.
As to you, my dear Sir, I am not apprehensive for you.
This is not one of those state-quakes that reach to foreign
ministers. Mr. Pitt is not a man of vengeance ; nor, were
he, could he have any animosity to you. Had the former
ministry returned I would not have warranted you ; the
favour you received from Mr. Conway may have been noted
down in their black book, and the red riband would have
added another dash. In all cases you had better not say
much in answer to this. The new plan may blow up before
it takes place, and what might succeed it is impossible to
guess. I will write to you again as soon as anything is
settled, or if the machine falls to pieces in the erection.
You will soon see at Florence the son8 of Madame de
Boufflers, to whom I have been desired to give a letter. As
I conclude the new French minister 8, who is much connected
with his mother, will be at Florence before his arrival, he
will not have great occasion for your civilities. However,
for once I will beg you rather to exceed in them, for
particular reasons. His mother is the mistress, and very
desirous of being the wife, of the Prince of Conti. She is
a savante, philosophe, author, Itel esprit, what you please, and
has been twice in England, where she has some great
admirers. She was very civil to me at Paris, and at the
same time very unpleasant, for being a protectress of
Kousseau, she was extremely angry, and made the Prince
of Conti so, at the letter I wrote to him in the name of the
8 The Comte de Boufflers-EonveL • Monsieur de Barbantane. WcH-
See the following letter. pole.
1766] To Sir Horace Mann 17
King of Prussia. It was made up, but I believe not at
all forgiven, for it is unpardonable to be too quick-sighted,
and to detect anybody's idol Kousseau has answered all
I thought and said of him, by a most weak and passionate
answer to my letter, which showed I had touched his true
sore ; and since, by the most abominable and ungrateful
abuse of Mr. Hume, the second idol of Madame de Boufflers,
to whom she had consigned the first. This new behaviour
of Rousseau will not justify me in her eyes, because it
makes me more in the right; therefore I should wish, as
the only proper return to a woman, to be of use to her son.
You answer any bills I draw on you so readily, my dear
Sir, that I need say no more — indeed I have not time ;
therefore adieu !
1123. To SIE HOEACE MANN.
Arlington Street, July 11, 1766.
THE Comte de Boufflers, who does me the honour of
carrying this letter, is the gentleman for whom I have
already told you I interest myself so much. His birth and
his rank, added to the uncommon merit and talents of the
Countess, his mother, will everywhere procure him the
proper distinctions. If Madame de Boufflers has done me
the honour of asking what she is pleased to call a recom-
mendatory letter of her son to you, you may be sure I had
not the vanity of accepting such an honour with any other
view than to procure you so agreeable an acquaintance.
You are too just to merit of all nations to estimate it by
countries ; and yet if you can find a way of being more civil
than ordinary, I must beg that art may be employed for the
amusement and service of Monsieur de Boufflers while he is
at Florence. Madame de Boufflers has done so much honour
to England and Englishmen, that you will be a very bad
WALPOLE. VII
18 To the Marquise du Deffand [1766
representative of both if you do not endeavour to pay some
of our debts to her son. Adieu ! my dear Sir.
1124. To THE MAEQUISE DU DEFFAND.
[16 Juillet, 1766.]
. . . Mr. Hume qui s'est epuis6 en bonte pour Eousseau,
avait sollicite M. Conway de procurer une pension du Koi
pour lui. Le Koi en accordait une de cent livres sterling,
mais vu les heresies de Kousseau, Sa MajestS souhaitait
qu'on en gardat le secret. Mr. Hume en fait 1'ouverture
a son protege ; Kousseau recoit avec beaucoup de recon-
naissance cette grace du Roi, mais demande permission
d'ecrire a Milord Marechal pour obtenir son consentement,
ce seigneur lui ayant negociS une pareille grace aupres du
Roi de Prusse, dont Rousseau n'avait pas voulu.
L'affaire traine en longueur; Mr. Hume ne recoit plus
de lettres de Jean Jacques ; il lui ecrit pour le presser de
donner reponse a 1'offre du ministre. Au b'eu de repondre
a son ami il 6crit a Mr. Conway la lettre du monde la moins
intelligible, la plus mysterieuse, et qui marquait un des-
espoir, une amertume — enfin on croyait qu'il allait se pendre;
sa tete, son ame, ses nerfs, disait-il, etaient trop troubles
pour permettre qu'il prit une resolution formelle ; quelque
chose lui 6tait arrive auquel un honnete homme ne devait
pas s'attendre. Je disais a Mr. Hume, 'C'est moi assure-
ment qu'il designe, il sait mes liaisons avec Mr. Conway.'
Enfin nous nous donnions la torture pour percer ce mystere ;
mais ce qui etait plaisant, le meme ordinaire, Mr. Hume
recoit une lettre de M. Davenport, 1'hote de Rousseau, qui
lui marque que jamais il n'avait vu Rousseau plus gai et
LETTER 1124. — Not in C. ; now first Deffand's secretary) in possession of
printed from the transcript (in the Mr. W. K. Parker-Jervis.
handwriting of Wiart, Madame da
1766] To the Marquise du Deffand 19
plus enjoue. Mr. Hume, & la sollicitation de M. Conway,
presse le personnage de se decider, et en memo temps me
fait sentir que ce pourrait bien 6tre la condition du secret
qui aurait rSvolte cette ame trop sensible et delicate ; et me
conjure de faire oter cette stipulation ; je m'y rends, et
d'autant plus volontiers que 1'ayant bless6 je voulais lui
rendre des services essentiels. Je pousse Mr. Conway, et
il me promet de faire des tentatives aupres du Koi pour
que la pension soit publique.
Pendant que le ministre 6pie un moment favorable, voici
une nouvelle lettre de Kousseau a M. Hume oil il 1'accable
d'injures, 1'appelle le plus noir des hommes, 1'assure qu'il
le connait, et qu'il est persuade que Mr. Hume ne 1'a tra!n6
en Angleterre que pour le deshonorer, toujours sans assignor
la moindre raison, sans averer 1'ombre d'un fait. Enfin il
rompt tout commerce avec ce trop tendre ami. Le pauvre
M. Hume est au desespoir, il craint un eclat, il ne veut pas
etre le theme d'une querelle litteraire. II me dit qu'il veut
encore tacher d'adoucir cette bete feroce, et qu'il veut le
prier tres doucement de lui assignor les raisons de cette
conduite bizarre et indigne. ' Oh ! pour les politesses,' je
crie, ' passe ; ne repondez pas aux injures ; mais, mon bon
ami, ne soyez pas trop doux s'il vous plait, soyez ferme ;
demandez-lui hautement les motifs de ce precede abominable ;
car comptez que si vous le souffrez il publiera que vous
avez souscrit a votre propre condamnation.' Mr. Hume me
remercie, se rend a mon avis, ecrit comme il fallait une
lettre modereemais tres decidee, et somme Kousseau d'alleguer
des faits, faute d'etre pris pour un calomniateur atroce. En
meme temps il envoie le duplicata de cette lettre a Mr.
Davenport, en le conjurant de presser Jean Jacques a y
repondre. L'affliction, le trouble, le desespoir reviennent
sur la scene, les nerfs sont attaques, on a le plus mauvais
visage du monde, et pour cette fois-ci Mr. Davenport ne
c 2
20 To the Marquise du Deffand [1766
mande pas que le triste philosophe est on ne peut plus gai.
II promet de satisfaire a son devoir et d'expliquer sa con-
duite. Six ordinaires passent sans qu'on entend parler de
lui ; enfin avant hier une brochure manuscrite de dix-sept
grandes pages in-folio d'ecriture tres petite ! Mais comment
vous rendre compte de ce qu'elle contenait? Des miseres,
des pu6rilit6s, des petits soupfons, des mensonges, de la
vanite, des mechancetes, des injures, c'est peu dire, 1'ingrati-
tude la plus outr6e n'a jamais joue un pareil role ; faute de
faits il impute a M. Hume jusqu'a ses regards ; quand il n'a
pas recu de r6ponse aux lettres qu'il a 6crites a ses amis,
c'est a M. Hume qu'il 1'impute ; il va jusqu'a lui dire qu'il
ne lui a jamais rendu des services essentiels, qu'il lui a
d6tourn6 des amis, et que sans M. Hume son accueil en
Angleterre aurait 6te de beaucoup plus favorable. Passant
toujours en outre, il rappelle a ce pauvre homme toutes les
fois que lui Kousseau lui a manque, c'est a dire en ne
faisant pas de reponses a ses lettres, mais en s'adressant
a d'autres etc.
II designe toutes ces circonstances par ces mots premier
soufflet sur la joue de mon patron ; second soufflet sur la joue de
mon patron. II 1'accuse de basses flagorneries a son egard,
et en meme temps de ne lui avoir pas marque assez de
tendresse. II lui reproche d'avoir toujours eu sur sa table
un volume de La Nouvelle Heloise sans etre capable du senti-
ment qui devrait le lui faire gouter; mais passons aux
articles capitaux dont tout le reste n'est que 1'emanation.
II se plaint piteusement de ce que quelques semaines apres
son arrived, 1'empressement du public a son egard se ralen-
tissait ! Ha, voila le nceud de 1'intrigue ! Quand la
curiosit6 du public etait satisfaite, quand on 1'avait vu dans
son habit armenien, quand on 1'avait regarde comme on
regarde un dromadaire, voila qui etait fini. II ne peut pas
supporter cet oubli. On 1'attaque dans les papiers publics j
1766] To the Marquise du Leffand 21
sans doute ! est-ce que nous n'avons pas des pretres et des
cabales comme il y en a partout ? Mais ce qui est plaisant,
il en accuse Mr. Hume, lui qui pour les pretres est encore
plus gros heretique que Rousseau lui-meme ; mais non, c'est
M. Hume qui lui suscite ces ennemis, qui cherche a refroidir
le public a son 6gard ; c'est exactement comme si un homme
qui, pour attraper de 1'argent, faisait debarquer un droma-
daire a Londres, mit dans les papiers publics que ce n'etait
qu'un petit chien ordinaire.
Dans 1'instant comme le fol orgueil de ce dromadaire se
sent indigne de voir tomber sa celebrity arrive la malheureuse
lettre du Roi de Prusse, voila tous les soup9ons 6claircis.
Mr. Hume connait un Mr. Walpole qui est le prete-nom
de cette lettre, mais dans laquelle M. Rousseau reconnait,
aussi precisement que s'il 1'avait vu ecrire, le style de
M. d'Alembert, autre ami de M. Hume. Rien peut-il etre
plus clair ? Voila le complot le plus artificieusement trame
depuis celui de feu Catilina. Ceci s'appelle la demonstration
intrinseque; voici des preuves extrinseques et d^monstra-
tives.
Un jeune homme qui, par parenthese, est imbecile et qui
loge a la maison oil logeait Jean Jacques, ne lui rend pas le
salut toutes les fois qu'il le rencontre sur 1'escalier. La
femme de la maison, qui est sourde, et qui ne sait pas le
fran?ais, ne lui parle pas. Un fait plus grave ; Jean Jacques
et Mr. Hume dorment a la premiere hotellerie, dans la
meme chambre ; au beau milieu de la nuit, M. Hume crie
plusieurs fois (on ne sait pas precisement, et comme on
est tres scrupuleux sur la veritS, on ne depose pas si c'etait
en revant ou en veillant) ' Je tiens Jean Jacques Rousseau ! '
Ordinairement reve-t-on dans une langue 6trangere?
N'importe; combinez toutes ces miseres qui s'appellent les
circonstances, et les circonstances, comme vous savez, ap-
paremment composent les faits, et peut-on douter de la
22 To the Countess of Suffolk [i?66
trahison des dits comploteurs ? Mr. Hume, Mr. d'Alembert,
et M. Walpole, rien de mieux constat6 ; mais a quoi bon,
me diriez-vous, ce complot? comment Mr. Hume trouvait-
il son compte en deshonorant un pauvre homme dont il
se faisait 1'honneur d'etre le conducteur, l'ami, le protecteur?
Ma foi, je n'en sais rien. Si vous me demandez, encore en
m'accordant que les mesures etaient bien prises, quelle
devait etre la r^ussite? la voici. Mr. Hume menage si
secretement tous ces affronts a Jean Jacques que Jean
Jacques ne peut rien prouver; or, Jean Jacques, dont la
penetration est plus qu'humaine, doit s'en apercevoir. S'il
s'en aperfoit il en marquera son indignation ? Eh bien, il
le fait, c'est alors le moment de lui procurer une pension.
La refoit-il? II est done un infame s'il s'assujettit a des
obligations a un homme qui 1'a si bien et si mal trait6.
Ne la regoit-il pas ? Oh, alors il ne la refoit pas, je n'en sais
plus rien, je ne vois pas comment cela se tournait en mal
pour lui. Ergo, a toute force il devait recevoir la pension,
car la penetration qui devait le servir si bien en decouvrant
le complot devait former les yeux aux consequences.
Ah Dieu, que de sornettes viens-je vous conter ! Ne
faut-il pas decider que cet homme est fou? Un fripon a
plus de finesse. Je ne vous demande pas le secret, car
toute cette histoire est de notoriet6 publique, et ce serait un
mystere mal imagine que de faire semblant que je ne vous
en aurais pas parle.
1125. To THE COUNTESS OF SUFFOLK.
Arlington Street, Thursday morning [July 17, 1766].
NOT an inch of the curtain is drawn up yet, Madam.
Mr. Pitt has a fever at Mr. Dineley's1, at Hampstead. Lord
LETTER 1125.— Collated with origi- 1 Charles Dingley (d. 1769), the
nal in British Museum. opponent of Wilkes at the Middlesex
1766] To the Countess of Suffolk 23
Temple arrived on Monday, and has been with the fever
two or three times, but whether he has caught any of it or
not, remains an impenetrable mystery. Nobody comes to
town ; in short, all is dumb-show hitherto.
Lady Montrath* is dead. She has left a mortgage of
40,000?., which she had on the Devonshire estate, to Lord
John Cavendish, whom she never saw but twice. Twicken-
ham Park to Lord Frederick his brother, but he must permit
it to be inhabited by the Duchess of Montrose till the Duke
of Newcastle dies, when the Duchess of Newcastle is to
occupy it ; and when she dies, for Lady Montrath has
settled all their deaths by entail, the Duchess of Montrose is
to return to it, and after her Lord Frederick is to enjoy it.
She leaves a thousand pounds a year to her son s, whom she
makes residuary legatee, as she makes Lord John executor,
but she gives six hundred a year in land to Lord Milton's
youngest son4, and threescore thousand pounds in small
legacies. I do not know, Madam, whether you or I have
any as neighbours, or as not being acquainted with her.
I wish much that our state puppet-show would begin or
end. I wish to see the first scene or last, and return to the
country ; the town is empty and dull, and we live upon idle
guesses.
I forget that Mr. Cambridge must have probably told you
all my news, or no news ; but at least, the will will serve
you to answer some of my Lady Tweedale's questions.
Yours, &c.
Thursday evening.
Lord Temple is not a good febrifuge. Whatever passed
between them yesterday, Mr, Pitt is much worse to-day,
and sees nobody ; not even the Duke of Grafton, who
election of 1769. The house let by Mountrath.
him to Pitt was at North End, » Charles Henry Ooote (d. 1802),
Hampetead. seventh Earl of Mountrath.
* Diana Newport, Countess of * Hon. Lionel Darner (1748-1807).
24 To Sir Horace Mann [1766
arrived this morning. If any one knows the secret, it is
Mr. Graham the apothecary.
1126. To THE HON. THOMAS WALPOLE.
DEAR SIB, Arlington Street, July 18, 1766.
I am extremely obliged to you for the testimony you have
borne in my favour, and much flattered by the sight of
Mr. Pitt's letter, which is too valuable not to restore to you.
You shall not be ashamed of having been my surety, for
what little assistance I can give Mr. Pitt, especially by my
connections, he may depend upon; and he may as much
depend upon it, that I have nothing to ask, nor shall ever
trouble him with a solicitation. To see an upright, reputable,
and lasting administration is all my wish. I was born in
politics, but do not design to die in them. The return of
L. T.1 will greatly facilitate everything : and I hope Mr. Pitt's
recovery, which is so essential to his country. I again thank
you, dear Sir, and am your faithful humble servant,
HOB. WALPOLE,
1127. To SIR HORACE MANN.
Arlington Street, July 18, 1766.
LAST post I put your blood into a little ferment ; but
now I send you a quieting draught. We were very uneasy
for four days, for Lord Temple not only came to town on
the King's summons, and by Mr. Pitt's desire, but saw both,
and, what was worse, stayed here. There was no fishing
out a syllable of what passed. Few of the present adminis-
tration, or their friends, would have stayed, if Temple had
accepted ; not a man of them, if he dragged his brother
LETTER 1126. — Not in C.; reprinted from Some Unpublished Letten of
Horace Walpole, edited by Sir Spencer Walpole (pp. 9-10).
1 Lord Temple.
1766] To Sir Horace Mann 25
George along with him. As his own acceptance would
have hampered Mr. Pitt, his Lordship's amiable temper made
that very probable ; as, if he got in himself, he might have
wriggled his brother in afterwards, it was much to be appre-
hended, for family interest visibly pointed to that measure.
Happily, family pride and malice predominated. He stickled
for George ; Mr. Pitt withstood him to his face, and would
not budge an inch. Thus mortified, he took a natural turn,
and asked Mr. Pitt what he intended to do for Lord Bute's
friends? He replied, considerably. Then came on the
rupture. Yesterday Lord Temple saw the King ; repeated
his insolent demands ; was rejected with proper spirit, and
is gone — I trust, for ever. However, he ruffled Mr. Pitt so
much, that yesterday he had a great deal of fever, and was
not able to see even the Duke of Grafton, whom he had
sent for to town.
Nothing could be so happy as these events. The nation
had scarce a wish, or at least their wishes were divided
between Mr. Pitt and the present ministers. The City was
even discontent with the prospect of a change ; yet they
wanted strength, and he brings it. All the unpopular will
remain out of place, and if they please, in opposition.
Mr. Pitt's name will cover any satisfaction that is given to
Lord Bute, and the ministers have the credit of having
resisted paying court to him. If anything can give stability,
this concurrence of popularity and integrity will.
What the changes will be, I neither know nor much care.
If the Duke of Eichmond could be satisfied, I should be
quite so, and much more so than they who see all their
wishes gratified. My whole ambition was to quit politics.
I leave them happily and gloriously settled, and an exclusion
given to the public's and my private enemies. The King
may be happy if he will, and the people are no longer in
danger of arbitrary power. The ministers will withstand
26 To George Montagu [i?66
that, and Mr. Pitt's name will keep Europe in awe. Tis
a great sera, my dear Sir, and a new birthday for England !
You are perfectly secure ; for I suppose you will not
resign your post in compliment to the Grenvilles. Your
visitor1, who has contributed a little to this storm, will by
no means find his account in it, and may possibly, therefore,
still make you another visit.
You shall hear the changes when they are settled, though
of little importance now, and I should think not likely to
extend far. Adieu !
1128. To GEOEGE MONTAGU.
Arlington Street, July 21, 1766.
You may strike up your sackbut, psaltery, and dulcimer,
for Mr. Pitt comes in1, and Lord Temple does not. Can
I send you a more welcome affirmative or negative? My
sackbut is not very sweet, and here is the ode I have made
for it :
When Britain heard the woful news,
That Temple was to be minister,
To look upon it could she choose
But as an omen most sinister?
But when she heard he did refuse,
In spite of Lady Chat his sister,
What could she do but laugh, O Muse ?
— And so she did, till she bepist her.
If that snake had wriggled in, he would have drawn after
him the whole herd of vipers, his brother Demogorgon and
all. 'Tis a blessed deliverance !
The changes I should think now would be few. They
are not yet known — but I am content already, and shall go
to Strawberry to-morrow, where I shall be happy to receive
LKTTKR 1127. — l Edward, Duke of York. Wolpole.
LUTTBB 1128.— * As Lord Privy Seal.
1766] To Sir Horace Mann 27
you and Mr. John any day after Sunday next, the twenty-
seventh, and for as many days as ever you will afford me.
Let me know your mind by the return of the post. Straw-
berry is in perfection ; the verdure has all the bloom of
spring: the orange-trees are loaded with blossoms, the
gallery all sun and gold, Mrs. Clive all sun and vermilion, —
in short, come away to
Yours ever,
H. WALPOLE.
P.S. I forgot to tell you, and I hate to steal and not tell,
that my Ode is imitated from Fontaine.
1129. To SIB HORACE MANN.
Arlington Street, July 23, 1766.
I RECEIVED yours of the 5th last night, with the enclosed
for Lord Hilsborough, which I will deliver the moment he
arrives. I am glad of every new friend you acquire,
especially in a sensible man ; but I doubt whether just at
present he can be of any use to you. He has no connection
with Mr. Pitt, who is at this moment the sole fountain of
honour, as my two last letters will have told you.
Your eagerness for the red riband I see still continues,
and I am sorry for it, both as I think it a plaything not
worth your care, and not likely to be soon gratified. In
a season of such frequent convulsions, you must be content,
I fear, to keep your seat. Though Mr. Conway will continue
in his *, the disposition of favours will not lie much in his
province ; Mr. Pitt too, I should think, would be dressing up
military men in plumes, as trophies and remembrances of
his own former glory, which may want to be recalled to the
LETTER 1129. — 1 As Secretary of and Leader of the House of Corn-
State for the Northern Province, mons.
28 To Sir Horace Mann [i?6G
people's memory. Every favour you obtain from one set of
men will be a demerit with their antagonists, and the more
garlands you wear, the sooner you may be sacrificed. The
present shock, I am persuaded, will not reach you, though
you will have a master entirely new ; Lord Shelburne will
be he2 : a destination not at all known yet, but I suppose it
will be so presently, for Mr. Pitt is at this instant with the
King, arranging the outlines of his system. The Duke of
Grafton is to be at the head of the Treasury, and Charles
Townshend Chancellor of the Exchequer. The latter was
sent for, and arrived exulting. Yesterday his crest fell
terribly ; Mr. Pitt sent him two dictatorial lines, telling
him, he was too considerable not to be in a responsible place,
and therefore would be proposed by him on the morrow to
the King for Chancellor of the Exchequer, to which he
required a positive answer by nine at night. This was
plain. You are not to remain Paymaster, but are to be
promoted from seven thousand pounds a year, to seven-and-
twenty hundred — to such contemptuous slavery has his
enormous folly reduced his enormous parts !
You see the new colour of the times : the style will be
exalted, but it will be far from meeting with universal
submission. The house of Grenville is not patient: the
great families that will be displaced are by no means
pleased. The dictator, I think, will not find his new
magistracy pass on so smoothly as his former ; but one
cannot judge entirely, till more of his plan comes forth.
I shall be able to tell you more before this letter sets out,
two days hence ; but the stability with which I flattered
myself when I wrote last, is not quite so promising as it
was. A great point, still wrapt in mysterious darkness, is,
whether Lord Bute is to be taken by the hand or not. It
will secure the closet, but shake the popularity; and Lord
2 As Secretary of State for the Southern Province.
1766] To Sir Horace Mann 29
Temple is not a man to let it pass unnoticed. Your White
Friend 3 I believe will not find him very considerable in the
new system.
I am sorry for poor Count Lorenzi 4 ; but when his services
were treated with such ingratitude, is it probable his family
will be used better ?
Prince Ferdinand has quarrelled with the King of Prussia,
and thrown up all his employments. We have had a notion
here, that he would go into the French service: the event
of Mr. Pitt might hinder that, if between his two heroes the
balance did not incline to the Monarch.
As we shall love now to humble France and Spain, your
having bullied their ministers on the Pretender's affair may
be much in your favour. On any proper occasion, I will
get Mr. Conway to set your merits forth. On every occasion
I beg you to be as haughty as may be ; you no longer
represent the King, but Mr. Pitt ; and pray keep up all the
dignity of his crown. It will be your own fault if you don't
huff yourself into a red riband. This is my serious advice ;
as well as my temper. You know I love to have the
majesty of the people of England dictate to all Europe.
Nothing would have diverted me more than to have been at
Paris at this moment. Their panic at Mr. Pitt's name is
not to be described. Whenever they were impertinent,
I used to drop, as by chance, that he would be minister in
a few days, and it never failed to occasion a dead silence.
The Prince of Masserano here is literally in a ridiculous
fright, and I don't doubt but the King his master will treat
Madrid with uncommon condescension.
Wednesday night.
You must not wonder that the style of my letters fluctuates.
Nothing wears so changeable a face as politics, especially in
3 Edward, Duke of York. Walpole.
* He had been dismissed from the post of French minister at Florence.
30 To Sir Horace Mann [1766
such unsettled times. Consider too, I write you journals,
not history. Madame History collects the result of events
and forms a gross detail. She would have enough to do if
she specified their daily ages. Well, then, I think we shall
have a good and stable settlement at last. Mr. Pitt has
opened his budget in private, but I must not send it yet.
There will be very few alterations, and no leaven. The
present administration will be retained or pacified. Charles
Townshend will be suffered to remain where he was. You
shall know more soon ; you may be easy, for I assure you
I am so. Adieu !
Friday, weather changeable.
The new plan does not move on kindly, but though there
may be hitches, it will certainly take place. Mr. Pitt is
resolved, and would not want recruits, if the present corps
should disband. He takes the Privy Seal himself, and
Lord Camden is to have the Great Seal : the Chancellor "' to
be President. Charles Townshend changed his mind again
yesterday, went to Mr. Pitt, and desired to be Chancellor of
the Exchequer. Mr. Pitt replied coldly, that the place is
full. I believe Mr. Dowdswell continues6. Mr. Pitt has
certainly been moderate, far beyond what could have been
expected, yet it does not satisfy — those that are to go out.
That old wretch the Duke of Newcastle is moving heaven
and earth (but heaven and earth are not easily moved with
a numbed finger of seventy) to raise dissatisfaction ; and
I suppose will end, like Lord Bolingbroke, laying plans at
fourscore to govern under the Prince of Wales, who is now
almost five.
6 Lord Northington.
* lie resigned, and was succeeded by Charles Townshend.
1766] To David Hume 31
1130. To DAVID HUME.
DEAR SIR, Arlington Street, July 26, 1766.
Your set of literary friends are what a set of literary men
are apt to be, exceedingly absurd. They hold a consistory
to consult how to argue with a madman ; and they think it
very necessary for your character to give them the pleasure
of seeing Kousseau exposed, not because he has provoked
you, but them. If Kousseau prints, you must ; but I cer-
tainly would not till he does1.
I cannot be precise as to the time of my writing the King
of Prussia's letter ; but I do assure you with the utmost
truth that it was several days before you left Paris, and
before Kousseau's arrival there, of which I can give you
a strong proof ; for I not only suppressed the letter while
you stayed there, out of delicacy to you, but it was the
reason why, out of delicacy to myself, I did not go to see
him, as you often proposed to me, thinking it wrong to go
and make a cordial visit to a man, with a letter in my
pocket to laugh at him. You are at full liberty, dear Sir,
to make use of what I say in your justification, either
to Kousseau or anybody else. I should be very sorry to
have you blamed on my account ; I have a hearty contempt
of Rousseau, and am perfectly indifferent what the litterati
of Paris think of the matter. If there is any fault, which
I am far from thinking, let it lie on me. No parts
can hinder my laughing at their possessor, if he is a
mountebank. If he has a bad and most ungrateful heart,
LETTER 1130. — 1 Rousseau was at pretended letter from the King of
this time convinced that Hume was Prussia, which was in fact written
conspiring against him. He wrote by Horace Walpole. Hume's literary
abusive letters to Hume, in one of friends in Paris wished him to pub-
which he accused Hume of having lish a narrative of his dealings with
assisted in the composition of the Rousseau .
32 To Sir Horace Mann [1766
as Rousseau has shown in your case, into the bargain, he
will have my scorn likewise, as he will of all good and
sensible men. You may trust your sentence to such, who
are as respectable judges as any that have pored over ten
thousand more volumes.
Yours most sincerely,
HOE. WALPOLE.
P.S. I will look out the letter and the dates as soon as
I go to Strawberry Hill.
1131. To SIR HOEACE MANN.
Arlington Street, Aug. 1, 1766.
WELL ! Europe must have done talking of Mr. Pitt ;
there is no longer such a man. He is Lord Privy Seal, and
Earl of Chatham. I don't know how Europe will like it,
but the City and the mob are very angry. The latter, by
which I do not mean to exclude the former, prove that it
was only a name they were attached to, for as he has
not advised a single measure yet, they can have no reason
to find fault. Such as know why they are angry, though
they will not tell you their true why, dislike his quitting
the House of Commons, where he had more opportunity of
doing jobs for them.
This dust will soon be laid, though my Lord Temple has
a long foot, and will keep kicking it up as long as he can.
Everything is settled but a few lower places ; and as but
few have resigned, and some full as important are acquired,
I see nothing at present to prevent the new establishment
from lasting.
The Chancellor ' is President of the Council, in the room
of Lord Winchelsea, with a pension of 4,OOOZ. a year into the
LETTER 1131. — 1 Earl of Northington. Walpole,
1766] To Sir Horace Mann 33
bargain. I neither approve the pension nor the person, for
he is never sober after dinner, and causes are only heard
before the Council in the afternoon. Lord Shelburne, as
I told you, is Secretary of State. The Duke of Grafton at
the head of the Treasury, where Charles Townshend has
fixed at last as Chancellor of the Exchequer. Colonel Barre
will have the vacant Vice-Treasurership of Ireland, and James
Grenville has another in the room of Lord George Sackville,
who is rather cruelly removed. Lord Howe returns to
Treasurer of the Navy, which had not been filled up.
Lord Camden has the Great Seal ; Wilmot succeeds him
as Chief Justice of the Common Pleas ; and Yorke has
resigned 2, finding that all his trimming and double dealing
could not make him Chancellor, and unable to digest
Pratt's 3 promotion. Mr. Mackenzie will be restored to the
Privy Seal of Scotland. Lord Dartmouth has resigned the
Board of Trade, having been on the point of becoming
third Secretary of State for America, which now will not
be disjoined from the Southern Province ; and Lord John
Cavendish has quitted the Treasury. I believe resignations
will stop here : Newcastle's people are weary of following
him in and out, and see what everybody else sees but
himself, that seventy-three and ambition are ridiculous
comrades. Mr. Stanley goes ambassador to Eussia; I do
not know who to Spain *.
So much for this revolution. I don't mean that we shall
not have lampoons and libels. My Lord Temple and the
mob are cross ; and the former was born to gratify the
latter : he has no other talent. George Grenville's endless
harangues must wait till the Parliament meets, where he
will speak so long that nobody will perceive that he has
none to speak on his side.
* He was Attorney-General. * Sir James Gray wai appointed
3 Charles Pratt, Lord Camden. in Nov. 1766.
WALPOLE. VII
34 To the President Renault [1766
Well ! have not I been punctual and diligent ? You
must now give me a few holidays. I am going to Straw-
berry, and shall think no more of politics. I carried your
letter to Lord Hilsborough, and met him in his chariot going
to court, and could only reach your letter to him. He is
talked of for coming in, but I do not know whether there
will be any room. Adieu !
1132. To THE PB&SIDENT RENAULT.
De Strawberry Hill, le 17 Aout 1766.
UNE lettre de votre part, Monsieur, ne me paye que trop
du petit present que j'ai ose vous offrir, et Lucain doit etre
plus glorieux de votre eloge que de voir sortir sa Pharsale
de la presse d'un simple particulier comme moi. Vous,
Monsieur, mettez le sceau a 1'histoire, et quiconque ose
parler avec impartialite de son propre pays est plus en etat
que personne d'apprecier les auteurs Strangers. Pour nous
autres presque republicains Lucain doit etre un auteur
prScieux, et il est vrai qu'il y a des hemistiches dans son
poe"me qui me font oublier des centaines de vers ampoules et
gigantesques.
A mon age on est bien revenu du clinquant ; il nous faut
du bon sens m£me dans la poesie, et je vous avoue que
j'aimerais mieux Virgile si j'en retenais autre chose que des
vers harmonieux. On oublie de bonne heure les poetes qui ne
parlent qu'aux passions naissantes. Votre Despreaux plaira
toujours, parce qu'on est plus longtemps sur le retour qu'on est
jeune. Mais c'est La Fontaine qui charme tous les ages. II
a 1'air d'6crire pour les enfants, et plus on avance en age plus
on lui decouvre de beautes. Tous les autres auteurs, qui ont
le plus approfondi le cosur humain, ne font que faire parler
LETTER 11 32. — Not in C. ; now first du Deffand) in possession of Mr.
printed from copy (in the hand- W. R Parker-Jervis.
writing of Wiart, secretary of Mme.
1766] To the President Renault 35
la nature, mais c'est la nature qui fait parler La Fontaine.
Dans les tragedies, dans les satires, ce sont des vices, ce
sont des crimes, qu'on voudrait n'attribuer qu'a des particu-
liers ; dans La Fontaine tout 6mane de nos dispositions ;
c'est la marche de nos penchants naturels ; et d'abord qu'on
a etabli les passions, tout le reste semble en deviner le
r6sultat necessaire. Est-on loup? On devore. Est-on
renard ? On est rus6. Est-on singe ? On est petit-maitre.
Ce n'est pas comme dans les pieces de theatre oil tout se fait
de dessein pr6m6dit6, et ou Ton souffle ses passions, plutot
qu'on ne les obeit. Pardonnez, Monsieur, cette petite critique.
Vous m'avez entrain^, et votre exemple est bien seduisant.
Mais je sais a qui je parle et je m'arrete ; mais plaignez un
Stranger, Monsieur, qui se sentant du gout pour vos auteurs
admirables, n'est que trop convaincu combien des beautes
doivent lui 6chapper: car je ne suis pas de ces genies
heureux qui saisissent les meilleurs endroits des auteurs
etrangers, et savent en enrichir leur propre pays. Tout le
monde, apres avoir lu notre Shakespeare, ne produit pas un
Francois Second l.
Je ne dois pas quitter la plume sans vous feliciter,
Monsieur, du r6tablissement de la sante de la Eeine. Je
sais combien vous vous interessez a cette vie precieuse ;
mais permettez-moi de vous dire que ce n'est pas unique-
ment sur votre compte que je m'y interesse aussi. La
vertu de la Eeine la fait adorer de tout le monde ; et rendez-
moi la justice de croire, Monsieur, que si chez nous on
menage moins qu'ailleurs les defauts des princes, nous
savons aussi respecter a proportion ceux qui meritent notre
estime. Eh ! que nous serions barbares si nous ne rendis-
sions volontiers 1'hommage du au caractere incomparable de
la Keine de France. Sa haute piete dans un siecle illumine est
toute autre chose que celle des princesses qui font le principal
1 Hdnatdt wrote a play of that name.
D 2
36 To Sir Horace Mann [i766
et peut-etre le seul ornement de la premiere partie de votre
inimitable Abrege Chronologique.
Oserai-je vous supplier, Monsieur, de presenter mes tres
respectueuses a compliments a Mesdames vos nieces, et de me
conserver un petit coin de votre amitie ? Vos bontes passees
m'ont enhardi, et je sais que vous n'etes pas homme a
manquer a ceux qui ont autant d'attachement et de respect
pour vous que n'a, Monsieur,
Votre tres humble et tres obeissant serviteur,
HORACE WALPOLE.
1133. To SIB HOEACE MANN.
Strawberry Hill, Sept. 9, 1766.
I HAVE had nothing great to tell you since my last.
Lord Chatham continues to be ill-treated by the mob and
the gout, and is going to Bath. The Bedford-squadron
offered themselves : there was not room for them ; the
Admiralty was tendered to Lord Gower, but he would not
sell himself by retail; and it was given to Sir Charles
Saunders, Lord Egmont having resigned it. Lord Granby
is made Commander-in-Chief, to the mortification and emolu-
ment of Lord Ligonier, who has accepted an Irish earl's
coronet for his ancient brows and approaching coffin, and
got fifteen hundred a year pension settled on his nephew.
In consideration of Lord Granby's preferment, his father
has given up Master of the Horse, to which Lord Hertford
succeeds, that Lord Bristol1 may go to Ireland. He was
going to the south of France, dying, but the sole prospect
of a throne, ermine, and Beef-eaters, has cured him. The
nomination of this nymph to rule Huns and Vandals is the
joke of all companies — I dread his being brought to bed, like
Pope Joan, as he goes to Parliament.
2 So in original. Hervey, second Earl of Bristol.
LBTTBB 1133.— ' George William Walpole,
1766] To Sir Horace Mann 37
I don't like your prospect of famine ; for your change of
ministry, pass. Our harvest, though the season has been
so fine, turns out ill, the preceding rains having starved it
with weeds. At least, as every incident contributes to raise
prices, bread is raised, and people are very clamorous against
exportation of corn. There is no living in this country
under twenty thousand pounds a year ; not that that suf-
fices, but it entitles one to ask a pension for two or three
lives.
Your Prince of Anhalt is come, and I have sent him
your letter, but he is on a progress. I know nothing of
Mr. Skreene yet.
Of myself I can give you but a melancholy account. For
these five or six weeks I have been extremely out of order,
with pains in my stomach and limbs, and a lassitude that
wore me out. They tell me it is the gout flying about me.
If there is any difference, but I hate haggling about obscuri-
ties, I should rather think it the rheumatism. However,
I am to go to ask the Bath waters what it is, and where they
would please to have it settle. What afflicts me most is,
that I am persuaded this place is too damp for me. I revive
after being in London an hour, like a member of Parlia-
ment's wife. It will be a cruel fate, after having laid out
so much money here, and building upon it as the nest of
my old age, if I am driven from it by bad health ! To be
forced back into the world, when I am sick of it ; to live in
London, that I detest, or to send myself to Paris, that
I like as little ; to find no benefit from a life of temperance,
to sit by a fire instead of braving winds and weather ; in
short, to grow to moralize — oh, 'tis piteous enough !
I dread owning I am ill, because everybody talks nonsense
to one, and wants to quack one ; concealing it looks like an
affectation of philosophy, which I despise. In physicians
I believe no more than in divines — in short, I was not made
38 To Lady Mary Coke [i766
for an invalid; I mean my mind was not, and my body
seems made for nothing else. I thought I could harden
paper to the consistence of stone — I am disappointed, and
do not like it ; for, though I can laugh at myself, I shall
be tired of laughing long at the same thing; in short,
I might as well have conquered the world. Sententious
poets would have told me, it signified little, as I had not
conquered myself. I have conquered myself, and to very
little purpose ! Wisdom and foresight are just as foolish
as anything else, when you know the bottom of them.
Adieu !
P.S. I have begged you to send home my letters. Pray
do: there are five years to come, and I have particular
occasion for some passages. I need not desire they may be
trusted to a safe hand. I must beg you too, if you can get
them, to send me the other volumes of Herculaneum ;
I have never had but the first, and the catalogue, which
last has no prints. They must not be bound, that I may
bind them as like the first as I can. This is asking you to
send me a present, but I have no scruple with you, though
I am so delicate on that head, that I should be sorry some
of my first friends knew, that so far from refusing presents,
as I do from them, I had begged one.
1134. To LADY MAEY COKE.
Wednesday, noon.
WEAK as I am, dear Lady Mary, I cannot but write one
line to thank you and tell you how I am. I have had
a violent attack in my stomach, bowels, and back, of what
Dr. Pringle says is the gout, accompanied with intolerable
LETTER 1184. — Not in C. ; reprinted from Letters and Journals of
Lady Mary Coke, vol. iii. pp. zxi-xxii.
1766] To the Rev. William Cole 39
sickness. I much doubt myself whether it was the gout,
but I am too low to haggle about words. My pains are
certainly removed, or much abated, but my nights are still
miserable enough, and I am seldom able to lie in bed past
three or four o'clock in the morning, when I rise and get
a little sleep upon the bed *. This regimen is the Philoso-
pher's Stone, for it has perfectioned me into complete gold-
colour. Besides this I am to be Bath-git a, whither I shall
go when I have recovered a little strength. If you should
come to town within these three or four days, you will,
I think, still find me on my couch here. I beg your pardon
for giving you such a wretched assignation, but you can
have no more of a cat than his skin and a few bones.
1135. To LADY MARY COKE.
Wednesday evening.
I DID send your Ladyship a card to Sudbrook this morn-
ing, but hearing you are in town, and so good as to desire
Dr. Pringle would send you an account of me, I do it for
him. I am certainly better than I was, but I think not so
well as he says. I have very bad nights and languid days.
In the evening I get a little life, and as I am always willing
to dedicate it to you, I advertise you that my inch of candle
begins burning about seven o'clock.
1136. To THE EEV. WILLIAM COLE.
DEAR SlR, Arlington Street, Sept. 18, 1766.
I am exceedingly obliged to you for your very friendly
letter, and hurt at the absurdity of the newspapers that
occasioned the alarm. Sure I am not of consequence enough
1 So in original. LBTTXB 1185. — Not in C. ; re-
8 So in original ; perhaps Bath- printed from Letters and Journal* of
gilt ? Lady Mary Coke, vol. iii. p. xxiii
40 To George Montagu [i?66
to be lied about ! It is true I am ill, have been extremely
so, and have been ill long, but with nothing like paralytic, as
they have reported me. It has been this long disorder
alone that has prevented my profiting of your company
at Strawberry, according to the leave you gave me of asking
it. I have lived upon the road between that place and this,
never settled there, and uncertain whether I should go to
Bath or abroad. Yesterday se'nnight I grew exceedingly
ill indeed, with what they say has been the gout in my
stomach, bowels, back, and kidneys. The worst seems
over, and I have been to take the air to-day for the first
time, but bore it so ill that I don't know how soon I shall
be able to set out for Bath, whither they want me to go
immediately. As that journey makes it very uncertain
when I shall be at Strawberry again, and as you must
want your cups and pastils, will you tell me if I can convey
them to you any way safely ?
Excuse my saying more to-day, as I am so faint and
weak, but it was impossible not to acknowledge your kind-
ness the first minute I was able. Adieu 1
Dear Sir,
Yours ever,
HOK. WALPOLE.
1137. To GEOBGE MONTAGU.
Strawberry Hill, Sept. 23, 1766.
I AM this moment come hither with Mr. Chute, who
has showed me your most kind and friendly letter, for
which I give you a thousand thanks. It did not surprise
me, for you cannot alter.
I have been most extremely ill ; indeed, never well since
I saw you. However, I think it is over, and that the gout
is gone without leaving a codicil in my foot. Weak I am
1766] To Sir Horace Mann 41
to the greatest degree, and no wonder. Such explosions
make terrible havoc in a body of paper. I shall go to the
Bath in a few days, which they tell me will make my quire
of paper hold out a vast while ! As to that, I am neither
credulous or earnest. If it can keep me from pain and
preserve me the power of motion, I shall be content. Mr.
Chute, who has been good beyond measure, goes with me
for a few days. A thousand thanks and compliments to
Mr. and Mrs. Whetenhall and Mr. John, and excuse my
writing more, as I am a little fatigued with my little
journey. Yours ever,
H. W.
1138. To SIB HORACE MANN.
Arlington Street, Sept. 25, 1766.
WHEN I told you in my last I was ill, I did not think it
would prove so very serious as it has done. It turned to
an attack on my stomach, bowels, and back, with continued
vomitings for four days. You will ask what it was? so
I did. The physician (for Lord Hertford and Mr. Conway
sent for one, whether I would or not) pronounced it the gout ;
and because he had pronounced so, was determined it should
be so, and plied me with fire, gunpowder, and all the artillery
of the College, till, like a true general, he had almost reduced
the place to a heap of ashes. This made me resolved to die
in my own way, that is coolly. I refused to take a drop more
of his prescriptions ; have mended ever since ; and am really
now quite well, and quite convinced that it was no more
the gout than the smallpox, but a violent disorder in my
stomach. This was my first physician, and shall be my
last. How dear one pays for health and justice ; and how
seldom one obtains them even for buying !
I am going to the Bath, with more opinion of the
journey and change of air, than of the waters, for even
42 To Sir Horace Mann [i766
water may be too hot for me. 'Tis a sort of complaisance
too ; and all these trials, when one is no longer young,
I regard but as taking pains to be well against one dies.
I am pretty indifferent when that may be, but not so
patient under the appendixes of illness : — the advice every-
body gives one, — their infallible remedies, and, what is
worse, being confined, and thereby exposed to every idle
body's visit, and every interested body's flattery that expects
a legacy. I had a relation the other day with me, whom
I very seldom see, and who begged I would excuse, as
I was so ill, her not being able to help laughing violently
at some very trifling thing I said. I will leave her
a certain cure for that laugh ; that is, nothing.
Would you believe that such a granary as England has
been in as much danger as your mountains ? not of famine,
but of riots. The demands for corn have occasioned so
much to be exported, that our farmers went on raising
the price of wheat till the poor could not buy bread ;
indeed, they will eat none but the best. Insurrections have
happened in several counties, and worse were apprehended.
Yesterday the King, by the unanimous advice of his
Council, took upon him to lay an embargo, which was
never done before in time of peace. It will make much
clamour, among the interested, both in interest and politics ;
but in general will be popular. The dearness of every-
thing is enormous and intolerable, for the country is so
rich that it makes everybody poor. The luxury of tradesmen
passes all belief. They would forfeit their characters with
their own profession if they exercised an economy that
would be thought but prudent in a man of quality in any
other country. Unless the mob will turn reformers and
rise, or my Lord Clive sends over diamonds enough for
current coin, I do not see how one shall be able soon to
purchase necessaries.
1766] To tJie Comtesse de Forcalquier 43
Count Schoualloff, the favourite of the late Czarina —
pray mind, not of this tigress — is here. I knew him at
Paris, and when he was here before, and love him much,
as one of the most humane, amiable beings upon earth.
He is wandering about Europe till this tyranny be overpast,
and talks of going to Italy. Pray be acquainted with him :
your two natures were made for one another. He is very
ill paired with Kasomoufski, the late Hetman of the Tartars,
who was forced into the conspiracy, as they say, against
the murdered Czar. The woman he served has displaced
him, but given him a pension of twelve thousand pounds
sterling a year. He is a noble figure, of the Tartar mould ;
but I do not advise you to cultivate him. I have refused
to be acquainted with him, though Schoualloff desired to
bring him to me. He is not a Brutus to my mind. <
Adieu !
1139. To THE COMTESSE DE FOECALQUIEE.
MADAME,
Kien ne pouvait etre aussi heureux pour moi que de
trouver une personne a qui toujours j'ai d6sir6 temoigner
les marques les plus vraies de mon respect et de ma recon-
naissance entendre 1'anglais. Je suis, Madame, trouble
a Pexces, et je ne sais si jamais je serai assez os6 pour 6crire
ou pour parler un mot de fra^ais dorenavant. M. le
President Henault a un tel zele et attachement pour la
Keine, une telle partialite pour moi qu'il a envoys a Sa
Majeste une lettre de moi dans laquelle etait un compli-
ment pour lui a 1'occasion de la bonne sante dont elle
jouit maintenant ; cela, Madame, m'a cause la derniere
confusion, et si ce n'eut 6te de la plus grande mechancete
LETTER 11 39. — Not in C. ; now first W. B. Parker-Jervis. Madame de
printed from copy (in the hand- Forcalquier was a Parisian Mend of
writing of Wiart, secretary of Mme. Horace Walpole.
da Deffand) in possession of Mr.
44 To the Comtesse de Forcalquier [i766
j'aurais d6sir6 que la Eeine n'eut pas possede le quart de
toutes ses vertus, parce qu'alors je n'aurais pas ete tente de
m'6tendre sur ses perfections. De grace, Madame, ayez
piti6 de moi, songez que je suis un inconnu, un obscur
etranger, dont la miserable lettre se trouve produite dans
un francais barbare ; et ou ? a Versailles. Eh quoi, Madame,
vous me blamer de ne pas retourner a Paris I Dieu me
pardonne, je n'aurais jamais la hardiesse d'y remontrer mon
visage. Pourriez-vous meme vous en etonner lorsque vos
compatriotes me traitent ainsi ? Vous pourriez me dire que
tout cela vient de la grande bonte du President ; pour moi
je sais que les extremes sont proches et je vous assure que
j'ai souffert autant que s'il avait eu 1'intention de me
blesser ; et ce qui me met au desespoir c'est au lieu d'etre
en colere je ne sens qu'un sentiment de reconnaissance, etant
bien convaincu du motif obligeant qui 1'a fait agir. Dans
le vrai, Madame, je ne sais comment me venger de votre
nation. Si votre lettre n'etait pas la plus aimable qui
ait jamais et6 6crite je 1'aurais deja montree a ma souveraine,
mais la consequence m'a arrete ; elle m'aurait dit, ' Pour-
quoi done ne retournez-vous pas dans un pays ou vous etes
invit^ par une femme charmante, qui ecrit aussi agreable-
ment qu'elle regarde?' Voulez-vous, Madame, accepter
une condition ? celle de me dispenser de prononcer un mot
de francais — alors, tout aussitot je m'embarque du premier
instant que ma sant6 sera un peu retablie. ou que les eaux de
Bath me 1'auront rendue. J'ai ete extremement incommode
depuis un mois, sans quoi je n'aurais pas tant differe de
vous rendre mille graces de la lettre que vous m'avez fait
1'honneur de m'ecrire. Je suis mieux depuis un jour ou
deux, mais il me semble qu'un invalide ne merite pas
1'avantage de vous faire sa cour, d'ailleurs je ne suis pas
sur d'etre moins malade. Peut-etre n'est-ce meme que
1'aventure de ma lettre a Versailles, qui m'a cause une
1766] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 45
agitation que je prends pour une existence plus vivante.
Cela peut s'appeler une erreur de sante. Quant a Madame
du Deffand, je declare que si elle n'apprend pas rmmediate-
ment 1'anglais, je ne veux plus retourner dans le cher
petit cabinet bleu. Je vous supplierais, Madame, de le lui
apprendre, si je ne savais que vous etes fort occupee par des
soins tendres et affligeants aupres de Madame la Comtesse
de Toulouse l. Madame du Deffand, comme si elle pensait
que je n'admirais pas assez vos perfections, m'a donn6 un
recit de ce que 1'amitie vous faisait exercer dans cette triste
circonstance, et je ne doute pas qu'une conduite comme la
votre ne soit recompensed par un coeur qui en sent le prix.
Je n'en suis pas moins oblige £ Madame du Deffand ; elle
a jug6 par sa propre admiration de vous si je serais charm6
de la part ger.
Je ne me connais point en politique, Madame, et comme
Milord Chatham se propose d'aller aux eaux de Bath ainsi
que moi, vous ne manquerez pas d'apprendre si lui et moi
meditons quelque revolution considerable. II doit etre ami
de la France ou nous ne nous conviendrons pas, car puis-je,
Madame, vous connaitre, et ne pas faire des voeux pour un
pays que vous habitez ?
J'ai 1'honneur d'etre, &c.
1140. To THE HON. HENRY SEYMOUB CONWAY.
Bath, Oct. 2, 1766.
I ARRIVED yesterday at noon, and bore my journey per-
fectly well, except that I had the headache all yesterday;
but it is gone to-day, or at least made way for a little
giddiness which the water gave me this morning at first.
If it does not do me good very soon, I shall leave it ; for
I dislike the place exceedingly, and am disappointed in it.
1 Marie Victoire Sophie de Noailles, of the legitimated sons of Louis XIV.
Comtesse de Toulouse, widow of one She died Sept. 23, 1766.
46 To George Montagu [1766
Their new buildings that are so admired, look like a col-
lection of little hospitals ; the rest is detestable ; and all
crammed together, and surrounded with perpendicular hills
that have no beauty. The river is paltry enough to be the
Seine or Tiber. Oh, how unlike my lovely Thames !
I met my Lord Chatham's coach yesterday full of such
Grenville-looking children, that I shall not go to see him
this day or two l ; and to-day I spoke to Lady Kockingham
in the street. My Lords Chancellor * and President s are
here, and Lord and Lady Powis. Lady Malpas arrived
yesterday. I shall visit Miss Kich4 to-morrow. In the
next apartment to mine lodges . I have not seen him
some years ; and he is grown either mad or superannuated,
and talks without cessation or coherence : you would think
all the articles in a dictionary were prating together at
once. The Bedfords are expected this week. There are
forty thousand others that I neither know nor intend to
know. In short, it is living in a fair, and I am heartily sick
of it already. Adieu ! Yours ever,
HOE. WALPOLE.
1141. To GEORGE MONTAGU.
Bath, Oct. 5, 1766.
YES, thank you, I am quite well again ; and if I had not
a mind to continue so, I would not remain here a day
longer, for I am tired to death of the place. I sit down by
the waters of Babylon and weep, when I think of thee,
oh Strawberry ! The elements certainly agree with me,
but I shun the gnomes and salamanders, and have not once
LBTTBB 1140. — T Miss Berry here 2 Lord Camden.
notes that ' Mr. Walpole in general s Lord Northington.
disliked being in company with * Miss Mary Bich, siater of Lady
children, to whom he was little ac- Ailesbury's friend Lady Lyttelton.
oustomed.'
1766] To the Countess of Suffolk 47
been at the Eooms. Mr. Chute stays with me till Tuesday ;
when he is gone, I do not know what I shall do, for I
cannot play at cribbage by myself, and the alternative is to
see my Lady Vane open the ball, and glimmer at fifty-four.
All my comfort is, that I lodge close to the Cross Bath, by
which means I avoid the Pump Room and all its works.
We go to dine and see Bristol to-morrow, which will ter-
minate our sights, for we are afraid of your noble cousins
at Badminton ; and, as Mrs. Allen l is just dead, and
Warburton entered upon the premises, you may swear
we shall not go thither 2.
Lord Chatham, the late and present Chancellors, and
sundry more, are here ; and their Graces of Bedford expected.
I think I shall make your Mrs. Trevor* and Lady Lucy * a visit,
but it is such an age since we met, that I suppose we shall
not know one another by sight.
Adieu ! These watering-places, that mimic a capital, and
add vulgarisms and familiarities of their own, seem to me
like abigails in cast gowns, and I am not young enough to
take up with either.
Yours ever,
H. WALPOLE.
1142. To THE COUNTESS OP SUFFOLK.
MADAM, Bath, Oct. 6, 1766.
Your Ladyship ordered me to give you an account of
myself, and I can give you a very good one. The waters
LETTER 1141. — * Elizabeth Holder, of first Earl Stanhope. She ap-
second wife of Ralph Allen, the benc- parently lived in Bath with Mrs.
factor of Pope and Fielding. Trevor and her sister Lady Jane
2 Prior Park. Bishop Warburton Stanhope. (See Suffolk Correepon-
married Allen's favourite niece, dence, vol. ii. pp. 246 and 247, and
Gertrude Tucker. 249-50.)
a Probably Montagu's aunt or first LETTER 1142. — Collated with origi-
cousin. (See Table II.) nal in British Museum.
* Lady Lucy Stanhope, daughter
48 To the Countess of Suffolk [i?66
agree with me as well as possible, and do not heat me : all
I have to complain of is, that they have bestowed such an
appetite upon me, that I expect to return as fat as a hog,
that is, something bigger than a lark. I hope this state
of my health will content your Ladyship, and that you are
not equally anxious about my pleasure, which does not go
on quite so rapidly. I am tired to death of the place, and
long to be at home, and grieve to lose such a delightful
October. The waters agree so well with the trees in this
country, that they have not a wrinkle or a yellow leaf, and
the sun shines as brightly as it can possibly through such
mists. I regret its beams being thrown away on such a
dirty ditch as their river.
I have not yet been at ball-rooms, or Pump Koom, for
I steal my glass at the Cross Bath. We have all kind
of folk here, Lord Chatham, the Chancellor, the Dowager
Chancellor1, Lady Kockingham, Lady Scarborough, Lord
and Lady Powis, Lord and Lady Spencer, judges, bishops,
and Lady Vane. It is my own fault if I do not keep the
best company, for the mayor of the town has invited me to
his feast ; but as I cannot be inconstant to the Mayor of
Lynn, I have sent an excuse, with such a deplorable account
of my health, that it will require all my paleness and lean-
ness to bear me out.
Lord Chatham has still a little gout in his arm, but takes
the air. My Lord President goes to the balls, but I believe
had rather go to the ale-house. Lady Vane, I hear, opens
the balls, since it is too late for her now to go anywhere
else. This is all I know of people I have not seen. As
I shall not stay above a fortnight longer, I do not propose
to learn the language. I hope to find your Ladyship in
perfect health at my return ; but though the banks of the
Thames are a little pleasanter than those of the Avon,
1 Lord Northington, Lord President of the Council.
1766] To John Chute 49
I beg you will not sit by the former till midnight. The
Bath is sure of doing me some good, for I shall take great
care of myself, for fear of being sent hither again.
I am, Madam,
Your Ladyship's
Most obedient
Humble servant,
HORACE WALPOLE.
1143. To JOHN CHUTE.
Bath, Oct. 10, 1766.
I AM impatient to hear that your charity to me has not
ended in the gout to yourself — all my comfort is, if you
have it, that you have good Lady Brown to nurse you.
My health advances faster than my amusement. How-
ever, I have been at one opera, Mr. Wesley's. They have
boys and girls with charming voices, that sing hymns, in
parts, to Scotch ballad tunes ; but indeed so long, that one
would think they were already in eternity, and knew how
much time they had before them. The chapel is very neat,
with true Gothic windows (yet I am not converted) ; but
I was glad to see that luxury is creeping in upon them
before persecution : they have very neat mahogany stands for
branches, and brackets of the same in taste. At the upper
end is a broad haut-pas of four steps, advancing in the
middle: at each end of the broadest part are two of my
eagles1, with red cushions for the parson and clerk.
Behind them rise three more steps, in the midst of which
is a third eagle for pulpit. Scarlet armed-chairs to all
three. On either hand, a balcony for elect ladies. The
rest of the congregation sit on forms. Behind the pit, in
LETTER 1143. — 1 Eagles in the attitude of the marble one at Strawberry
Hill.
WALPOLB. VII
50 To George Montagu [1766
a dark niche, is a plain table within rails ; so you see the
throne is for the apostle. Wesley is a lean elderly man,
fresh-coloured, his hair smoothly combed, but with a soupcon
of curl at the ends. Wondrous clean, but as evidently an
actor as Garrick. He spoke his sermon, but so fast, and
with so little accent, that I am sure he has often uttered it,
for it was like a lesson. There were parts and eloquence in
it ; but towards the end he exalted his voice, and acted very
ugly enthusiasm ; decried learning, and told stories, like
Latimer, of the fool of his college, who said, ' I thanks God
for everything.' Except a few from curiosity, and some
honourable women, the congregation was very mean. There
was a Scotch Countess of Buchan a, who is carrying a pure
rosy vulgar face to heaven, and who asked Miss Eich,
if that was the author of the poets. I believe she meant me
and the Nolle Authors.
The Bedfords came last night. Lord Chatham was with
me yesterday two hours ; looks and walks well, and is in
excellent political spirits.
Yours ever,
HOB. WALPOLE.
1144. To GrEOBGE MONTAGU.
Bath, Oct. 18, 1766.
WELL! I went last night to see Lady Lucy and Mrs.
Trevor, was let in, and received with great kindness. I
found them little altered ; Lady Lucy was much undressed,
but looks better than when I saw her last, and as well as
one could expect; no shyness nor singularity, but very
easy and conversable. They have a very pretty house, with
two excellent rooms on a floor, and extremely well furnished.
8 Agnea (d. 1778), daughter of Sir Henry David Erskine, tenth Earl of
James Steuart, Baronet; m. (1739) Uuoliun.
1766] To George Montagu 51
You may be sure your name was much in request. If I had
not been engaged, I could have stayed much longer with satis-
faction ; and if I am doomed, as probably I shall be, to come
hither again, they would be a great resource to me, for I
find much more pleasure now in renewing old acquaintances
than in forming new.
The waters do not benefit me so much as at first ; the
pains in my stomach return almost every morning, but do
not seem the least allied to the gout. This decrease of their
virtue is not near so great a disappointment to me as you
might imagine ; for I am so childish as not to think health
itself a compensation for passing my time very disagreeably.
I can bear the loss of youth heroically, provided I am com-
fortable, and can amuse myself as I like. But health does
not give one the sort of spirits that make one like diversions,
public places, and mixed company. Living here is being
a shopkeeper, who is glad of all kinds of customers; but
does not suit me, who am leaving off trade. I shall depart
on Wednesday, even on the penalty of coming again. To
have lived three weeks in a fair appears to me a century !
I am not at all in love with their country, which so charms
everybody. Mountains are very good frames to a prospect,
but here they run against one's nose, nor can one stir out
of the town without clambering. It is true one may live
as retired as one pleases, and may always have a small
society. The place is healthy, everything is cheap, and the
provisions better than ever I tasted. Still I have taken an
insuperable aversion to it, which I feel rather than can
account for. I do not think you would dislike it : so you
see I am just in general, though very partial as to my own
particular.
You have raised my curiosity about Lord Scarsdale's *,
yet I question whether I shall ever take the trouble of
LETTER 1144. — ' Kedleaton, in Derbyshire.
E 2
52 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [1766
visiting it. I grow every year more averse to stirring
from home, and putting myself out of my way. If I can
but be tolerably well at Strawberry, my wishes are bounded.
If I am to live at watering-places, and keep what is called
good hours, life itself will be very indifferent to me. I do
not talk very sensibly, but I have a contempt for that
fictitious character styled philosophy ; I feel what 1 feel,
and say I feel what I do feel. Adieu !
Yours ever,
H. W.
1145. To THE HON. HENRY SEYMOUR CONWAY.
Bath, Oct. 18, 17G6.
You have made me laugh, and somebody else l makes me
stare. How can one wonder at anything he does, when he
knows so little of the world ? I suppose the next step will
be to propose me for Groom of the Bedchamber to the new
Duke of Cumberland 2. But why me ? Here is that hope-
ful young fellow, Sir John Eushout, the oldest member of
the House, and, as extremes meet, very proper to begin
again ; why overlook him ? However, as the secret is kept
from me myself, I am perfectly easy about it. I shall call
to-day or to-morrow to ask his commands, but certainly
shall not obey those you mention.
The waters certainly are not so beneficial to me as at first :
I have almost every morning my pain in my stomach.
I do not pretend this to be the cause of my leaving Bath.
The truth is, I cannot bear it any longer. You laugh at
my regularity ; but the contrary habit is so strong in me,
that I cannot continue such sobriety. The public rooms,
LETTER 1145. — 1 Lord Chatham, who wished Horace Walpole to move
the Address in the House of Commons.
2 Prince Henry Frederick, so created in Oct. 1766.
1766] To George Montagu 53
and the loo, where we play in a circle, like the hazard
on Twelfth-night, are insupportable. This coming into the
world again, when I am so weary of it, is as bad and
ridiculous as moving an Address would be. I have no
affectation ; for affectation is a monster at nine-and- forty ;
but if I cannot live quietly, privately, and comfortably,
I am perfectly indifferent about living at all. I would
not kill myself, for that is a philosopher's affectation, and
I will come hither again if I must ; but I shall always drive
very near, before I submit to do anything I do not like.
In short, I must be as foolish as I please, so long as I can
keep without the limits of absurdity. What has an old
man to do but to preserve himself from parade on one hand,
and ridicule on the other? Charming youth may indulge
itself in either, may be censured, will be envied, and has
time to correct. Adieu !
Yours ever,
HOR. WALPOLE.
Monday evening.
You are a delightful manager of the House of Commons,
to reckon 540, instead of 565 ! Sandwich was more accu-
rate in lists, and would not have miscounted 25, which are
something in a division.
1146. To GEOEGE MONTAGU.
Strawberry Hill, Oct. 22, 1766.
THEY may say what they will, but it does one ten times
more good to leave Bath than to go to it. I may some-
times drink the waters, as Mr. Bentley used to say I in-
vited company hither that I did not care for, that I might
enjoy the pleasure of their going away. My health is
certainly mended, but I did not feel the satisfaction of it
54: To George Montagu [i766
till I got home. I have still a little rheumatism in one
shoulder, which was not dipped in Styx, and is still mortal ;
but, while I went to the Booms, or stayed in my chambers
in a dull court, I thought I had twenty complaints. I don't
perceive one of them.
Having no companion but such as the place afforded, and
which I did not except *, my excursions were very few ;
besides that the city is so guarded with mountains, that
I had not patience to be jolted like a pea in a drum, in my
chaise alone. I did go to Bristol, the dirtiest great shop
I ever saw, with so foul a river, that, had I seen the least
appearance of cleanliness, I should have concluded they
washed all their linen in it, as they do at Paris. Going
into the town, I was struck with a large Gothic building,
coal-black, and striped with white ; I took it for the Devil's
cathedral. When I came nearer, I found it was an uniform
castle, lately built, and serving for stables and offices to
a smart false Gothic house on the other side of the road.
The real cathedral is very neat, and has pretty tombs ;
besides two windows of painted glass, given by Mrs. Ellen
Gwyn 2. There is a new church besides of St. Nicholas, neat
and truly Gothic ; besides a charming old church at the
other end of the town. The cathedral or abbey at Bath
is glaring and crowded with modern tablet-monuments.
Among others, I found two, of my cousin Sir Erasmus
Phillips8, and of Colonel Madan4. Your cousin Bishop
Montagu 5 decked it much. I dined one day with an agree-
LBTTEE 1146. — l So in MS. Bassetfc.
a The east windows of the choir 5 James Montagu (d. 1618), son of
aisles of Bristol Cathedral are tradi- Sir Edward Montagu, of Boughton,
tionally said to have been given by Northamptonshire, and brother of
Nell Gwyn, mistress of Charles II. first Earl of Manchester. He died
8 Fifth Baronet, of Picton Castle, Bishop of Winchester. He was pre-
Pembrokeshire, related to Horace viously (1608-16) Bishop of Bath and
Walpole through the latter's mother. Wells, and as such interested him-
* Probably Colonel Martin Madan self in the restoration of Bath
{d. 1766), sometime M.P. for Wootton Abbey.
1766] To George Montagu 65
able family, two miles from Bath, a Captain Miller6 and
his wife, and her mother, Mrs. Riggs. They have a small
new-built house, with a bow-window, directly opposite to
which the Avon falls in a wide cascade, a church behind it
in a vale, into which two mountains descend, leaving an
opening into the distant country. A large village, with
houses of gentry, is on one of the hills to the left. Their
garden is little, but pretty, and watered with several small
rivulets among the bushes. Meadows fall down to the
road ; and above, the garden is terminated by another view
of the river, the city, and the mountains. 'Tis a very
diminutive principality, with large pretensions.
I must tell you a quotation I lighted upon t'other day
from Persius, the application of which has much diverted
Mr. Chute. You know my Lord Milton, from nephew of
the old usurer Darner7 of Dublin, has endeavoured to erect
himself into the representative of the ancient Barons
Damory —
Momenta turbinis exit
Marcus Dama.
Apropos, or rather not apropos, I wish you joy of the
restoration of the dukedom 8 in your house ; though I be-
lieve we both think it very hard upon my Lady Beaulieu.
8 Captain John Miller (d. 1798), (not always with respect) by various
created a Baronet in 1778 ; m. (1765) contemporary writers, including
Anna, daughter of Edward Biggs. Horace Walpole and Madame d'Ar-
She inherited a large fortune from hlay.
her grandfather. The house at Bath- 7 Joseph Darner (d. 1720), a Dublin
easton, near Bath, visited by \Val- merchant. Swift wrote two poems
pole, was built by the Millers. In on his death, an Elegy and an JEpi-
1771 they travelled in Italy. After taph.
their return Mrs. Miller published 8 The Earl of Cardigan was created
Letters from Italy, which reached Duke of Montagu in November 1766.
a second edition. From 1778 until He married the younger of the two
her death in 1781 Lady Miller (as she daughters and co-heiresses of the last
then was) presided over a literary Duke of Montagu, and his son had
salon. These assemblies, to which already been created Baron Montagu
all visitors to Bath of taste and of Boughton. The elder sister (Lady
fashion were invited, attracted con- Beaulieu) had no issue,
siderable notice, and are mentioned
I
56 To Sir Horace Mann [1766
I made a second visit to Lady Lucy and Mrs. Trevor, and
saw the latter one night at the Eooms. She did not appear
to me so little altered as in the dusk of her own chamber.
Adieu.
Yours ever,
H. W.
1147. To LADY MARY COKE.
IT is impossible for me, dear Madam, not to tell you how
much I was touched at your loss. I will, however, say very
little, as you know how sincerely I interest myself in what-
ever concerns you. I have the additional reason of having
known and greatly esteemed your nephew1. May the re-
maining one compensate for what is gone ! When I come
to town again, I hope to find you recovered from the first
shock.
1148. To SIE HOEACE MANN.
Arlington Street, Oct. 26, 1766.
I CAME to town yesterday from the Bath ; and at night
Lady Hertford told me what an anxious letter you had
written to old Mr. Larpent l about me : she heard it from
his son. I did not doubt, my dear Sir, your affection to me,
and therefore this indirect way has not increased my per-
suasion of it. As there was no probability of its coming to
my knowledge, such an accident might be very satisfactory
to another; but I am glad to tell you, it has not added
LETTER 1147 . — Not in C. ; reprinted wards Lady Greenwich). He died in
from Letters and Journals of Lady Paris on Oot 20, 1766.
Mary Coke, vol. iii. p. xxii LETTER 1148. — l Probably John
1 The Hon. Hew Campbell Scott, Larpent, one of the Chief Clerks in
second son of Lady Mary Coke's elder the Secretary of State's Office,
sister, the Countess of Dalkeith (after-
1766] To Sir Horace Mann 57
a grain to my conviction of your sincerity. Indeed, I hoped
the letter I wrote to you would have reached you as soon
as that idle paragraph in the newspapers, and would pre-
vent your being alarmed. For the future, pray observe
that it is not necessary to be of importance ; an inconsider-
able person as I am, may, you see, have a palsy in the
newspapers, though they have none out of them. Very ill
I was to be sure, and more likely to be quite than half
dead. My recovery has gone on fast : the Bath waters
were serviceable to me, though they have not removed the
pain in my stomach, which comes almost every morning,
but goes as soon as it has left its name. I don't believe it
the gout, and am tired of inquiring what it is, which I do
not perceive tends to its cure. After all the wisdom I have
heard, and the advice that everybody bestows, I have only
learnt that if I will do everything I don't like, and nothing
I do, I may live and be very happy — indeed ! So life is
like virtue, charming for its own sake ! — and yet, though
I believe few of those who affirm this of virtue, I do believe
them about life — they have a fondness for its very dregs ;
and would patch and darn it till it has not one thread left
of the texture for which one wore it at first. What idiots
we are ! we squander youth, and husband old age ; waste
our money, and cherish the tattered bag that held it ! If
there was a day marked on which youth ceases and age
commences, I should call that the day of one's death ; the
first would be the death of pleasure, the other is only the
death of pain ; and is that such a grievance ?
I left Lord Chatham at Bath, in great health and spirits.
He does not seem to dread his enemies, nor respect them.
I trust he will be as much justified in the first, as he is
in the last. I am sure, if the present administration does
not hold, I don't know whither we are to go next ! Lord
Northumberland and Lord Cardigan are made Dukes. The
58 To the Comtesse de Forcalquier [1766
older earls, you may be sure, are much offended ; and
I think the crown has not acted very wisely in opening
a new door to solicitations. It has left itself so little to
bestow, that it is come now to its last fund.
I expect that it will rather be a busy than a warm winter.
The consideration of our Indian affairs will be the principal
object. George Grenville will be very tiresome, and as
teasing as tiresomeness can make him ; but I should think
would not be much supported. His friends the Bedfords
rather look_ from him ; and the dismissed part of the last
administration are inclined to lie still.
We have had grievous disturbances in many parts of
England about corn ; but they are pretty well over — but
for you Tuscans and Komans, you may starve for us. The
papers say that you have got the Hereditary Prince ; if you
love princes, we can spare you two or three more. Adieu !
P.S. Sir James Gray goes to Madrid. The embassy has
been sadly hawked about ; not a peer that would take it.
1149. To THE COMTESSE DE FOECALQUIEE.
Londres, 27 Octobre 1766.
JE ne pouvais pas concevoir, Madame, comment les eaux
de Bath pouvaient me faire du bien si subitement, mais
actuellement le mystere est explique ; vous me dites que
vous avez eu la bonte de faire des voeux pour le retablisse-
ment de ma sante. Je souhaiterais que je 1'eusse connu
plus tot, cela m'aurait epargne un voyage desagr^able ;
neanmoins, Madame, ma reconnaissance est si grande qu'au
lieu de publier 1'obligation que je vous ai, je la tiendrai
LKTTER 1149. — Not in C. ; now first Deffand) in possession of Mr. W. K.
printed from copy (in the handwriting Parker- Jervis.
of Wiart, secretary of Mme. du
1766] To the Comtesse de Forcalquier 59
secrete, autrement les infirmes et les goutteux seraient toua
les jours a votre porte pour vous demander vos bonnes
prieres ; et ce serait une chose indecente de voir a votre
porte tant d'infirmes, au lieu de soupirants ; ce doit etre en
effet un estropie qui vous regarderait comme une madonna,
et vous serez obligee de cacher vos attraits avant qu'on
puisse rendre justice a vos vertus ; on peut dire la meme
chose de votre esprit ; soit que vous parliez parfaitement le
fransais, ou moins parfaitement 1'anglais — le tout sera ap-
prouve, quoique le vrai merite de 1'un ni de 1'autre ne sera
connu que quand on aura le temps de preter son attention
uniquement a ce que vous dites. Vous n'approuverez pas ce
que je dis parce que vous n6gligez votre beaute, et que vous
donnez toute votre attention & cultiver votre coeur et votre
esprit — mais, Madame, je dois dire la verite, et n'ayant
rien oublie de ce que j'ai vu d'admirable en France, est-il
possible que tout ce que j'entends de vous efface tout ce
dont je me souviens ? II n'est pas necessaire, Madame, de
me sommer de tenir ma promesse, je Fai fait sincerement,
et j'aurai un trop grand plaisir a m'y conformer pour ne
pas tenir strictement« ma parole; rien ne m'empechera
d'etre a Paris au mois de Fevrier ; notre ministere meme,
la chose la plus fragile du monde, durera vraisemblablement
au dela de cette periode ; Milord Chatham est en tres bonne
sante a Bath, quoique vous n'ayez pas, Madame, prie pour
lui, et il pourra probablement amener de 1& quelques nou-
veaux amis — au moins le Due de Bedfort et lui y demeu-
rent a deux portes 1'un de 1'autre.
Madame la Duchesse d'Aiguillon a eu la bonte de m'ecrire
au sujet de ma maladie ; puis-je vous prier, Madame, de lui
faire mes tres humbles remerciments et 1'assurer de mes
respects ? J'aurai 1'honneur de la remercier moi-meme For-
dinaire prochain.
Le Marquis de Fitzjames est ici, il parait aimer beaucoup
60 To the Duchesse de Choiseul [1766
Londres et il y est tres goute. Nous vous avons envoy6
une Ambassadrice tres gentille, Madame Kochefort, cepen-
dant j'espere qu'elle n'effacera pas mes amies Madame de
Hertford et la Duchesse de Eichmond.
Madame du Deffand, suivant sa bonte ordinaire, a eu
beaucoup d'e"gard pour M. et Madame Fitzroy qui en sont
charmes et ne cessent de chanter ses louanges ; je ne pen-
serais pas aussi bien d'eux que je fais s'ils agissaient autre-
ment. J'ai le plus grand plaisir du monde d'entendre dire
que votre amitie 1'une pour 1'autre continue, j'espere la
trouver aussi forte que jamais.
Je me flatte que la Duchesse de la Valliere ne m'a pas
tout a fait oubli6, M. de Guerchy m'assure que non, et cela
me cause un plaisir infini. Je souhaite ardemment de
retrouver cette meme compagnie a St. Joseph, et je pro-
mets de ne pas jouer une seule fois a la grande patience,
quand'cette agr6able compagnie sera autour du feu apres
souper.
J'ai 1'honneur d'etre, Madame, votre tres oblige, tres
obeissant, tres de"voue, et tres humble serviteur,
HORACE WALPOLE.
1150. To THE DUCHESSE DE CHOISEUL.
De Londres, ce 27 Oetobre 1766.
IL y a longtemps, Madame, que j'ai du me jeter a vos
pieds en reconnaissance des choses obligeantes qui me ve-
naient de tous cotes sur le compte de vos bontes pour moi.
M. de Guerchy, Madame du Deffand, m'en parlaient con-
tinuellement, mes compatriotes ne cessaient de m'envier,
mais 6taient trop penetres de votre m6rite, Madame, pour
LETTER 1150. — Not in C. ; now first Mme. du Deffand) in possession of
printed from copy (in the hand- Mr. "W E. Parker-Jervis.
writing of Wiart, secretary of
1766] To the Duchesse de Choiseul 61
pouvoir s'en taire, et leur amour propre fit que j'en susse
une partie de la v6rite. Une longue maladie, et encore plus
la crainte de vous importuner, m'imposaieut silence ; mais
la lettre que M. 1'Ambassadeur me rendit hier, autorise,
ordonne m6me, I'effusion de ma sensibilite. La vie,
Madame, a laquelle vous daignez vous int6resser me sera
bien plus precieuse ; un philosophe ne tiendrait centre 1'hon-
neur de vous apporter ses hommages, et pour mourir con-
tent il aurait fallu avoir ecrit quelque chose qui fut digne
de transmettre votre nom' a la post^rite. Mais, Madame,
vous avez mal pris votre temps ; les Horace d'aujourd'hui
ne sont point donneurs d'immortalite, il faut vous fier a vos
vertus.
Ce sera au mois de Fevrier que je me promets 1'honneur
de vous marquer, Madame, en personne la sensibilit6 ex-
treme dont je suis p6netre. Mais il y a encore une grace
que j'oserai vous demander, c'est de m'accorder votre
protection, Madame, aupres de M. le Due de Choiseul.
C'est facheux que je ne saurais attribuer cette ambition
uniquement a 1'envie qui me possede de connaltre ce qui
vous est cher. Mais, Madame, il faut me le pardonner ; les
talents superieurs et le caractere si respectable de M. le
Due de Choiseul m'ont touche le coaur.
Quoique mon peu de m6rite et de consideration m'ont
empeches jusqu'a cette heure de 1'importuner trop de mes
hommages, je suis persuade qu'un homme pour qui vous
daignez avoir de la bonte, ne peut que trouver un accueil
favorable aupres de M. le Due.
J'ai 1'honneur d'etre, Madame la Duchesse, avec le plus
profond respect, votre tres humble, tres obeissant,
et tres devoue serviteur,
HORACE WALPOLE.
62 To the Dowager Duchess d'Aiguillon [1766
1151. To THE DOWAGER DUCHESS D'AIGUILLON.
Strawberry Hill, Nov. 3, 1766.
ONE cannot repine, Madame, at some portion of illness,
when it procures one such marks of goodness as I have
experienced, especially from your Grace; indeed, it grew
a little too serious, and I began to think that I should not
live to pay my debts of gratitude. My Lady Hervey, with
all her kindness to me, and her partiality, her just par-
tiality, to France, is however in the wrong to attribute any
part of my illness to my manner of living at Paris. I came
from thence perfectly well ; and, to say the truth, I ascribe
much more to the damp air of England than to any course
of life. Yet I will not say too much against my own
country, that I may not destroy any little merit I may
have in returning to Paris this winter. I neither deserve
nor expect any sacrifice, but am ready to sacrifice anything
both to your Grace and Madame du Deffand, who have both
shown me so many marks of kindness and protection.
As I interest myself so much in whatever touches your Grace,
I must condole with you, Madam, on the ill state of health of
the Duchess of Fronsac. Though I had the honour of seeing
her but once, I heard enough in her praise to know that she
deserves to be lamented on her own account. I hope, Madam,
you will still have the satisfaction of seeing her recover.
Mr. Hume has, I own, surprised me, by suffering his
squabble with Kousseau to be published 1. He went to Scot-
land determined against it. All his friends gave him the same
advice ; but I see some philosophers can no more keep their
resolution than other philosophers can keep their temper.
If he has been over-persuaded from Paris, I suspect that
LKTTER 1151. — Not in C. ; printed T. V. Lister.
from copy in H. W.'s hand (marked J Hume's French literary friends
'To the Dowager Duchess d'Aiguil- persuaded him to publish an account
Ion') in possession of the late Sir of Rousseau's conduct towards him.
1766] To tlie Dowager Duchess d'Aiguillon 63
the advice was not so much given him for his sake, as
to gratify some spleen against Rousseau, and that his coun-
sellors had a mind to figure in the quarrel ; for men of letters
delight in these silly altercations, though they affect to con-
demn them. It spreads their names, and they are often known
by their disputes, when they cannot make themselves talked
of for their talents. For my own part, I little expected to
see my letter in print, as your Grace tells me it is, for
I have not yet seen the book. I have neither been asked
nor given any consent to my letter being published. I do
not take it ill of Mr. Hume, as I left him at liberty to show
it to whom he pleased,; I am, however, sorry it is printed :
not that I am ashamed of any sentiment in it, especially
since your Grace does me the honour of approving it ; but
I think all literary controversies ridiculous, impertinent,
and contemptible. The world justly despises them, espe-
cially from the arrogance which modern authors assume.
I don't know who the publishers are, nor care ; I only hope
that nobody will think that I have any connection with
them. Nor have I, though I have played the fool in print,
so much of the author, as to think myself of consequence
enough to trouble the world with my letters and quarrels.
Authors by profession may, at least they generally do, give
themselves such airs of dignity ; but they do not become me.
However, Madam, I only laugh at all this, for I am no
philosopher, and therefore am not angry.
I am told it is asserted that I have owned that the
letter to Rousseau was not mine ; I wish it was not, for
then it would have been better. I told your Grace, I be-
lieve, what I told to many more, that some grammatical
faults in it had been corrected for me, for I certainly do not
pretend to write French well ; and it ought to be remarked,
too, that the letter was not written in the name of a French-
man. I must have been vain indeed if I had flattered
64 To the Dowager Duchess d'Aiguillon [i?66
myself that I could write French well enough to be mis-
taken for a Frenchman. The book too, I hear, says that
the real author ought to discover himself. I was the real
author, and never denied it. But is not it amusing,
Madam, to hear an anonymous author calling on somebody,
he does not know whom, to name himself ? And are not
such authors very respectable? I shall not imitate him,
nor ask to hear the publisher's name : I do not believe
I should be much the wiser for knowing it.
I am .told, too, that my letter to Rousseau is censured in
this book. It is very mortifying to me, to be sure, that
when so many persons of taste had been pleased with that
letter, it should be condemned by higher authority ; but it
is not uncommon for men of taste and men of letters to be
of a totally different opinion. Nor am I surprised that
a trifle designed as a jest, and certainly never intended to
be made public, should be anathematized by their holinesses
the philosophers and the enemies of Kousseau. It looked
like candour to blame me, when so real an injury was
meditated against him as the publication of his absurd letter
to Mr. Hume. Philosophy is so tender and so scrupulous !
I beg your Grace's pardon for troubling you so long.
You find I am so much of an author, that I contradict
myself, and think this very foolish controversy important
enough to employ two pages. Indeed it is not ; and if
I were not alone in the country, I should not have thought
it worth two lines. Such a real genius as Eousseau cannot
appear, but he causes all the insignificant scribblers in
Europe to overwhelm the public with their opinions of him
and his writings. But he may comfort himself, his works
will be admired when the compilers of dictionaries and
mercuries will be as much forgotten as your Grace's
Most obedient humble servant,
HORACE WALPOLE.
1766] To Lord Hailes 65
1152. To LOED HAILES.
SIB, Strawberry Hill, Nov. 5, 1766.
On my return from Bath, I found your very kind and agree-
able present of the papers in King Charles's time1, for which
and all your other obliging favours I give you a thousand
thanks.
I was particularly pleased with your just and sensible
preface against those squeamish or bigoted persons who
would bury in oblivion the faults and follies of princes,
and who thence contribute to their guilt; for if princes,
who living are above control, should think that no censure
is to attend them when dead, it would be new encourage-
ment to them to play the fool and act the tyrant. When
they are so kind as to specify their crimes under their own
hands, it would be foppish delicacy indeed to suppress
them. I hope you will proceed, Sir, and with the same
impartiality. It was justice due to Charles to publish the
extravagances of his enemies too. The comparison can
never be fairly made, but when we see the evidence on both
sides. I have done so in the trifles I have published, and
have as much offended some by what I have said of the
Presbyterians at the beginning of my third volume of the
Painters, as I had others by condemnation of King Charles
in my Noble Authors. In the second volume of my Anec-
dotes I praised him where he deserved praise ; for truth is
my sole object, and it is some proof, when one offends both
sides. I am, Sir,
Your most obliged
and obedient Servant,
HOB. WALPOLE.
LBTTEK 1152. — Collated with copy the Hittory of Britain in the Reign of
of original in possession of the His- Charlet I, publithed from the origi-
torical Society of Pennsylvania. nals.
1 Memorials and Letters relating to
WALPOLE. VII
66 To David Hume [i?66
1153. To DAVID HUME.
DEAR SIR, Nov. 6, 1766.
You have, I own, surprised me by suffering your quarrel
with Kousseau to be printed, contrary to your determination
when you left London, and against the advice of all your
best friends here ; I may add, contrary to your own nature,
which has always inclined you to despise literary squabbles,
the jest and scorn of all men of sense. Indeed, I am sorry
you have let yourself be over-persuaded, and so are all that
I have seen who wish you well : I ought rather to use your
own word extorted. You say your Parisian friends extorted
your consent to this publication. I believe so. Your good
sense could not approve what your good heart could not
refuse. You add, that they told you Rousseau Jiad sent letters
of defiance against you all over Europe. Good God ! my dear
Sir, could you pay any regard to such fustian ? All Europe
laughs at being dragged every day into these idle quarrels,
with which Europe only wipes its backside. Your friends
talk as loftily as of a challenge between Charles the Fifth
and Francis the First. What are become of all the contro-
versies since the days of Scaliger and Scioppius, of Billings-
gate memory? Why, they sleep in oblivion, till some
Bayle drags them out of their dust, and takes mighty pains
to ascertain the date of each author's death, which is of no
more consequence to the world than the day of his birth.
Many a country squire quarrels with his neighbour about
game and manors ; yet they never print their wrangles,
though as much abuse passes between them as if they could
quote all the philippics of the learned.
You have acted, as I should have expected if you would
print, with sense, temper, and decency, and, what is still
more uncommon, with your usual modesty. Even to this
day that race ape the dictatorial tone of the commentators
1766] To David Hime 67
at the restoration of learning, when the mob thought that
Greek and Latin could give men the sense which they
wanted in their native languages. But Europe is now
grown a little wiser, and holds these magnificent pretensions
in proper contempt.
What I have said is to explain why I am sorry my letter
makes a part of this controversy* When I sent it to you,
it was for your justification ; and, had it been necessary,
I could have added as much more, having been witness to
your anxious and boundless friendship for Kousseau. I told
you, you might make what use of it you pleased. Indeed,
at that time I did not — could not think of its being printed,
you seeming so averse to any publication on that head.
However, I by no means take it ill, nor regret my part, if it
tends to vindicate your honour.
I must confess that I am more concerned that you have
suffered my letter to be curtailed ; nor should I have con-
sented to that if you had asked me. I guessed that your
friends consulted your interest less than their own inclina-
tion to expose Eousseau ; and I think their omission of
what I said on that subject proves I was not mistaken in
my guess. My letter hinted, too, my contempt of learned
men and their miserable conduct. Since I was to appear in
print, I should not have been sorry that that opinion should
have appeared at the same time. In truth, there is nothing
I hold so cheap as the generality of learned men ; and I
have often thought that young men ought to be made
scholars, lest they should grow to reverence learned block-
heads, and think there is any merit in having read more
foolish books than other folks ; which, as there are a
thousand nonsensical books for one good one, must be
the case of any man who has read much more than other
people.
Your friend D'Alembert, who, I suppose, has read a vast
r 2
68 To David Hume [i?66
deal, is, it seems, offended with my letter to Kousseau. He
is certainly as much at liberty to blame it, as I was to write
it. Unfortunately, he does not convince me; nor can I
think but that if Eousseau may attack all governments and
all religions, I might attack him : especially on his affecta-
tion and affected misfortunes ; which you and your editors
have proved are affected. D'Alembert might be offended at
Kousseau's ascribing my letter to him ; and he is in the
right. I am a very indifferent author ; and there is nothing
so vexatious to an indifferent author as to be confounded
with another of the same class. I should be sorry to have
his eloges and translations of scraps of Tacitus laid to me.
However, I can forgive him anything, provided he never
translates me. Adieu I my dear Sir. I am apt to laugh,
you know, and therefore you will excuse me, though I do
not treat your friends up to the pomp of their claims.
They may treat me as freely: I shall not laugh the less,
and I promise you I will never enter into a controversy
with them.
Yours most sincerely,
HOB. WALPOLE.
1154. To DAVID HUME.
Arlington Street, Nov. 11, 1766.
INDEED, dear Sir, it was not necessary to make me any
apology. D'Alembert is certainly at liberty to say what he
pleases of my letter; and undoubtedly you cannot think
that it signifies a straw to me what he says. But how can
you be surprised at bis printing a thing that he sent you so
long ago ? All my surprise consists in your suffering him
to curtail my letter to you, when you might be sure he
would print his own at length. I am glad, however, that
he has mangled mine : it not only shows his equity, but is
1766] To David Hume 69
the strongest presumption that he was conscious I guessed
right, when I supposed he urged you to publish, from his
own private pique to Rousseau.
What you surmise of his censuring my letter because
I am a friend of Madame du Deffand *, is astonishing
indeed, and not to be credited, unless you had suggested it.
Having never thought him anything like a superior genius,
as you term him, I concluded his vanity was hurt by
Rousseau's ascribing my letter to him ; but, to carry resent-
ment to a woman, to an old and blind woman, so far as
to hate a friend of hers, qui ne lui avoit point fait de mal,
is strangely weak and lamentable. I thought he was a
philosopher, and that philosophers were virtuous, upright
men, who loved wisdom, and were above the little passions
and foibles of humanity. I thought they assumed that
proud title as an earnest to the world, that they intended to
be something more than mortal ; that they engaged them-
selves to be patterns of excellence, and would utter no
opinion, would pronounce no decision, but what they
believed the quintessence of truth ; that they always acted
without prejudice and respect of persons. Indeed, we know
that the ancient philosophers were a ridiculous composition
of arrogance, disputation, and contradictions ; that some of
them acted against all ideas of decency ; that others affected
to doubt of their own senses; that some, for venting un-
intelligible nonsense, pretended to think themselves superior
to kings ; that they gave themselves airs of accounting for
all that we do and do not see — and yet, that no two of them
agreed in a single hypothesis ; that one thought fire, another
water, the origin of all things ; and that some were even so
LETTER 11 54.— 'Madame du Deffand of Madame da Deffand. Mile, de
and D'Alembert had quarrelled. The 1'Espinasse was dismissed by the
cause of the breach was D'Alembert's Marquise in 1763, and thenceforth
preference for the society of Mile. presided over a rival salon.
de 1'Espinasse, a former companion
70 To David Hume [1766
absurd and impious, as to displace God, and enthrone matter
in His place. I do not mean to disparage such wise men,
for we are really obliged to them: they anticipated and
helped us off with an exceeding deal of nonsense, through
which we might possibly have passed, if they had not pre-
vented us. But, when in this enlightened age, as it is
called, I saw the term philosophers revived, I concluded the
jargon would be omitted, and that we should be blessed
with only the cream of sapience ; and one had more reason
still to expect this from any superior genius. But, alas ! my
dear Sir, what a tumble is here! Your D'Alembert is
a mere mortal oracle. Who but would have laughed, if,
when the buffoon Aristophanes ridiculed Socrates, Plato
had condemned the former, not for making sport with a
great man in distress, but because Plato hated some blind
old woman with whom Aristophanes was acquainted !
D'Alembert's conduct is the more unjust, as I never
heard Madame du Deffand talk of him above three times in
the seven months that I passed at Paris ; and never, though
she does not love him, with any reflection to his prejudice.
I remember, the first time I ever heard her mention his
name, I said I have been told he was a good mimic, but
could not think him a good writer. (Crawford remembers
this, and it is a proof that I always thought of D'Alembert
as I do now.) She took it up with warmth, defended his
parts, and said he was extremely amusing. For her quarrel
with him, I never troubled my head about it one way or
other ; which you will not wonder at. You know in Eng-
land we read their works, but seldom or never take any
notice of authors. We think them sufficiently paid if their
books sell, and of course leave them to their colleges and
obscurity, by which means we are not troubled with their
vanity and impertinence. In France, they spoil us; but
that was no business of mine. I, who am an author, must
1766] To David Hume 71
own this conduct very sensible ; for in truth we are a most
useless tribe.
That D'Alembert should have omitted passages in which
you was so good as to mention me with approbation, agrees
with his peevishness, not with his philosophy. However,
for God's sake do not reinstate the passages. I do not love
compliments, and will never give my consent to receive
any. I have no doubt of your kind intentions to me, but
beg they may rest there. I am much more diverted with
the philosopher D'Alembert's underhand dealings, than I
should have been pleased with panegyric even from you.
Allow me to make one more remark, and I have done
with this trifling business for ever. Your moral friend
pronounces me ill-natured for laughing at an unhappy man
who had never offended me. Kousseau certainly never did
offend me. I believed, from many symptoms in his writings,
and from what I heard of him, that his love of singularity
made him choose to invite misfortunes, and that he hung
out many more than he felt. I, who affect no philosophy,
nor pretend to more virtue than my neighbours, thought
this ridiculous in a man who is really a superior genius, and
joked upon it in a few lines never certainly intended to
appear in print. The sage D'Alembert reprehends this —
and where? In a book published to expose Kousseau, and
which confirms by serious proofs what I had. hinted at in
jest. What! does a philosopher condemn me, and in the
very same breath, only with ten times more ill-nature, act
exactly as I had done? Oh, but you will say, Eousseau
had offended D'Alembert by ascribing the King of Prussia's
letter to him. Worse and worse : if Kousseau is unhappy,
a philosopher should have pardoned. Revenge is so un-
becoming the rex regum, the man who is praecipue sanus —
nisi cum pituita molesta est. If Rousseau's misfortunes are
affected, what becomes of my ill-nature? In short, my
72 To Sir Horace Mann
dear Sir, to conclude as D'Alembert concludes his book,
I do believe in the virtue of Mr. Hume, but not much in
that of philosophers. Adieu !
Yours ever,
H. WALPOLE.
P.S. It occurs to me, that you may be apprehensive of
my being indiscreet enough to let D'Alembert learn your
suspicions of him on Madame du Deffand's account! but
you may be perfectly easy on that head. Though I like
such an advantage over him, and should be glad he saw
this letter, and knew how little formidable I think him,
I shall certainly not make an ill use of a private letter, and
had much rather waive any triumph, than give a friend
a moment's pain. I love to laugh at an impertinent savant,
but respect learning when joined to such goodness as yours,
and never confound ostentation and modesty.
I wrote to you last Thursday; and, by Lady Hertford's
advice, directed my letter to Nine Wells 2 : I hope you will
receive it,
1155. To SIR HOEACE MANN.
Arlington Street, Nov. 13, 1766.
You have surpassed yourself, and I really give you
a million of thanks. Your attentions to the Marquis de
Boufflers1 have been re-echoed to me from Paris. His
mother deserved it so little of me, that I am charmed to
have returned it in so civil a style. You could scarce have
pleased me more, if it had been my best friend.
The Parliament met the day before yesterday, and Lord
2 In Berwickshire ; the birthplace quis, de Boufflers-Rouvel, recom-
and occasional residence of Hume. mended to Mann in a previous
LETTER 1155. — l Comte, not Mar- letter.
1766] To Sir Horace Mann 73
Chatham's good genius is still constant to him. His two
brothers-in-law are left in the suds. The Duke of Bedford
and his court have been trafficking to come in, and though
the bargain is not struck, they have deserted Grenville.
The Duke himself spoke with much temper, and not one of
his dependants showed themselves in the House of Commons.
Should they even return to opposition, it will but double
their disgrace, having so openly advertised themselves on
sale. Lord Temple and Grenville were warm, though not
personal, and you may be sure, not concise. They could
not raise a division in either House. The elder had been
as little successful the day before. He went to the Lord
Mayor's feast, and dragged along with him that wise moppet,
Lord Lyttelton : but they could not raise a shout for them-
selves, or a hiss for anybody else, but one who wishes no
better to Lord Chatham than they do. The Master of the
Kolls 2 was mistaken for Lord Mansfield, and insulted. This
latter was reduced on Tuesday to make a speech against pre-
rogative— yes, yes ; and then was so cowed by Lord Camden,
and the very sight of Lord Chatham, that he explained away
half he had said. The Duke of Newcastle, Lord Kocking-
ham, and the late ministers declare against opposition:
Lord Temple goes out of town on Sunday, and though there
will be long days, it will only be from George Grenville's
long speeches. There will be very few even of those before
Christmas. I have seldom sent you a better account.
Shall I send you an Italian story ? Why, yes ; one don't
always know what is doing at next door. The Abb6 Gius-
tiniani, a noble Genoese, wrote last year a panegyric in
verse on the Empress-Queen. She paid him with a gold
snuff-box set with diamonds, and a patent of Theologian.
Finding the trade so lucrative, he wrote another on the
King of Prussia, who sent him a horn box, telling him that
2 Sir Thomas Sewell.
74: To Sir Horace Mann [i766
he knew his vow of poverty would not let him touch gold ;
and that, having no theologians, he had sent him a patent
to be captain of horse in those very troops that he had com-
mended so much in his verses ! I am persuaded that the
saving of the gold and the brilliants was not the part which
pleased his Majesty the least.
The Duke of Portland is married to Lady Dorothy Caven-
dish 8, and Lord Mountstuart to a rich ugly Miss Windsor *.
No other news, but the publication of the quarrel between
Mr. Hume and Eousseau, of which few think here, though
a great object at Paris, and of which I hope you have never
heard. I make a figure in it, much against my will, having
great contempt for literary squabbles; but they are meat
and drink to those fools the litterati. Adieu !
1156. To SIB HOEACE MANN.
f
Arlington Street, Dec. 8, 1766.
WE have been in so strange and uncertain a situation
lately that though I am always very punctual in giving you
warning of any revolution, I could not till this very post
say a word that would have tended to anything but to
puzzle and alarm you. I now think the cloud pretty well
dispersed, and am rather tranquil about what I feared the
most. The internal agitations of factions are less easily
described than public events, or even than parliamentary
occurrences ; however, I will relate to you as briefly as
I can, what has or had like to have happened.
About three weeks ago Lord Chatham suddenly removed
Lord Edgcumbe from being Treasurer of the Household, to
8 Only daughter of fourth Duke of first Viscount Windsor ; m. (Nov.
of Devonshire. 1, 1766) John Stuart, Lord Mount-
4 Hon. Charlotte Jane Windsor stuart, eldest son of third Earl of
'd. 1800), eldest daughter and co-heir Bute.
1766] To Sir Horace Mann 75
make room for Mr. Shelley l (no very commendable choice),
and without the knowledge of Mr. Conway, who was hurt
both at the neglect of himself and the disgrace of one of his
friends. The rest of the late administration, who remained,
and still more they who had been set aside, were highly
offended. Mr. Conway tried every method of satisfying
Lord Edgcumbe, but Lord Chatham was inflexible, especially
as the party had threatened to resign. While Mr. Conway
was labouring a reconciliation, indeed with little prospect of
accomplishing it, his friends flew out and left him, without
any previous notice, on the opening of the great question on
the East Indies 2. This was very unkind behaviour to him,
and was followed by the resignations of the Duke of Port-
land 3, Lord Besborough *, Lord Scarborough 5, Lord Monson *,
Sir Charles Saunders 7, and one or two more. Not content
with this, Lord Rockingham and the Cavendishes have
never ceased endeavouring to persuade Mr. Conway to
resign. Lord Chatham paid him the greatest compliments,
and declared how difficult it would be for him to go on
LETTER 1156. — l Afterwards Sir he induce the Parliament to think
John Shelley. Walpole. the Company had exceeded the
2 Lord Chatham had a scheme for powers of their charter, the whole
an inquiry into the East India Com- property of their territorial acqni-
pany's affairs in Bengal. 'With sitions might be deemed forfeited
indignation, he beheld three Indian for the crown ; this would be a bribe
provinces, an empire themselves, in with which few ministers could pur-
the hands of a company of merchants chase the smiles of their master. . . .
who, authorized by their charter to On the 25th [of November] the plan
traffic on the coast, had usurped so was first intimated to the House by
mighty a portion of his dominions Lord Chatham's confidant, Alderman
from the Prince who permitted their Beckford, who moved to take into
commerce with his subjects,. ..Above consideration the state of the East
any view of sharing the plunder India Company's affairs.' (Memoirs
himself, he saw a prey that tempted of George III, ed. 1894, voL ii. pp.
him to make it more his country's. 276, 277, 27y.)
By threats to intimidate the Com- 3 Lord Chamberlain,
pany, and incline them to offer 4 Joint Postmaster-General
largely towards the necessities of 6 Cofferer of the Household.
Government, was the least part of 6 Chief Justice in Eyre south of
his idea. Such a tribute would stand Trent.
in the place of new taxes, or relieve T First Lord of the Admiralty,
the debts on the Civil List ; could
76 To Sir Horace Mann [i76G
without him. The Duke of Grafton was alarmed to the
utmost, from his affection for him, and Lord Hertford and I,
seeing the factious and treacherous behaviour of his friends,
and thinking it full as proper that he should govern them
as they him, have done everything in our power to stop
him ; and I now at last flatter myself that he will not quit.
Well ; still the places were vacant, and it was necessary
to get recruits : a negotiation, begun at Bath, was renewed
with the Duke of Bedford and his friends ; and Lord Gower,
the most impatient of that squadron to return to court, was
dispatched by Lord Chatham to Woburn, and returned the
very next day, with full compliance on the Duke's part.
Mr. Grenville in the meantime was not idle, but employed
others of that faction to traverse it. The Duke would listen
to no remonstrances, but arrived himself in two days, very
moderate in his intended proposals. To his great surprise
he learned that two, if not three, of the vacant posts had
been disposed of in that short interval ; Sir Edward Hawke
being made First Lord ot the Admiralty, and Sir Piercy
Brett8 another commissioner. The Grenvillians blew up
this disappointment, and instead of modest demands, the
Duke went to Lord Chatham with a list of friends, large
enough to fill half the places under the Government. This
was as flatly refused ; the Duke went away in wrath — and
is to be brought up again this week to vote against the
court. The consequence of all this is, the junction of Lord
Chatham and Lord Bute, and the full support of the crown
being given to the former. This has already appeared with
much eclat, for on an ill-advised division on Friday last,
Grenville and the Bedfords were but forty-eight, the court
one hundred and sixty-six — a great victory in such a dubious
moment, and which I hope will fix the administration. The
8 Bear- Admiral Sir Piercy Brett, one of Anson's companions on his voyage
round the world.
1766] To George Montagu 77
minority may be increased possibly to-morrow by twenty
more on the East Indian affair, if the Cavendishes and
Yorkes carry to it all their little strength.
The Duke of Ancaster is Master of the Horse, and Lord
Delaware succeeds him in the same post to the Queen ;
Lord Hilsborough and Lord Despencer are joint Postmasters,
Nugent First Lord of Trade, and Stanley Cofferer.
This is enough to give you some idea of the late hurricane.
I have just received yours of November 18th, with an account
of your disorder, and the arrival of Lady Holland. I wish
your letter had been dated a few days later, that I might be
sure you had not suffered by your rash attentions to her.
You would like her much if you knew her more, as I hope
you will at her return. It will be extraordinary indeed if
Lord Holland recovers enough to return with her.
Our burlettas will make the fortunes of the managers.
The Buona Figliuola 9, which has more charming music than
ever I heard in a single piece, is crowded every time ; the
King and Queen scarce ever miss it. Lovattini is incom-
parable, both for voice and action. But the serious opera,
which is alternate, suffers for it. Guarducci's voice is
universally admired, but he is lifeless, and the rest of the
company not to be borne. Adieu ! and let me hear you are
quite well.
1157. To GEOKGE MONTAGU.
Strawberry Hill, Dec. 12, 1766.
PKAY what are you doing?
Or reading or feeding?
Or drinking or thinking?
Or praying or playing?
Or walking or talking?
Or riding about to your neighbours?
' Cecchina, ossia la buona Figliuola, an axtremely popular buffo opera by
Niccola Piccini (1728-1800).
78 To George Montagu [1766
I am sure you are not writing, for I have not had a word
from you this century — nay, nor you from me. In truth,
we have had a busy month, and many grumbles of a state-
quake ; but the session has however ended very triumphantly
for the great Earl1 — I mean, we are adjourned for the holi-
days for above a month, after two divisions of 166 to 48, and
140 to 56. The Earl chaffered for the Bedfords, and who
so willing as they? However, the bargain went off, and
they are forced to return to George Grenville. Lord Kocking-
ham and the Cavendishes have made a jaunt to the same
quarter, but could carry only eight along with them, which
swelled that little minority to 56. I trust and I hope it
will not rise higher in haste. Your cousin2, I hear, has
been two hours with the Earl, but to what purpose I know
not. Nugent is made Lord Clare, I think to no purpose
at all.
I came hither to-day for two or three days, and to empty
my head. The weather is very warm and comfortable.
When do you move your tents southward ?
I left little like news in town, except politics. That
pretty young woman, Lady Fortrose, Lady Harrington's
eldest daughter, is at the point of death, killed, like Lady
Coventry and others, by white lead, of which nothing could
break her. Lord Beauchamp is going to marry the second
Miss Windsor 3. It is odd that those two ugly girls, though
such great fortunes, should get the two best figures in
England, him and Lord Mountstuart.
The Duke of York is erecting a theatre at his own palace,
and is to play Lothario in the Fair Penitent himself.
Apropos, have you seen that delightful paper composed out
LETTER 1157. — 1 The Earl of Chat- heir of first Viscount Windsor; m.
ham. Francis Seymour, Viscount Beau-
2 The Earl of Halifax. champ, eldest son of first Earl of
8 Hon. Alicia Elizabeth Windsor Hertford,
(d. 1772), second daughter and co-
1766] To George Montagu 79
of scrape in the newspapers4? I laughed till I cried, and
literally burst out so loud, that I thought Favre, who was
waiting in the next room, would conclude I was in a fit —
I mean the paper that says,
This day his Majesty will go in great state
To fifteen notorious common Prostitutes, &c., &c.
It is the newest piece of humour, except the Bath Guide,
that I have seen of many years. Adieu ! Do let me hear
from you soon. How does brother John ?
Yours ever,
H. W.
1158. To GrEOEGE MONTAGU.
Arlington Street, Dec. 16, 1766.
I WEOTE to you last post on the very day I ought to have
received yours, but being at Strawberry, did not get it in
time. Thank you for your offer of a doe ; you know when
I dine at home here it is quite alone, and venison frightens
my little meal ; yet, as half of it is designed for dimidium
animae meae Mrs. Clive (a pretty round half), I must not
refuse it. Venison will make such a figure at her Christmas
gambols ! only let me know when and how I am to receive
it, that she may prepare the rest of her banquet ; I will take
care to convey it to her.
I don't like your wintering so late in the country. Adieu !
Yours ever,
H. W.
* A new way of reading Newt- Cursor' was Caleb Whitefoord (d.
papers, by Papyrius Cursor. See 1810), mentioned in Goldsmith's
Gent. Mag. 1766, p. 687 'Papyrius Betaliation.
80 To George Montagu [i?67
1159. To GEORGE MONTAGU.
Tuesday, Jan. 13 [1767].
I AM going to eat some of your venison, and dare to say
it is very good — I am sure you are ; and thank you for it.
Catherine *, I do not doubt, is up to the elbows in currant
jelly and gratitude.
I have lost poor Louis', who died last week at Straw-
berry. He had no fault but what has fallen upon himself,
poor soul ! drinking ; his honesty and good nature were
complete ; and I am heartily concerned for him, which
I shall seldom say so sincerely.
There has been printed a dull complimentary letter to
me on the quarrel of Hume and Rousseau. In one of the
Reviews they are so obliging as to say I wrote it myself — it is
so dull that I should think they wrote it themselves ; a kind
of abuse I should dislike much more than their criticism.
Are you not frozen, perished ? How do you keep yourself
alive on your mountain? I scarce stir from my fireside.
I have scarce been at Strawberry for a day this whole
Christmas, and there is less appearance of a thaw to-day
than ever. There has been dreadful havoc at Margate and
Aldborough, and along the coast. At Calais the sea rose
above sixty feet perpendicular, which makes people conclude
there has been an earthquake somewhere or other. I shall
not think of my journey to France yet ; I suffered too much
with the cold last year at Paris, where they have not the
least idea of comfortable, but sup in stone halls, with all
the doors open.
Adieu ! I must go dress for the Drawing Room of the
Princess of Wales. Yours ever,
H. W.
LETTER 1159. — l Catherine Clive.
2 One of Horace Walpole's servants.
1767] To Sir Horace Mann 81
1160. To SIE HOEACE MANN.
Arlington Street, Jan. 21, 1767.
You will think it long, my dear Sir, since I wrote to you ;
which makes me write now, though I have had, nor have,
anything new to tell you. The Parliament has been
adjourned for a month, and is but just reassembled. The
affair of the East India Company, which promised trouble,
has taken a favourable turn, and they have agreed to treat
with the ministry, which will prevent the bargain from
being haggled in Parliament, if the parties can come to
any agreement. Lord Temple and George Grenville have
laboured to their utmost to make the usurpation of three
Indian provinces, or rather kingdoms, pass for private
property ; and private property is always willing to profit
of the most favourable construction, and to be wonderfully
fond of liberty. 'Tis all the obligation a free country has
to the rich. Lord Chatham is laid up with the gout at
Bath ; but the opposition is so insignificant, that we can
afford to wait for him.
We have a most dreadful winter, the coldest I ever
remember, for you know I was with you in 1740 and 1741.
Last year was bitter, but I flattered myself that the season
was worse at Paris than at London. It lasted four months :
I hope this, which is scarce a month old, will be of much
shorter duration.
I am labouring to get you two black dogs *, but find it the
most difficult thing in the world, as you require them very
small. The very little ones are generally but one of a litter.
Lord Dacre has a bitch now with puppy, and has promised
me one. I must be sure of the parents, or they might seem
pretty and turn out large and ugly.
LETTER 1160. — l Mann wished to of Tuscany by presenting her with
make his court to the Grand Duchess two King Charles' spaniels.
WALPOLE. VII
82 To Sir Horace Mann [i767
I can say little or nothing to your riband. I meddle
with nothing ; and without repeating what I have said in
my former letters, I can only remind you that I have cause
not to choose to have obligations. You are the single person
for whom I have forced myself to ask a favour. I have
peremptorily refused every soul besides, how nearly soever
they were related to me. I must ask if I would obtain, for
assure yourself, no favours will be thrown in my way ; and
when I have passed my life in studying the service of others,
and have heaped endless favours, you may believe I have
too much pride to desire a return of some of them. I can
say no more in a letter, but beg you to excuse me from
interfering about your riband. I did obtain what was
essential to you — but a mind that has any generosity cannot
be claiming debts : I had rather forget what is due to me.
Lord Beauchamp is going to be married to Miss Windsor,
a great heiress, and sister-in-law to Lord Mount Stewart.
Lord Hertford is already remarkably in favour with the
King. Lord Beauchamp always mentions you, and but
t'other night mentioned you with the greatest kindness.
Write to him, and if he speaks of it, I will encourage him
— but I have done with those things myself, and having too
much experience to believe it possible to make a real friend,
I should scorn to ask favours of those, for whose interests
I most certainly shall never give myself a moment's trouble
more. I can learn to feel no friendship, but I cannot learn
to profess one where I have it not. Ostentation is contrary
to my character, and repugnant to the dignity of one's own
mind. 'Tis a falsehood to pretend to have interest, when
one has none. I therefore tell you plainly the truth.
I have all my life missed the fairest opportunities; and
am glad I have, because I should blush if I had ever owed
anything to solicitation. Ambition bustles; but I never
had any. Pride, which I have, likes homage ; but is not
176?] To Sir Horace Mann 83
mean enough to canvas for it, because, whatever it likes, it
cannot be really content with anything but its own
approbation. I feel that to the most comfortable degree ;
and I am sure, my dear Sir, you will not wish to deprive
me of the satisfaction I feel when I say to myself, ' I have
shunned every advantage of fortune when it would have
laid me under obligation to any man who did not deserve
my esteem.' Adieu I
23rd.
We had plenty of comfortable rain yesterday, and the
weather is much softened.
1161. To SIR HOEACE MANN.
Arlington Street, Feb. 13, 1767.
MR WORSELEY'S servant has brought me the parcel of
letters safe, and yesterday I received yours of the 27th of last
January, with an account of your distresses on the etiquette
between your plaything court and our travelling boys.
In truth, both sides are childish, and yet I am disposed
to favour the latter, and so I think should you too. What
is so insignificant as a Duke of Tuscany? And does his
being a slip of Austrian pride make him a jot more
important? Three years ago we were confessedly the
masters of Europe ; and I trust we shall not waive our
pretensions without a struggle. An English member of
Parliament is part of the legislature, and what is a Tuscan
nobleman part of? Has not that haughty Empress-Queen
been our pensioner? An English merchant may beget
gentlemen, if he pleases ; a poor slave with a long pedigree
begets nothing but more parchment. A Montmorency's
genealogy only proves how long the family has been
vassals. In short, I approve of bearding all other courts,
and particularly an Austrian one, for their ingratitude.
o 2
84 To Sir Horace Mann [i?G7
I am sure Lord Chatham's spirit will approve your showing
any : we shall bow nowhere while he is minister. He is
still at Bath, but everything goes on smoothly. We have
two oppositions ; that of the late ministry, and that of its
predecessors ; both very contemptible, and so they would
still be were they united ; however, while they keep
separated, 'tis Orenville's only that is odious.
We have no news, but the deaths of some young people
of rank. The house of Norfolk has lost its heir1 of that
line; the next branch is Howard of Greystock*, who is
half mad ; yet thither the title must go. It is believed in
our coffee-houses that this last young man was poisoned by
the Jesuits, who apprehended his turning Protestant. The
young Lady Suffolk is dead too (Lord Trevor's daughter),
and Lord Harrington's eldest daughter (Lady Fortrose), who
has killed herself by wearing white. She is not the first
instance ; and yet that madness continues.
Nothing is so much in fashion as the liuona Figliuola.
The second part was tried, but did not succeed half so well,
and they have resumed the first part, which is crowded even
behind the scenes. The serious operas are seldom played ;
for though Guarducci is so excellent, the rest of the per-
formers are abominable, and he cannot draw a quarter of an
audience alone.
I am thinking of another little journey to Paris, — not for
pleasure; a little for health, as the air there and motion
agree with me, and still more to see my charming blind old
woman, Madame du Deffand. As I am got so much out of
the world here, you will not suspect me of hunting diversions
there. I am not ill, but not quite well. They tell me my
LITTM 1161. — » Edward (1744- Duke of Norfolk.
1767), son of Philip Ho ward, fifth son 'Charles Howard ot Greystock
of Lord Thomas Howard, second succeeded as tonth Duke of Norfolk
son of sixth Duke of Norfolk. Edward in 1777
Howard was nephew of the ninth
1767] To Sir Horace Mann 85
disorder is only nervous ; and I believe so, unless, which is
more probable, it is growing towards old. One's spirits,
even mine, may diminish, without being positively ill.
I take it as it comes, and am very indifferent about it.
I have seen and remember so much, that my life already
appears very long ; nay, the first part seems to have been
a former life, so entirely are the persons worn out who were
on the stage when I came into the world. You must
consider, as my father was minister then, I almost came
into the world at three years old. I was ten when I was
presented to George I, two nights before he left England
the last time. This makes me appear very old to myself,
and Methuselah to young persons, if I happen to mention it
before them. If I see another reign, which is but too
probable, what shall I seem then ? I will tell you an odd
circumstance. Near ten years ago, I had already seen six
generations in one family, that of Waldegrave. I have
often seen, and once been in a room with Mrs. Godfrey3,
mistress of James II. It is true she doted ; then came her
daughter the old Lady Waldegrave4, her son the ambassador6;
his daughter, Lady Harriot Beard'; her daughter, the
present Lady Powis 7 ; and she has children who may be
married in five or six years ; and yet I shall not be very
old if I see two generations more! but if I do I shall be
superannuated, for I think I talk already like an old nurse.
Adieu !
• Arabella Churchill, sister of • Wife to Lord Edward Herbert,
John, first Duke of Marlborough. second son of the Marquis of Powis.
Walpole. Walpole. — She married secondly
4 Henrietta Fitz-James, daughter John Beard, the singer,
of King James IL Walpole. 7 Barbara Antonia, married to her
8 James, first Earl of Waldegrave. cousin the first Earl of Powis. Wal-
Walpole, pole.
86 To Sir Horace Mann [i?67
1162. To JOHN HUTCHINS(?).
QIB) Arlington Street, Feb. 17, 1767.
In the autumn I turned over Vertue's MSS. to see if
I could find anything satisfactory for you relating to
Sir James Thornhill, but indeed I could not. There is
nothing, but some few notices relating to his works, the
principal of which were the cupola of St. Paul's and his
paintings at Greenwich. I believe it would be your best
way to apply to his daughter, Mrs. Hogarth, widow of the
famous painter. I believe she still lives at the Golden
Head in Leicester Fields. To be sure she would be glad
to contribute to the illustration of her father's memory.
I am sorry it is not in my power, Sir, to give you better
information, and am,
Sir,
Your humble Servant,
HOR. WALPOLE.
P.S. I shall immediately send and subscribe, Sir, to
your work.
1163. To SIE HORACE MANN.
Monday morning, March 2nd, 1767.
You will not be much surprised, nor totally dismayed,
I hope, to hear that the ministry have been beaten in the
House of Commons. At least you will not be more
astonished than they were who gained the victory. They
could scarce believe it. They have once this winter divided
but sixteen ; and now, slap ! were two hundred and six.
LETTER 1162. — Not in 0. ; now first but probably written to John Hut-
printed from original in possession chins (1698-1778), author of the
of Messrs. H. Sotheran & Co., 140 History and Antiquities of the County
Strand, W.C. No name of addressee, of Dorset.
1767] To Sir Horace Mann 87
I will tell you the event, the certain consequences, and the
causes. The probable consequences are very doubtful.
Last Friday George Grenville, who during his own
administration had declared he thought he should be able
to take off one shilling in four of the land tax in the year
1 767, was at least as glad to spread that doctrine now as he
could have been if minister still. It is a captivating bait
to the country gentlemen, and the approach of a general
election made it important for them to vote for it. They
were brought to town : the late outed ministers, forgetting
their actions and declarations against Grenville in their
new hatred to Lord Chatham, joined in the cry. In short,
when we came to a division, we were but 188; they 206.
There was still a possibility of reversing this vote to-day, as
it had only passed through the committee ; but as the court
does not doubt its own strength on other questions, it was
not thought prudent to rivet the new alliance together, nor
venture a second defeat on the most popular question they
can have.
The certain consequences are, the loss of the tax, five
hundred thousand pounds, the diminution of credit, and
a year lost of lowering the debt ; that is, in more essential
words, a year of means lost in another war.
The causes of this event were the absence of Lord Chatham,
who has lingered at Bath and Marlborough till so ill, that
he could not come to town. No business was done : the
other ministers were uneasy or inactive. The opposition
seized the moment, and collected all their strength. Still
this would not have signified ; but the friends of the court
were so inapprehensive of any defeat, that many of them
privately and separately consulted their own popularity, and
were actually engaged in the division, before they had any
notion of being in the minority.
For the probable consequences, you will immediately con-
88 To Sir Horace Mann [i?67
elude, as the opposition does, or pretends to do, that there
must be a change of the administration. It is not common
for a beaten ministry to stand its ground ; and this is almost
the only instance of the crown losing a tax. Mr. Pelham
indeed lost the sugar tax, but it was in his outset, and
when he had not favour, but was betrayed by his competitor
Lord Granville ; yet Mr. Pelham stood the blow, and so may
Lord Chatham if he pleases. The King is resolved to support
him: Lord Bute falls into the hands of his most detested
enemy Grenville, if the latter triumphs ; and the late
ministers cannot carry Grenville on their backs to St. James's,
without contradicting all their actions and professions, and
losing all character. Oh, but you will cry, 'They are
dipped already ; they have shaken the credit of their
country, to gratify their revenge.' It is very true ; but
before they force St. James's, there must be some partition
of the spoils agreed on. Lord Rockingham is as ambitious
as Grenville himself, and has the same object in view, and
is totally unfit for it ; and, in truth, that party have never
shone by their abilities. Grenville could allow them
nothing but what would disgrace them. Another obstacle
is, that the City is much displeased with the loss of the
tax; and the City looks a little farther, and knows a little
better than a parcel of Tory squires, what is necessary to
government.
Still I advise you to be prepared. This country is so
split into factions, and in so fluctuating a state ; we have
seen so many sudden revolutions in six years, that we must
not yet look on any establishment as very permanent. The
court will certainly try anything but absolute force, to keep
out Grenville, who has offended and wounded Lord Bute
past hope of reconciliation ; and should they meet again by
necessity, neither can, in the nature of things, trust the
other ; for when no obligations could bind Grenville, would
1767] To Sir Horace Mann 89
his promises, when victorious, bind him? Lord Chatham
lay at Beading last night, and will be here to-day ; if he
exerts his ancient spirit, and approaches nearer to Lord Bute,
I have no doubt of his still being triumphant. He must see
that, with all their propensity to servility, the House of
Commons must be managed ; if left to themselves they will
exert their freedom, though it be only to choose a new
master.
The time calls for prudence. Answer me very cautiously.
If a change should happen, I shall be cautious too, though
I think there is no great danger of our being saddled with
Grenville yet. There are still resources before it comes to
him ; nor could he keep his seat without violent convulsions.
In truth, in truth, the prospect is very gloomy ! So
many errors have been committed of late years, so many
have let the game slip out of their hands ; there is so much
faction, and so little character or abilities in the country,
that if our old and steady ally, Fortune, does not befriend
us, I don't know where we shall be. — Oh, yes, but I do !
Adieu ! I have not time to say a word more ; but you
know on these occasions I never neglect you. You shall
hear again immediately.
1164. To SIB HOKACE MANN.
Arlington Street, Sunday, March 8, 1767.
I HAVE alarmed you, and now will give you a little repose.
The victory of the opposition has had no consequences yet ;
and as they have given the court time to look about, the
latter can recover its ground faster than they can gain more.
I am sure we found it so four years ago. We did not indeed
win a battle, but were so near it, that had we pursued our
blow the scale had been turned. The present enemies
are composed of two very distinct bodies, and they have
90 To Sir Horace Mann [1767
already shown how little they were connected. Treachery
itself has been of use to us.
Charles Townshend, of whom, when he was taken in,
I said that he could never do any hurt but to his friends,
has acted as usual. The absence of Lord Chatham at Bath,
and still more his having quitted the House of Commons,
has given this Proteus courage. He had been hurt by the
contemptuous manner in which Lord Chatham had forced
him to be Chancellor of the Exchequer. Hurt, too, he was,
at the preference given to Mr. Conway. His brother, Lord
Townshend, of whom he is afraid, for he fears everything
but shame, and who has more design and more revenge,
with ten thousand times less of parts, is angry at not
obtaining a marquisate, and pushed Charles upon knavery.
The latter, delighted to go out of the straight path into
a crooked one, instilled into Mr. Conway, or found there,
scruples against the extent of Lord Chatham's plan for
squeezing the East India Company. The Committee of
that Company had given in their proposals1; Lord Chatham
was not content with them ; Conway and Townshend were.
Here was a fine field for the opposition to try a new battle,
and for this they reserved themselves. Last Friday was
appointed. Beckford, by Lord Chatham's desire, moved
to have the proposal laid before the House. Townshend
inflamed the matter as much as he could. Mr. Conway
reserved himself, and said little. Charles Yorke, the
mysterious oracle of Lord Kockingham, trimmed so much
that Grenville was angry, and that brought out his hatred
to his allies. In short, the two oppositions could not agree
on a single point, and so did not dare to divide — a symptom
LETTER 1164. — l 'The Directors Cabinet thinking the Directors
offered to give up half their revenues meant to waive, others to save their
and half their trade, with the right right.' (Memoirs of George III, ed.
annexed. These last words were dif- 1894, vol. ii. p. 303.)
ferently interpreted : some of the
1767] To Sir Horace Mann 91
of weakness that will probably send back to the court all
its renegades. Townshend has acted in his usual wild,
romancing, indiscreet manner, and has told everybody he
is turned out. He is not ; and I suppose will beg pardon.
We have a fortnight's repose, and if the court is active,
I think the danger will be over ; but consider how many
strange heads we have, and how few good ones.
The diminution of the land tax turns out an unpopular
measure. Lord Temple, or Grenville, have procured
themselves an address of thanks from the grand jury of
Buckingham, but so larded with the exploded Stamp Act
that it will only revive animosity to them. They have tried
for more in other counties, and been refused. The King
is firm to Lord Chatham, and peremptory against Grenville.
The Eockinghams would join the latter if they dared,
fluctuate between him and Con way, and I hope now will be
blessed with Charles Townshend for their leader.
This is a much more comfortable letter than my last.
I do not bid you be confident, for I know the land. But, at
least, I think the other side does not abound in judgement
more than we do.
I have received yours, with the enclosed for Lord
Beauchamp, which I have delivered. He showed it to me ;
I encouraged him to try to serve you on the first oppor-
tunity. You will not think the present is one. Lord
Hillsborough urged your cause very strongly the other
night to Lady Aylesbury ; but I can scarce believe that you
will receive it from that quarter unless some considerable
change arrives. You will not, I know, take my advice on
this head, or I would recommend to you not to mark your-
self for a victim, if you could, till the times are more stable.
Adieu !
Tuesday, 10th.
Here is no bad postscript. The Grenville and Booking-
92 To William Langley [i767
ham factions, finding the mischief they had done themselves
by disunion on Friday last, have tried to repair their error ;
and yesterday, giving only a few hours' notice, got a petition
presented by an East India Director against the order for
printing their papers. Charles Townshend, though adver-
tised, kept away ; but Mr. Con way proposed that on
Wednesday (to-morrow) the Directors should name the
dangerous papers, and did not doubt but the House would
forbear printing them. This matter was fought stiffly till
nine at night. Mr. Conway never spoke so well, nor
Grenville so insolently ; challenging the administration
to battle on any set day. He will not, I trust, be so eager
for such a day now. We divided one hundred and eighty
against one hundred and forty-seven. You will say this
victory was not great enough ; but a court that can stand
a defeat from two hundred and six, and has a majority of
thirty-three on the next question, is not playing a losing
game. The King is firm ; Lord Bute's friends warm ; and
the calculators of chances probably now disposed to bet on
the side of the ministry. I have not time to say more.
Hope the best.
1165. To WILLIAM LANGLEY.
SIR, Arlington Street, March 13, 1767.
The declining state of my health, and a wish of retiring
from all public business, have, for some time, made me
think of not offering my service again to the town of Lynn,
as one of their representatives in Parliament. I was even
on the point, above eighteen months ago, of obtaining to
have my seat vacated, by one of those temporary places,
often bestowed for that purpose: but I thought it more
respectful, and more consonant to the great and singular
obligations I have to the Corporation and town of Lynn,
176?] To William Langley 93
to wait till I had executed their commands, to the last hour
of the commission they had voluntarily entrusted to me.
Till then, Sir, I did not think of making this declaration :
but hearing that dissatisfaction and dissensions have arisen
amongst you (of which I am so happy as to have been in
no shape the cause), that a warm contest is expected ; and
dreading to see, in the uncorrupted town of Lynn, what has
spread too fatally in other places, and what, I fear, will end
in the ruin of this constitution and country, I think it my
duty, by an early declaration, to endeavour to preserve
the integrity and peace of so great, so respectable, and BO
unblemished a borough.
My father was re-chosen by the free voice of Lynn, when
imprisoned and expelled by an arbitrary court and prostitute
Parliament : and from affection to his name, not from the
smallest merit in me, they unanimously demanded me for
their member, while I was sitting for Castle Rising.
Gratitude exacts what in any other light might seem
vainglorious in me to say, but it is to the lasting honour
of the town of Lynn, I declare, that I have represented
them in two Parliaments without offering, or being asked,
for the smallest gratification by any one of my constituents.
May I be permitted, Sir, to flatter myself they are persuaded
their otherwise unworthy representative has not disgraced
so free and unbiased a choice ?
I have sat above five-and-twenty years in Parliament;
and allow me to say, Sir, as I am, in a manner, giving up
my account to my constituents, that my conduct in Parlia-
ment has been as pure as my manner of coming in thither.
No man who is, or has been minister, can say that I have
ever asked or received a personal favour. My votes have
neither been dictated by favour nor influence; but by
the principles on which the Revolution was founded, the
principles by which we enjoy the establishment of the
94 To George Augustus Selwyn [1767
present royal family, the principles to which the town
of Lynn has ever adhered, and by which my father com-
menced and closed his venerable life. The best and only
honours I desire, would be to find that my conduct has
been acceptable and satisfactory to my constituents.
From your kindness, Sir, I must entreat to have this
notification made in the most respectful and grateful manner
to the Corporation and town of Lynn. Nothing can exceed
the obligations I have to them, but my sensibility to their
favours ; and be assured, Sir, that no terms can outgo the
esteem I have for so upright and untainted a borough,
or the affection I feel for all their goodness to my family
and to me. My trifling services will be overpaid if
they graciously accept my intention of promoting their
union, and preserving their virtue ; and though I may
be forgotten, I never shall, or can, forget the obligations
they have conferred on,
Sir, their and your
Most devoted humble servant,
HOR. WALPOLE.
1165*. To GEORGE AUGUSTUS SELWYN.
DEAR SiR, Thursday, March 18th.
In obedience to your orders, I went to your house this
morning, and found both the piece of glass and the scalloped
pattern, which I carried to Betts's. He had not one like
the former, but has promised I shall have an exact one on
Saturday or Monday at farthest. I will take care and send
it away according to your directions.
I am glad to hear Lord March finds benefit from the
waters ; pray make my compliments to him, to Eaton, and
LETTER 1165*. — Not in C. ; now was wrongly dated by Horace Wai-
first printed from original in poa- pole ; March 18 in 1767 fell on
session of Messrs. Maggs. This letter Wednesday, not on Thursday.
176?] To George Augustus Selwyn 95
Eatonissa. I wish you had told me anything of Crawford ;
I am anxious to hear how he does.
You will have learnt the terrible accident that has
happened to poor Lord Tavistock1. The messages one
gets to-day say he has had a good night ; but it will be
a fortnight at least before his family can have the least
assurance of his life. Their distress is increased by being
obliged to conceal the greatness of his danger from Lady
Tavistock, who is six months gone with child.
I know no other news but politics. The Grenvilles and
Eockinghams had conceived high hopes, which have been
mightily dashed by the last majority in favour of the court.
The King is so warm and Lord Bute's friends so active, that
there can be little doubt but they will weather this storm.
Charles Townshend has entertained us with another
interlude : took part against Lord Chatham, declared him-
self out of place, nobody knew whether turned out or
resigning ; kept away on a great day of his own business,
hatched a quarrel with Colonel Barre, returned yesterday
to the House, acted as Chancellor of the Exchequer, outwent
the rest of the ministers, made no mention of Barre, talked
of his measures for the rest of the session, and probably
dines with Lord Eockingham to-day and sups with the
Duke of Grafton. What he will do next besides exposing
himself, you nor I nor he can tell. Adieu !
Yours ever,
H.W.
1 Oaly son of the fourth Duke of chase, fell with him, and his Lord-
Bedford. 'On Tuesday the 10th ship, not being able to quit the reins,
instant, his Lordship being a stag- was trampled on, whereby several
hunting, leapt his horse over a low fractures were made in his head."
hedge towards the end of the chase, (Ann. Beg. 1767, p. 715.) Lord Tavis-
when the horse being much fatigued tock lingered till March 22 j he was
and jaded with the length of the only twenty-eight yean old.
96 To Sir Horace Mann [1767
1166. To SIK HOEACE MANN.
Arlington Street, March 19, 1767.
WELL ! I think you may begin to compose yourself
again. The fortune of my Lord Chatham will ride out the
storm though it blows from almost all quarters. The East
Indian affair is entangled in so many difficulties, that Lord
knows when we shall see an end of it, if it can be ended
this session. It has slipped from the House of Commons
back to the General Court of Proprietors, where they are
at this moment actually balloting for two different proposals
of accommodation with the Government. We were to have
gone upon it to-morrow, but must now put it off. The
opposition clog it all they can. Grenville wishes to stop
it, that he may be minister, and adjust it. So far he and
the rest are successful, that they have shut almost every
door of supply ; but that falls only on the nation itself,
and of course they do not care. In the meantime the
court exerts strenuously in support of Lord Chatham :
the delays operate for him, and chance has done more
than all.
Lord Tavistock, the Duke of Bedford's only son, has
killed himself by a fall and kick of his horse, as he was
hunting Tuesday was se'nnight. I do not mean that he is
dead yet, but he has been twice trepanned, the skull is
cracked through, and there are no hopes of his life. No
man was ever more regretted ; the honesty, generosity,
humility, and moderation of his character, endeared him
to all the world. The desolation of his family is extreme.
Lady Tavistock, passionately in love with him, is six
months gone with child. The news came about two hours
before she was to go to the Opera : they did not dare to tell
her the worst so abruptly ; so the Duke and Duchess were
forced to go too, to conceal it from her and the Duchess
n a,fiainM,uy /y • /i'r'l<:i/ii«i .'/try ti/'/r/.i.. '/..'A . /
1767] To Sir Horace Mann 97
of Maryborough l, who was with child too, and has since
miscarried. Two days ago the Duke of Bedford's head
broke out in boils, which shows the effort he had made to
suppress his agony, and which probably has saved his life ;
yet subject to the gout, and very nearly blind, if this loss
is not fatal, it will certainly make him quit the world ; and
as his two grandsons * are infants of two and three years old,
it must loosen the bonds of that party, which was almost
all the support George Grenville could boast, for Lord
Temple does but join odium to odium. Even the lingering
of Lord Tavistock relaxes the activity of that faction. It is
a great event, lucky for the administration, but a loss to
the country for the time to come.
Charles Townshend's tergiversations appear to have been
the result of private jobbing. He had dealt largely in India
stock, cried up the Company's right to raise that stock, has
sold out most advantageously, and now cries it down.
What ! and can a Chancellor of the Exchequer stand such
an aspersion ? Oh, my dear Sir, his character cannot be
lowered. In truth, it is a very South Sea year — at least
one-third of the House of Commons is dipped in this
traffic ; and stock-jobbing now makes patriots, as every-
thing else has done. From the Alley 3 to the House it is
like a path of ants.
Mr. Conway is in great felicity, going to marry his only
daughter to Lord Milton's eldest son, Mr. Darner. The
estate in Lord Milton's possession is already three-and-
twenty thousand pounds a year. Seven more are just
coming from the author of this wealth, an old uncle4 in
LETTER 1166. — 1 Daughter of the Eussell (1766-1839), who succeeded
Duke of Bedford. Walpole. his brother as sixth Duke of Bedford
2 Francis Russell (1765-1802), Lord in -1802.
Russell ; succeeded his father as 3 Change Alley, CornhilL
Marquis of Tavistock in 1767, and * John Darner (d. 1768), of Shrone-
his grandfather as fifth Duke of hill, Tipperary.
Bedford in 1771 ; and Lord John
WALPOLE. VII
98 To Sir Horace Mann [i767
Ireland, of ninety -three. Lord Milton gives up five thousand
a year in present, and settles the rest ; for his two other
boys are amply provided for. Miss Conway is to have
a jointure of two thousand five hundred, and five hundred
pin-money. Her fortune, which is ten thousand, goes in
jewels, equipage, and furniture. Her person is remarkably
genteel and pleasing, her face very sensible and agreeable,
and wanting nothing but more colour.
A senator of Kome, while Kome survived,
Would not have matched his daughter with a prince,
if there had been such rich lords at home. I think you
should write a compliment on the occasion. It is the more
creditable, as Lord Milton sought the match. Mr. Conway
gives up all the money he has in the world, — and has no
East India bonds. Adieu I
P.S. When you do not hear from me, conclude all goes
well.
1167. To SIR HORACE MANN.
Strawberry Hill, April 5, 1767.
I AM sorry for what you tell me of a successor being
thought of for you, though I trust there is no danger of its
taking place. Should the old drunken uncle 1 last, sure the
worst that could happen would be, that the nephew 2 would
be overjoyed to obtain what you would refuse, and what he
dares not hope for. Without a removal, I have no notion
of your being set aside, in the present situation of things.
Mr Conway is so essential to the present system, that
nobody would venture to disoblige him: and removing
you would be disobliging him.
You now perceive, my dear Sir, the prudence of my
LETTER 1167. — l Lord Northington. Walpole.
8 Sir James Wright. Walpole.
1767] To Sir Horace Mann 99
constant advice to you of not making yourself particularly
noticed, or obnoxious by receiving too many favours from
any one quarter. Your services are allowed: but might
not a riband be thought, or at least be pleaded as ft pay-
ment ? Such unsettled times as these are not a season for
thrusting oneself forward. God knows when they will be
more stable ! But pray, suffer one on the spot to be a little
better judge than you can be. It is not what will figure
at Florence, but what would give umbrage at London, that
it is your business to consider.
No event has happened since my last : and yet the crisis
does not seem past. The court, were there no radical evils,
would, I think, easily baffle opposition, though great en-
deavours have been used of late to cement the factions of
Eockingham and Grenville into one. Those attempts have
not quite succeeded. The Marquis thinks it full as necessary
for himself to be First Minister, as Grenville thinks he
should, and neither will bend ; at least, though Grenville
has appeared the more pliant, his sincerity does not gain the
more credit. Nobody can believe him disposed to act under
a chit, but till his own purposes are served.
The House of Commons has been engaged this fortnight
in examining the East India Company, and every single
evidence has brought forth in stronger and stronger colours
the right of the crown to the conquests made by the
Company. This was thought the great problematic and
ticklish question. There is now the highest probability
that the Government will carry that point.
But there is a misfortune not so easily to be surmounted,
the state of Lord Chatham's health, who now does not only
not see the ministers, but even does not receive letters. The
world, on the report of the opposition, believe bis head dis-
ordered, and there is so far a kind of colour for this rumour,
that he has lately taken Dr. Addington, a physician in
H 2
100 To Sir Horace Mann [i767
vogue, who originally was a mad doctor. The truth I believe
is, that Addington 3, who is a kind of empiric, has forbidden
his doing the least business, though he lies out of town, and
everybody sees him pass in his coach along the streets. His
case, I should think, is a symptomatic fever, that ought to
turn to gout ; but Addington keeps him so low that the
gout cannot make its effort. Lord Chatham's friends are
much alarmed, and so they say is Addington himself ; yet,
what is strange, he calls in no other help.
This delays all business, which had all been too long
delayed. America, from whence the accounts are unpleas-
ing, is yet to come on the carpet, so, notwithstanding the
expedience of putting an end to the session, one knows not
when it will be concluded. Whatever happens, I do not
think Mr. Conway can be left out of the drama, nor is it
probable that Grenville will enter victoriously upon the
scene : both King and people hate him ; but fools in this
country can often do more than wise men can effect or
prevent, and Lord Rockingham and his party are silly
enough to do a great deal of mischief. Even old Newcastle
whets his busy blunted sting. In truth, our squabbles are
contemptible, and merely personal ; I wish I could think
the consequences as indifferent. I wish too, that it may
call for your patience to wait the event. As I told you in
my last, whenever I do not write, you may be sure no revo-
lution has happened. Be, however, prepared ; such a sus-
pense as the present cannot last much longer, but must be
determined one way or other. Lord Chatham's recovery
and appearance would quash the opposition. His death
would occasion a new settlement, and yet not of necessity
pave the way for Grenville.
I saw your sister Foote the other night, at a great concert
8 Antony Addington (1713-1790), Sidmouth, Speaker of the House of
father of Henry Addington, Viscount Commons and Prime Minister.
1767] To Sir Horace Mann 101
at Lady Ailesbury's, with her two sons, who are charming
young men.
The papers have told you what I bid you expect, the death
of poor Lord Tavistock. The Duchess feels it heavily, but
the politicians of his court have decided that the Duke shall
soon act as if he had forgotten it. Adieu !
1168. To THE REV. HENRY ZOUCH.
SIR, Strawberry Hill, April 6, 1767.
Your letter has lain here a few days while I was in
London, or I should certainly have obeyed your commands
sooner. I will leave word with my housekeeper, as I am
not settled here yet, to admit Sir Thomas Wentworth and
your friends, whenever they shall call to see my house.
I am much obliged to you, Sir, for your kind inquiry
after my health. I was extremely ill the two last summers,
but have had no complaint since Christmas last. I should
have been very glad if you had given me as good an account
of your own health, which I most sincerely desire, and am,
Sir, rrjfcli
Your most obedient
Humble servant,
HOB. WALPOLE.
1169. To SIR HORACE MANN.
Strawberry Hill, Friday, April 17, 1767.
MY letter will not set out till Tuesday, though it ought to
have gone to-night ; but I had not time to write it in town,
nor was well enough ; for I went to the House of Commons
with a very bad cold, was so fatigued, and got such a head-
LETTER1168.— Not inC.; reprinted the Earl of Hertford and the Rev.
from 4to ed. (1826) of the Letters to H. Zouch, p. 284.
UBKARf
OHWERSITY OF CAUFORNfc
102 To Sir Horace Mann [i767
ache with staying there until two in the morning, that I was
obliged to defer notifying our victory to you till I could
come hither for a little repose.
The examination of the East India Company turned out
so little to the content of the opposition, and staggered so
many of the country gentlemen, who are less hardened than
even a Patriot opposition, that they were very impatient to
be rid of it. Some ten days ago they gave notice, that
unless Beckford, who has conducted the business for Lord
Chatham, should, the very moment after closing the evidence,
produce his plan and motions, they would propose to — nay,
that they would break up the Committee ; for they already
talked as masters, and boasted of having a majority in both
Houses. They were encouraged in this vaunt by success in
a point that had scarce been contested with them ; this was
the re-election of most of the late Board of Indian Directors.
The Duke of Bedford was carried to the India House to
vote — his son had not been dead three weeks. They went
farther ; carried him to the House of Lords this day se'nnight,
and made him open a motion for which Lord Temple had
summoned the Lords, though without acquainting them
what it was to be : they had concealed the purport from
their associates, Lord Kockingham's faction, by which, and
more folly, they were defeated. Everybody but themselves
was shocked at the Duke's indecent spirits and insensibility.
The motion was, to address the King to set aside an act of
the assembly at Massachusetts Bay, in which they have
irreverently taken upon themselves the powers of Parliament.
Lord Halifax imprudently falling upon Mr. Conway, the
Duke of Kichmond took his part, and on the previous ques-
tion voted with Lord Buckingham and five more, with the
court. That old busy sinner, Newcastle, and most of the
faction, went away ; and the court had sixty- three to thirty-
six. This victory was, however, alarming, as the union of
1767] To Sir Horace Mann 103
the two factions would have run the court very hard.
Impatient to recover their ground, the opposition hurried
on their impolitic question in our House ; and their boasts
alarmed the Government so seriously, or rather Lord Bute,
that he put forth all his strength ; and after a debate of
eleven hours, we were two hundred and thirteen to one
hundred and fifty-seven. Yesterday the House adjourned
for the holidays. Many country gentlemen will probably
not come back this session ; and unless we commit new
absurdities, the opposition is demolished ; but consider, if
we had not been wonderfully ingenious for these last three
months, our majority might have been double I
When the session will end the Lord knows ! We have
still the East India business to finish — indeed, to begin, if
Lord Chatham will not accommodate with them, but pushes
it to extremities. After that, the settlement of America is
to come, which is still a more thorny point, but, Caesarem
vehimus — we carry Lord Chatham and his Fortune ; who is
as fond of him as ever woman was of a wayward gentleman.
He locks up his doors, and will neither see her nor anybody
else; yet she is as constant as ever; I believe she is like
me, and abhors the idea of Grenville for minister.
The Hereditary Prince arrived on Monday night, and two
days after news came of his mother's death. I believe he
will stay a very little time.
You wrong me in saying that if I desire it, you will stir
no more for your riband. I do not advise you to give it up,
but to excuse my interfering in it, and not to push it too
violently. I should be glad to have you receive it from the
King as an old promise ; but fluctuating as our politics are,
I am afraid it might be a demerit with another ministry to
have received it from this. You was still more mistaken in
thinking I hinted that Mr. Conway was not your friend :
very far from it ; I meant he has little or no power since Lord
104 To Dr. Ducarel [i767
Chatham came in, and not having pleased him thoroughly
on the East Indian affair, was not likely to have more. You
must consider how difficult it is for me to explain everything
by the post, and should not take everything to yourself,
which you do not clearly comprehend. I say as much as
I can well, and you must make allowances for the rest.
Adieu !
P.S. It is not the Duchess of Brunswick that is dead, but
some other old Princess of that house.
Last night we learned a great event, the total expulsion
of the Jesuits from Spain ; they are all coming to your next
door *. It is supposed to have proceeded from their having
stirred up the insurrection at Madrid last year, when King
Carlos was so wofully frightened. They must be a very silly
set of fellows to be still meddling, when the times are so
unfavourable. I wish they would be a little absurd here,
that we might drive them out too ; but in England, follies
hurt nobody 5 nor have time : new ones succeed so rapidly.
1170. To Ds. DUCAEEL.
April 25, 1767.
MR. WALPOLE has been out of town, or should have
thanked Dr. Ducarel sooner for the obliging favour of his
most curious and valuable work1, which Mr. Walpole has
read with the greatest pleasure and satisfaction. He will
be very much obliged to Dr. Ducarel if he will favour him
with a set of the prints separate ; which Mr. Walpole would
be glad to put into his volumes of English Heads ; and
shall be happy to have an opportunity of returning these
obligations.
LETTER 1169. — a They intended to LETTEE 1170. — * A reprint, with
land at Civiti Vecchia, but were additions, of Ducarel's Anglo-Norman
prevented by the Pope, and finally Antiquities considered.
disembarked in Corsica.
1767]
To Sir Horace Mann
105
1171. To SIB HORACE MANN.
Arlington Street, May 12, 1767.
NOTHING was ever so vexatious ! I have just written you
a long letter of three sides, and laid it upon the hearth to
dry, while I stepped into the next room to fetch some seal-
ing-wax ; a coal has fallen on it, and I find it all in flames.
I have not time to write half of it again : I will just run
over the heads, if I can remember them.
My chief article was a wonderful speech * made by Charles
LETTEK 1171. — l The following
memorandum by Horace Walpole
of Charles Townshend's speech, found
among Miss Berry's papers, is here
printed from the original in the pos-
session of the late Sir T. V. Lister : —
' May 8th, 1767.
Charles Townshend had come to
the House with a black silk hanging
over his wounded eye, which in the
warmth of debate he turned aside,
and discovered two very small slips
of sticking-plaster over and below
his eye, not amounting to more than
scratches. In the beginning of the
day he made a fine speech, in which
he said he hoped his behaviour in
the conduct of the transaction with
the East India Company had wiped
out the levities and imperfections of
his former life ; and he magnified
his own firmness in having borne
and overborne much reproach and
contradiction, which he insinuated
to have received from Lord Chatham,
whom he had not seen during the
winter. At four o'clock he left the
House, though the management of
the day depended on him ; and taking
one or two members with him, he
went to dinner. His presence growing
absolutely necessary, Mr. Conway
sent for him. He returned about
eight, as Mr. Grenville was speaking ;
after whom Townshend rose, half
drunk, and made the most extrava-
gantly fine speech that ever was
heard. It lasted an hour, with
torrents of wit, ridicule, vanity, lies,
and beautiful language. Not a word
was premeditated, yet every sentence
teemed with various allusions and
metaphors, and every period was
complete, correct, and harmonious.
His variety of tones and gesticula-
tion surpassed the best actor in
comedy, yet the faltering of his
pronunciation from liquor, and the
buffoonery of his humour and mimi-
cry, would not have been suffered
in high comedy. Nothing had given
occasion to his speech, and there
was no occasion on which it would
not have been as proper, or, to say
truth, as improper ; for if anything
could exceed his parts, it was his
indiscretion. He meant to please
everybody and exalt himself; but
lest he should not enough distinguish
the latter, he took care to overturn
all he had done to effect the former.
The whole of his speech was divert-
ing to every man that hated any
set of men ; it was impertinent and
offensive to all it described or seemed
to compliment ; and was most pain-
ful to those who had any love for
him. The purport seemed to be an
intention of recommending Lord
Eockingham's party for ministers,
with himself at the head of them ;
complimenting but sneering at Gren-
ville, and slightly noticing Conway.
But lest the great families whom he
106
To Sir Horace Mann
[1767
Townshend last Friday, apropos to nothing, and yet about
everything — about ministries past, present, and to come ;
himself in particular, whom I think rather past than to
come. It was all wit and folly, satire and indiscretion — he
was half drunk when he made it ; and yet that did but serve
to raise the idea of his abilities. I am sorry I have not
time to be more particular, it would have diverted you.
Nothing else is talked of, or at least was not when I began
my letter.
The treaty with the East India Company is at a stop.
The General Court went mad, voted themselves a dividend,
and dismissed prosecutions against six of their servants,
against whom they had commenced suits for bribery. The
adopted should assume too much, he
ridiculed the incompetence of birth
and high blood, cried up the sole ad-
vantage of abilities and experience,
and informed those he protected that
rank was not talents, and that they
must wait till ripened, and not come
to government as if forced in a hot-
bed. The most injurious part fell
on the crown, he stating the mis-
chiefs of the late so frequent changes,
calling for restitution of the first
post in administration to the House
of Commons, and treating the actual
ministry as no longer existent.
Government, he said, must not con-
tinue to be what he himself was
always called, a weathercock.
Nobody but he could have made
that speech ; and nobody but he
would have made [it], if they could.
It was at once a proof that his abili-
ties were superior to those of all
men, and his judgement below that
of any man. It showed him capable
of being, and unfit to be, First Minis-
ter. Yet though it was rather the
tittle-tattle of a coffee-house, and the
flower of table eloquence, still was it
the confusion of affected and laboured
oratory. Nature in him made sport
with rules and meditation ; and
half a bottle of champagne, poured
on genuine genius, had kindled this
wonderful blaze.
The House was in a roar of rap-
ture, and some clapped their hands
with ecstasy, like audience in a
theatre. Nor was it the least striking
circumstance of this speech, that,
laying his hand on his heart, he
called God to witness that he had
not been made privy to the business
of the day. Fourteen of the minis-
terial managers, who then were
actually sitting round him, had con-
certed with him the motion at Town-
shend's own house that very morn-
ing, and were thunderstruck at his
madness and effrontery; and when
Conway, the moment he concluded,
asked him how he could utter such
a falsehood, he thought it the most
favourable way of recommending the
business to the House.
In this speech, he beat Lord
Chatham in language, Burke in
metaphors, Grenville in presump-
tion, Bigby in impudence, himself
in folly, and everybody in good hu-
mour ; for he pleased while he pro-
voked at random ; was malicious to
nobody, cheerful to all ; and if his
speech was received with delight, it
was only remembered with pity."
1767] To Sir Horace Mann 107
House of Commons were justly enraged, and we are hatching
a bill to prevent irregular dividends for the future ; perhaps
may extend a retrospect to the last. The opposition are
thunderstruck ; which is no little victory ; yet were it better
the agreement had taken place. The General Court has
again voted to treat, but insist on their dividend. Mr. Conway
moderates as much as possible, and I hope will be successful.
To-morrow we shall sit day and night on America a, wherein
he adheres to moderation too, but I doubt will be over-
powered. Lord Chatham's friends are for warmer work on
both heads. Himself is no longer seen at all ; consequently
you may believe the suspicion of madness does not decrease.
Is not this very magnificent ? A senate regulating the
Eastern and Western worlds at once ? The Eomans were
triflers to us ; and yet our factions and theirs are as like as
two peas.
In France there is a great flame on the affair of the Jesuits.
It is known that they were to have attempted a revolution
in Spain on Holy Thursday. The famous Abbe Chauvelin ',
the author of their demolition, has again denounced them to
the Parliament, and demands their total expulsion on this
new provocation, alleging that they were the cause of the
late troubles in Bretagne, where they had again got footing.
If they will make revolutions, why the devil don't they go
to Petersburgh ? Nobody could blame them for any mischief
they might do to the Czarina.
Well ! I must conclude, or my letter will be too late : you
may pity me for stewing in the House of Commons at this
time of year, but, luckily, we have no spring. They say it
is the same everywhere, and that the frost has killed all the
vines in France and Italy. Adieu !
2 On May 13 Charles Townshend 8 The Abb6 Henri Philippe de
proposed certain import duties to be Chanvelin (1716-1770), author of two
paid by the American colonies. The pamphlets on the constitution and
bill passed almost without opposition, doctrine of the Jesuits.
108 To the Duke of Grafton [i?67
1172. To THE DUKE OP GRAFTON.
Arlington Street, May 23, 1767.
I MUST entreat your Grace, to look upon the trouble I give
you with your usual indulgence ; and as my zeal to serve
you has been hitherto attended with success, I will beg you
to hear me with patience, when things are come to such
a crisis, that my endeavours to prevent Mr. Conway's resig-
nation are almost exhausted. Your Grace knows his honour
and delicacy, and I may be bold to tell you, who are actuated
by the same motives, that it is the character I hope he will
always maintain. I had much rather see him give up every-
thing and preserve his honour, than stay with discredit.
But in the present case, I think him too much swayed by
men who consult nothing but their own prejudices, passions,
and interests, to which they would sacrifice him and the
country.
I need not tell your Grace, that on the dismission of Lord
Edgcumbe l, Mr. Conway declared he would not remain long
in the ministry. With infinite pains I have prevailed to
keep him in place to the end of the session. He now per-
sists in quitting, but the extravagance and unreasonableness
of his old friends 2, I think, ought to discharge him from all
ties to them. They have abused him in print, reflected on
him in Parliament ; and I maintain have broken all their
engagements to him. I will name nobody, but was witness in
the summer, to repeated promises from them that they would
(though taking liberties mth Lord Chatham) distinguish Mr.
Conway, commend him, and openly in their speeches avow their
abhorrence of Mr. Grrenville. The world have seen how they
have adhered to these declarations. What is worse, when
Mr. Conway came over to them in the American business
LETTER 11 72. — Not in C. ; reprinted 1 See letter to Mann of Dec. 8,
from Memoirs of Augustus Henry, third, 1766.
Duke of Grafton, p. 141. 8 The Bockingham party.
1767] To the Duke of Grafton 109
and professed publicly his disposition towards them, was it
not notorious that they received him with the utmost cold-
ness and indifference? They not only avoided a single
expression of good will to him, but sat still, and heard him
abused by Grenville and Kigby. He was thoroughly hurt
at this behaviour, and I would beg your Grace to paint it
strongly to him.
In many late conversations with him, they have shown
the utmost extravagance : they not only aim at everything,
but espouse Mr. Grenville, and though they say they do not
like him for First Minister, would absolutely make him a
part of their system. Mr. Conway objected strongly, and
I went so far as to reproach them with this contradiction to
all their declarations, and with adopting so arbitrary and
unpopular a man.
Having stated these facts, I will now take the liberty of
informing your Grace of my motives of writing you this
letter. I told Mr. Conway, that if Ms friends would not come
in, I could not conceive why he was to go out', and that I
thought the question turned singly on this. When he made
his declaration to them, he at the same time protested
against entering into opposition. If they therefore will not
come in but by force, does not their refusal put an end to
his connection with them? Nothing therefore seems left
but to drive them to this refusal. Accordingly, I have
begged Mr. Conway to open his mind to your Grace, and
I thought it right to apprise your Grace of what he will say
to you, that you may not be surprised, and may be prepared
with your answer. Your kindness to him, my Lord, has
been invariable, and I am sure will continue so on this
occasion, which I flatter myself may preserve the union of
two men who have the strictest honour, and most public
spirit of any men in England. The more indulgence your
Grace shows to his scruples and delicacy, the more he will
110 To Sir Horace Mann [i?67
feel the wildness and unreasonableness of his other connec-
tiona Pray, my Lord, forgive the extreme liberty I take
of suggesting behaviour to your Grace ; but knowing Mr.
Conway as I do better than anybody does, I am called upon
to paint to your Grace the best method of treating with him.
If you should be so good as to tell him that you are willing
to assist his delicacy, and to contribute to bring in his
friends on reasonable terms, and that you hope he will not
gratify them in any unreasonable hopes ; it will open the
door to a negotiation, in which I can venture to say they
will be so immoderate in their demands, that it will not
only shock him, but be a strong vindication to his Majesty's
rejection of them, and what is most at my heart, may, I
hope, conduce to retain Mr. Conway in the Bang's service,
when his other friends have shown that they mean nothing,
but to engross all power in league with the worst men, or to
throw the country into the last confusion.
If I can but prevail to keep Mr. Conway united with your
Grace and acting with you, it is the height of my ambition ;
and if your Grace is so good as at least to accept my labours
favourably, I shall be overpaid, for I have most undoubt-
edly no views for myself but those of being approved by
honest men ; and as there is nobody I can esteem more than
your Grace, I am not ashamed, my Lord, though you are
a minister, of professing myself
Your Grace's
Most obedient and devoted humble Servant,
HOB. WALPOLE.
1173. To SIB HOBACE MANN.
Strawberry Hill, May 24, 1767.
WE are worn out here with the Parliament, but happily
the Parliament is almost worn out too ; not so much from
1767] To Sir Horace Mann III
not having business still before it, but the champions are
fairly knocked up. The country gentlemen are all gone,
and George Grenville himself, the inexhaustible haranguer
Grenville, confesses he is tired. The truth is, he is beaten,
has no hopes, and spits blood. Three weeks I trust will
give us our. quietus. Mr. Conway's moderation and patience
has at last brought to bear the accommodation with the East
India Company \ and it only wants the Act of Parliament
to finish it. In the meantime the House of Lords has re-
vived the drooping opposition. Last Friday they examined
the rejection by the Privy Council of the act of assembly of
Massachusetts Bay 2. Lord Mansfield maintained that more
was necessary; that it ought to have been declared null
db initio ; and demanded that the opinions of the judges
might be taken. He spoke with all his subtlety, but was
very roughly handled by the Chancellor * and Lord North-
ington. The judges would not have given their opinions if
asked. However, the motion was rejected by only sixty-two
voices to fifty-six. You will be startled at so trifling a
majority ; but the case was, the opposition had called for
papers, which naturally go to the Committee ; and in a Com-
mittee proxies cannot be used ; so that if the opposition had
even carried the question, they would have lost it the next
moment on the report to the House, by thirty proxies
to ten.
A more remarkable event of the day was, that the Duke
of York spoke for the first time— and against the court ; but
LKTTBR 1173. — 1 The East India their bill granting a free pardon to
Company had agreed to pay to the the rioters. This clause was deemed
Government four hundred thousand an encroachment on the constitu-
pounds a year for two years. tional rights of the crown, and their
2 ' The Assembly of Massachusetts bill was accordingly annulled by an
had reluctantly complied with the Order of the King in Council.' (S*an-
requisition of the Secretary of State, hope, History of England, ed. 1853,
Lord Shelburne, to award compensa- vol. v. p. 181.)
tion to the sufferers in the recent s Lord Camden. Walpole.
riots, but had inserted a clause in
112 To Sir Horace Mann [i?67
did not vote. His two brothers 4 voted with the ministry.
I am assured by everybody (for I was not present), that if
the administration can stand till routed by his eloquence,
they will be immortal. How he puts one in mind of his
father! This is not the only walk of fame he has lately
chosen. He is acting plays with Lady Stanhope 5 and her
family, the Delavals. They have several times played The
Fair Penitent : his Royal Highness is Lothario ; the lady,
I am told, an admirable Calista. They have a pretty little
theatre in Westminster ; but none of the royal family have
been audience. I doubt, my dear Sir, that your riband will
not sail to you by that channel. I have never been at this
play ; for though I was told I might ask for a ticket, and
did not want curiosity, yet as some people have been refused,
I did not choose to have such a silly matter to take ill.
Lord Chatham's state, I doubt, is, too clearly, the gout
flown up into his head. He may recover, but, as yet, he is
assiduously kept from all company. The opposition have
named, and firmly believe, a new administration, composed
of Lord Bute's friends, with the Duke of Northumberland
at the head ; but I believe their best reason for believing it
is, from having applied in that quarter themselves, and been
rejected. One event I think will happen before it is long,
and which may produce changes. Mr. Conway, I think,
will retire, not from disgust, or into opposition, but from
delicacy towards his old friends. This was my chief reason
for writing to you to-night. It is not decided yet, nor
publicly known, but I chose you should be apprised, and
not think there were any reasons more disagreeable for it.
To me it will have nothing unpalatable. I have long wished
to be off the stage ; and near three months ago notified my
4 The Dukes of Gloucester and wife of Sir W. Stanhope, brother of
Cumberland. Walpole. Philip, the celebrated Earl of Chester-
8 Sister of Sir Francis Delaval, and field. Walpole.
1767] To Sir Horace Mann 113
intention of coming into Parliament no more. I am still
young enough to enjoy my liberty, without any formal
austerity of retiring, and yet shall not be hovering over
the scene when it is more decent to have done with it;
unless one had the ambition of being an actor, which,
happily, has never been my case. I never was more
than prompter. Adieu !
1174. To SIB HOEACE MANN.
Strawberry Hill, May 30, 1767.
You will wonder at another letter so soon, but do not be
alarmed. It is yourself you must wonder at ; you have
occasioned this hors-d'osuvre. Lady Holland is just arrived,
and has brought me— oh, brought me only the finest little
bust l that ever my eyes beheld. I gaze on it from morning
till night; and if it were possible for me to part with it,
I would send it you back, as the only return, my dear Sir,
that I can ever make you worthy of such a present. It is
more a portrait than any picture I ever saw. The sculptor
evidently studied nothing but the countenance. The hair
and ears seem neglected to heighten the expression of the
eyes, which are absolutely alive, and have, a wild melancholy
in them that one forebodes might ripen to madness. In
short, I do not know whether it is not more exquisite in its
kind than my eagle. At least this little Caligula is far
superior to my great Vespasian, which was allowed to be
the fourth or fifth bust in Home. I shall make a solemn
dedication of it in my pantheon chapel, and inscribe the
donor's name. I assure you it is not bronze, whatever you
may have thought, but flesh : the muscles play as I turn it
round. It is my reigning favourite ; and, though I have
LETTER 1174. — J A bust of Caligula, found at the discovery of Hercula-
neum, Walpole,
WALPOLE. VII
114 To Sir Horace Mann [i?67
some very fine things in my collection, I am fonder of
none— not of the eagle, or my Cowley2 in enamel.
It arrived to comfort me the very day I heard from Paris
that I had no success at the sale of Mons. Julien's * cabinet,
where everything sold as extravagantly as if the auction
had been here. Your other present, of Montesquieu's
Letters *, was very agreeable too ; I could not go to bed
till I had finished them at near three in the morning ; and
yet there is very little in them but ease and graces. I am
a little scandalized at the notes, which, though very true,
are too bitter, considering the persons are alive. Madame
Geoffrin will be much hurt : indeed, the letters themselves
that regard her are very mortifying ; and I think it cruel to
publish private letters while the persons concerned in them
are living. Nobody has a right to publish what the author
certainly did not mean such persons should ever see. It is
making him inflict a wound against his intention ; and such
publications must frighten people from writing their private
sentiments of others to their most intimate friends. The
case happened but last summer to my friend Lady Suffolk,
who found herself in some disagreeable letters of Swift.
After this, will you tell me where these Letters were
printed, and whose the notes 8 are ? You may safely ;
Madame Geoffrin and the Duchess d'Aiguillon were very
obliging to me at Paris, and I am sorry they will be vexed ;
but I have no particular friendship with them, and you may
be sure I shall never mention it. I have not even lent the
book to anybody (though it amused me enough to read it
twice), lest my Lady Hervey should hear of it, who loves
2 A miniature of Cowley the poet, 4 Lettres famUidres, published in
by Zincke, after the portrait by 1767.
Lely. 6 The Abb6 Galliani. Walpole.—
3 The Chevalier de Julienne (d. Ferdinand Galiani (1728-1787), a
1766), director of the Gobelins tapes- Neapolitan; a litterateur and secre-
try -works in Paris, and a collector tary to the Neapolitan Embassy in
of pictures. Paris.
1767] To Sir Horace Mann 115
them both. I own I am much obliged to you for it, and
you see you may trust my discretion.
Lady Holland has charged me to say a thousand civil
things to you for her and my Lord, who is not yet come
to town. She is as much enchanted with you as I am
with Caligula. The town will insist that my Lord Holland
was sent for to give advice for forming a new ministry.
I wish he was, for your sake. Your other protector6,
whom I mentioned in my last, is in great disgrace;
has been thoroughly chid, was not spoken to at a great
review on Monday in the face of all England, and, they
say, is to go on a pilgrimage with his sister to Spa.
Nothing has happened since my last; but the crisis
approaches — I was going to say, fast ; but there are so
many difficulties on all sides that I think nothing can be
settled quickly. I don't like the hue so well as I did.
I don't know whether it was not the very night I wrote to
you that there was a majority but of three in the House of
Lords. I should not mind that, if it frightened nobody
more than it does me. The times are very interesting now,
while things are yet in agitation ; and yet they will appear
most inconsiderable hereafter. Neither the actors nor the
actions are great, — and yet I could foresee great con-
sequences, according as the scenes shall be shifted ; but
I think the whole more likely to subside into trifling and
instability. We are nothing but factions, and those factions
have very limited views. There is not a man but George
Grenville who has any deep views. He is capable of any
extremities ; but he had rather be very bad for the court
than against it. Adieu !
8 The Duke of York. Walpole.
I 2
116 To Sir Horace Mann [i?67
1175. To SIB HORACE MANN.
Arlington Street, June 30, 1767.
WELL! at last, this long session is finished, and the
Parliament rises to-morrow. I have been so uncertain
what to write, that I have not written to you for a month.
I can now tell you but one point affirmatively : Mr. Con way
does quit. It is unlucky ; bad for the public, disadvantageous
for himself, distressing to the King ; but he had promised
his late friends. I call them late, for they have by no
means shown themselves so this winter, nor are half
grateful enough for such a sacrifice. He might be minister :
he retires with nothing.
They have bowed to idols, have been led by that old
heathen, the Duke of Newcastle, towards the Bedfords, and
have almost sacrificed even to Grenville. Well! what is
to follow? I am sure I don't know. There has been
a dabbling with the Bedfords, to detach them from Gren-
ville, — they refused ; and yet I believe are still hankering.
The pretensions of the last ministers are as high as if they
had any pretensions ; and yet they make a show of stick-
ling for the other opposition too. This cannot on either
part be granted. The court, too, is so strong, that it cannot
be taken by storm ; and even this last week, though the
Government is in a manner known to be dissolved, the
majority has been very triumphant. The House of Lords
has sat day after day, and night after night, on the Dividend
Bill 1, and yet all Lord Mansfield's abilities have been baffled.
I should rather think some administration would be patched
up from promiscuous quarters which may weather the next
session, and when a new Parliament is chosen, the King
LKTTBB 1175. — 1 A bill to regulate the dividend to be paid by the East
India Company.
1767] To Sir Horace Mann 117
may have what ministers he pleases. In a week, perhaps,
I may be able to be more informing; at present all is in
suspense.
I do not wonder your Great Duchess wonders that her
dogs are not arrived, and you must wonder too ; yet I am
not to blame. I cannot get such a thing of the smallness
and beauty you require. Lord Caere's bitch disappointed
me by a miscarriage. I have been at the repositories where
they are sold, yet could find but one, and that was tanned,
and too large. When Madame de Mirepoix was here,
I teased all my acquaintance for two. After six months
I got them, and she sent them back the next morning,
saying they were too large. I am called away and must
finish : you shall hear the moment anything is settled.
Adieu !
1176. To SIB HOEACE MANN.
Strawberry Hill, July 20, 1767.
You have heard enough, even in the late reign, of our
interministeriums, not to be surprised that the present lasts
so long. I am not writing now to tell you it is at an end ;
but I thought you might grow impatient.
The Parliament was scarce separated when a negotiation
was begun with the Bedfords, through Lord Gower; with
a view to strengthen the remains of administration by that
faction, but with no intention of including George Grenville,
who is more hated at court than he even is in other places.
After some treaty, Lord Gower, much against his will,
I believe, was forced to bring word, that there was no
objection made by his friends to the Treasury remaining in
the Duke of Grafton ; that Grenville would support without
a place ; but Lord Temple (who the deuce thought of Lord
Temple?) insisted on equal power, as he had demanded
with Lord Chatham. There was an end of that treaty!
118 To Sir Horace Mann [1767
Another was then begun with Lord Eockingham. He
pleaded want of strength in his party, — and he might have
pleaded almost every other want — and asked if he might
talk to the Bedfords. Yes! he might talk to whom he
pleased, but the King insisted on keeping the Chancellor, —
' And me,' said the Duke of Grafton ; but added, that for
himself, he was very willing to cede the Treasury to his
Lordship. Away goes the Marquis to Woburn ; and, to
charm the King more, negotiates with both Grenvilles too.
These last, who had demanded everything of the crown,
were all submission to the Marquis, and yet could not dupe
him so fast as he tried to be duped. Oh, all, all were
ready to stay out, or turn their friends in, or what he
pleased. He took this for his own talents in negotiation,
came back highly pleased, and notified his success. The
Duke of Grafton wrote to him that the King meant they
should come in, to extend and strengthen his administration.
Too elated with his imaginary power, the Marquis returned
an answer, insolently civil to the Duke, and not commonly
decent for the place it was to be carried to. It said that
his Lordship had laid it down for a principle of the treaty,
that the present administration was at an end. That
supposed, he was ready to form a comprehensive ministry,
but first must talk to the King.
Instead of such an answer as such a remonstrance deserved,
a very prudent reply was made. The King approved the
idea of a comprehensive administration : he desired to unite
the hearts of all his subjects: he meant to exclude men of
no denomination attached to his person and government ; it
was such a ministry that he intended to appoint. When his
Lordship should have formed a plan on such views, his
Majesty would be ready to receive it from him. The great
statesman was wofully puzzled on receiving this message.
However, he has summoned his new allies to assist in com-
1767] To Sir Horace Mann 119
posing a scheme or list. When they will bring it, how
they will bring it formed, or whether they will ever bring
it, the Lord knows. There the matter rests at present. If
the Marquis does not alter his tone, he sinks for ever, and
from being the head of a separate band, he must fall into
the train of Grenville, the man whom he and his friends
opposed on all the arbitrary acts of that ministry, and
whom they have irremissibly offended by repealing his
darling Stamp Act. Apropos, America is pacified, and the
two factions cannot join to fish in troubled waters, there,
at least.
Lord Olive is arrived, has brought a million for himself,
two diamond drops worth twelve thousand pounds for the
Queen, a scimitar, dagger, and other matters, covered with
brilliants, for the King, and worth twenty-four thousand
more. These baubles are presents from the deposed and
imprisoned Mogul, whose poverty can still afford to give
such bribes. Lord Clive refused some overplus1, and gave
it to some widows of officers : it amounted to ninety
thousand pounds. He has reduced the appointments of the
Governor of Bengal to thirty-two thousand pounds a year ;
and, what is better, has left such a chain of forts and
distribution of troops as will entirely secure possession of
th« country — till we lose it. Thus having composed the
Eastern and Western worlds, we are at leisure to kick and
cuff for our own little island, which is great satisfaction ;
and I don't doubt but my Lord Temple hopes that we shall
be so far engaged before France and Spain are ripe to meddle
with us, that when they do come, they will not be able to
reunite us.
Don't let me forget to tell you, that of all the friends you
LETTER 1176. — J A legacy of seventy the establishment of a fond for
thousand pounds, left to Clive by disabled officers of the East India
Mir Jaffier, was devoted by him to Company and their families
120 To the Earl of Stra/ord [1767
have shot flying, there is no one whose friendship for you
is so little dead as Lord Hillsborough's. He spoke to me
earnestly about your riband the other day, and said he
had pressed to have it given to you. Write and thank
him. You have missed one by Lord Olive's returning
alive, unless he should give a hamper of diamonds for
the Garter.
I told you how kindly Lady Holland spoke of you : but
she forgot what you tell me of the indulgence you obtained
of the Great Duke for my Lord. He is better since his
return, but grown a little peevish.
Well ! I have remembered every point but one — and see
how he is forgotten ! Lord Chatham ! He was pressed to
come forth and set the administration on its legs again.
He pleaded total incapacity ; grew worse and grows better.
Oh, how he ought to dread recovering !
Mr. Conway resigns the day after to-morrow. I hope
in a week to tell you something more positive than the
uncertainties in this letter. Good night.
1177. To THE EAEL OF STEAFFOED.
MY DEAR LORD, Strawberry Hill, July 29, 1767.
I am very sorry that I must speak of a loss that will give
you and Lady Strafford concern ; an essential loss to me,
who am deprived of a most agreeable friend, with whom
I passed here many hours. I need not say I mean poor
Lady Suffolk1. I was with her two hours on Saturday
night ; and, indeed, found her much changed, though I did
not apprehend her in danger. I was going to say she com-
plained— but you know she never did complain — of the
gout and rheumatism all over her, particularly in her face.
It was a cold night, and she sat below stairs when she
LETTBK 1177. — 1 Henrietta Hobart, Countess of Suffolk.
1767] To the Earl of Strafford 121
should have been in bed ; and I doubt this want of care
was prejudicial. I sent next morning. She had a bad
night ; but grew much better in the evening. Lady Dalkeith
came to her ; and, when she was gone, Lady Suffolk said to
Lord Chetwynd she would eat her supper in her bed-
chamber. He went up with her, and thought the appear-
ances promised a good night : but she was scarce sat down
in her chair, before she pressed her hand to her side, and
died in half an hour.
I believe both your Lordship and Lady Strafford will be
surprised to hear that she was by no means in the situation
that most people thought. Lord Chetwynd and myself were
the only persons at all acquainted with her affairs, and they
were far from being even easy to her. It is due to her
memory to say that I never saw more strict honour and
justice. She bore knowingly the imputation of being
covetous, at a time that the strictest economy could by
no means prevent her exceeding her income considerably.
The anguish of the last years of her life, though concealed,
flowed from the apprehension of not satisfying her few
wishes, which were, not to be in debt, and to make a pro-
vision for Miss Hotham *. I can give your Lordship strong
instances of the sacrifices she tried to make to her prin-
ciples. I have not yet heard if her will is opened ; but it
will surprise those who thought her rich. Lord Chetwynd's
friendship to her has been unalterably kind and zealous, and
is not ceased. He stays in the house with Miss Hotham
till some of her family come to take her away. I have
perhaps dwelt too long on this subject ; but, as it was not
permitted me to do her justice when alive, I own I cannot
help wishing that those who had a regard for her, may now
at least know how much more she deserved it than even
they suspected. In truth, I never knew a woman more
2 Her great-niece. Walpole,
122 To George Montagu [1767
respectable for her honour and principles, and have lost few
persons in my life whom I shall miss so much. I am,
My dear Lord,
Yours most sincerely,
HOE. WALPOLE.
1178. To GrEOKQE MONTAGU.
Arlington Street, July 81, 1767.
I FIND one must cast you into debt, if one has a mind to
hear of you. You would drop one with all your heart, if
one would let you alone. Did not you talk of passing by
Strawberry in June, on a visit to the Bishop 1 ? I did not
summon you, because I have not been sure of my own
motions for two days together for these three months. At
last all is subsided ; the administration will go on pretty
much as it was, with Mr. Conway for part of it. The fools
and the rogues, or, if you like proper names, the Kocking-
hams and the Grenvilles, have bungled their own game,
quarrelled, and thrown it away.
Where are you ? What are you doing ? Where are you
going or staying ? I shall trip to Paris in about a fortnight,
for a month or six weeks. Indeed, I have had such a loss
in poor Lady Suffolk, that my autumns at Strawberry will
suffer exceedingly — and will not be repaired by my Lord of
Buckingham2. I have been in pain, too, and am not yet
quite easy about my brother, who is in a bad state of health.
Have you waded through or into Lord Lyttelton 3 ? How
dull one may be, if one will but take pains for six or seven-
and-twenty years together !
Except one day's gout, which I cured with the bootikins,
LETTER 1178. — l Bichard Trevor, 2 Lady Suffolk's nephew, who in-
Bishop of Durham. Montagu an- herifced Marble HilL
nounoed this intention in one of his 3 His recently published History of
letters to Horace Walpole. the Life of Henry II.
1767] To Sir Horace Mann 123
I have been quite well since I saw you : nay, with a
microscope you would perceive I am fatter. Mr. Hawkins
saw it with his naked eye ; and told me it was common for
lean people to grow fat when they grow old. I am afraid
the latter is more certain than the former, and I submit to
it with a good grace. There is no keeping off age by sticking
roses and sweet peas in one's hair, as Miss Chudleigh does
still!
If you are not totally abandoned, you will send me a line
before I go. The Clive has been desperately nervous, but
I have convinced her it did not become her, and she has
recovered her rubicundity. Adieu !
Yours ever,
H. W.
1179. To SIB HOBACE MANN.
Arlington Street, July 31, 1767.
THE clouds disperse ; but there have been dark moments.
The very day on which I wrote to you last was critical.
A meeting of the two factions was held at Newcastle House,
where the Duke of Bedford was agent for the Grenvilles ;
and the old wretch himself laboured tooth and nail, that is,
with the one of each sort that he has left, to cement, or
rather, to make over his friends to the same influence. But
to no purpose ; passion reigned, and a quarrel soon ensued.
Grenville had commissioned his proxy to demand declara-
tions against America, whence, though everything is pacified,
his pride required a hecatomb of victims. This was not
yielded ; nor all the places under the Government, to glut
the rapaciousness of the Bedford crew. The latter, too,
formally protested against Mr. Conway's leading the House
of Commons, which Lord Kockingham's interest and necessity
called for, and which could not be waived, as Mr. Conway's
resignation was a sacrifice to that party. The meeting broke
124 To Sir Horace Mann [i?67
up in very bad terms : yet the Duke of Bedford, as if sensible
of his folly, begged another the next night ; and as if
insensible of his folly, repeated it, and clinched the quarrel.
Hallelujah ! What had Grenville to do but to let the
present administration be dissolved ? He could never have
wanted occasion to break with Lord Eockingham again.
On the Wednesday Lord Eockingham asked an audience
— as everybody did, and must think to offer his services.
But common sense is a fool when it expects fools to act
with common sense. The Marquis behaved sillily and
impertinently, and then wondered he was not pressed to
accept. Great offence was taken at his behaviour ; and yet
there was coolness and prudence enough left to permit
another offer to be made. This condescension did the
business. The weak man took it for weakness, and
thinking that he should force more and more, lost all.
In short, he refused — and then Mr. Conway found himself
at liberty. He and the Duke of Grafton have jointly
undertaken the administration, which was strong enough
before, and now will be fortified by the contempt the
world must have for both factions, who did not know
how to make use of a moment which so many strange
events had put into their hands.
The system, or rather arrangement, is not yet quite
settled ; but when one knows what is trumps, it is not
difficult to play the game. I have not liked an hour so
well as the present since Lord Chatham fell ill. He
remains as he was in place, no minister, and with little
hopes of recovering.
I have been very unfortunate in the death of my Lady
Suffolk *, who was the only sensible friend I had at Straw-
LETTER 1179. — * Henrietta, daugh- brother of the Earl of Berkeley,
ter of Sir Henry Hobart, first married During the life of her first husband
to — Howard, Earl of Suffolk, and she was mistress of King George II,
afterwards to George Berkeley, Woman of the Bedchamber, and
176?] To Sir Horace Mann 125
berry. Though she was seventy-nine, her senses were in
the highest perfection, and her memory wonderful, as it
was as accurate on recent events as on the most distant.
Her hearing has been impaired above forty years, and was
the only defect that prevented her conversation from not
being as agreeable as possible. She had seen, known, and
remembered so much, that I was very seldom not eager to
hear. She was a sincere and unalterable friend, very calm,
judicious, and zealous. Her integrity and goodness had
secured the continuation of respect, and no fallen favourite
had ever experienced neglect less. Her fortune, which had
never been near so great as it was believed, of late years
was so diminished, as to have brought her into great
difficulties. Yet they were not even suspected, for she
had a patience and command of herself that prevented
her ever complaining of either fortune or illness. No
mortal but Lord Chetwynd2 and I were acquainted with
her real situation. I sat with her two hours on Saturday
night, and though I knew she was ill, and found her much
changed, did not suspect her danger so great. The next
evening she was better; and retiring to her chamber to
supper with Lord Chetwynd, she pressed her hand suddenly
to her side, and expired in half an hour. I believe she left
Marble Hill to Lord Buckingham, and what else she had to
Miss Hotham 3 : at least I guess so from what I have heard
her say, for I have not yet been told her will. I think now
of going for a few weeks to Paris : my autumns will not be
near so pleasant, from the loss I have mentioned. Adieu !
afterwards Mistress of the Eobes to great friend of Lord Bolingbroke.
Queen Caroline. She is often men- WalpoU.
tioned by Pope and Swift. Walpole. 3 Henrietta, only child of Sir
Lady Suffolk's first husband was Charles Hotham Thompson, by Doro-
Charles Howard, ninth Earl of thy, only daughter of Sir John Hobart,
Suffolk. first Earl of Buckingham, brother of
2 William, Viscount Chetwynd, a Lady Suffolk. Walpole.
126 To George Montagu [i?67
1180. To THOMAS ASTLE,
DEAB SlB, Arlington Street, Aug. 3, 1767.
I have been so long confined by my brother's illness, that
I have not been able to give myself the pleasure of asking
you to bestow a day on me. I am now at liberty, and if
you have nothing else to do next Sunday, I shall be very
happy if you will dine with me at Strawberry Hill, where
a bed will be at your service. I want to show you what
use I have made of the papers and books with which you
was so kind as to furnish me. It will take up some time to
read it l to you.
I am, Sir,
Your much obliged
and most obedient Servant,
HOB. WALPOLE.
1181. To GEORGE MONTAGU.
Friday, Aug. 7, 1767.
As I am turned knight-errant, and going again in search
of my old fairy *, I will certainly transport your enchanted
casket 2 ; and will endeavour to procure some talisman, that
may secrete it from the eyes of those unheroic harpies, the
officers of the Custom House. You must take [care] to let
me have it before to-morrow se'nnight.
The house at Twickenham, with which you fell in love,
is still unmarried ; but they ask 1301. a year for it. If they
asked 130,000?. for it, perhaps my Lord Clive might snap it
LETTER 1180. — Not in C. ; now LKTTKE 1181. — 1 Mrno. dn Def-
first printed from original in posses- fond,
sion of Mr. Frederick Barker. 2 A silver casket sent by Montagu
1 Probably the Historic Doubts on to his friend Mme. Roland, of
Richard III, finished by Horace Rheims.
Walpole at this time.
1767] To Sir Horace Mann 127
up ; but that not being the case, I don't doubt but it will
fall, and I natter myself that you and it may meet at last
upon reasonable terms.
That of General Trapaud is to be had at 501. a year, but
with a fine on entrance of 500i!. As I propose to return by
the beginning of October, perhaps I may see you, and then
you may review both. Since the loss of poor Lady Suffolk,
I am more desirous than ever of having you in my neigh-
bourhood, as I have not a rational acquaintance there left.
Adieu !
Yours ever,
H.W.
1182. To SIE HORACE MANN.
Arlington Street, Aug. 18, 1767.
IT is odd to take leave because we are coming nearer to
one another, but I remember the last time I was at Paris
how difficult it was for you to get my letters thence ; and
therefore as I shall not stay above a month or six weeks
at most, I do not know whether I shall attempt to write
to you. I can have little or nothing material to tell you.
Your best way, if you have anything to say, will be to
direct your letters to England, whence I shall receive them
safely in four days.
Everything is settled here ; Lord Bristol has given up
Ireland, content with fourteen or fifteen thousand pounds,
with having made his brother J a bishop, and his brother-in-
law, Phipps2, an Irish baron, and not willing to expose
himself to the torrents of abuse that were prepared for him.
LETTER 1182. — l Frederick, after- Bishop of Derry, 1768-1803 ; d.
wards Earl of Bristol Walpole. — 1803.
Third son of John Hervey, Baron a Created Lord Mulgrave; he
Hervey of Ickworth ; succeeded his married Lepelle, eldest daughter of
brother as fourth Earl of Bristol, John, Lord Hervey. Walpole,
1779; Bishop of Cloyne, 1767-68;
128 To Sir Horace Mann [i?67
I should not say content, for he already seems to sigh after
his robes and guards. Lord Townshend3 is overjoyed to
succeed him, and has ceded the Lieutenancy of the Ordnance
to Mr. Conway, and takes Lady Ailesbury's brother, Lord
Frederick Campbell, for his secretary. I do not know how
the Irish will relish a Scot. Lord Townshend will impose
upon them at first, as he has on the world ; will please
them by a joviality, and then grow sullen and quarrel with
them. His brother Charles remains Chancellor of the
Exchequer, will impose on nobody, though he will try to
impose on everybody ; will please, offend, lower his character,
if possible, but will neither be out of humour himself nor
let anybody else be so. Lord Kockingham will declare
against opposition, and will oppose ; and the Duke of New-
castle, and their disgusts, will reconcile Lord Kockingham
and the Bedfords. The latter will be violent, and George
Grenville damp their fire by talking them to death, in order
to blow it up. Lord Temple will call himself head of the
opposition, and will only do all the dirty work of it.
The Duke of York, we are told, has succeeded very well
at Paris. I shall know more certainly in a few days. It is
undoubted that that court has taken great pains to honour
and please him.
It is not from any hurry that I finish my letter so soon ;
but politics are subsided, and the town is a desert. I am
here preparing for my journey, and have come home these
two nights at ten o'clock, from having nowhere to go. It
will be different at Paris, where one does not begin to go
till nine. You will think me a strange man to leave
England when I had just fixed everything here to my mind ;
but I hate politics, and am glad to pass a month without
hearing of them. Nature, that gave me a statesman's head,
forgot to give me ambition or interestedness ; and, if I had
3 George, Viscount Townshend. Walpole.
176?] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 129
never been contradicted, I should have been as trifling as
a king. Adieu !
1183. To THE HON. HENRY SEYMOUE CONWAY.
Paris, Wednesday, Sept. 9, 1767.
I RECEIVED your long, kind, and melancholy letter a few
hours after the post was gone out, or I had told you sooner
how infinitely I pity you and the Duke of Grafton ; I know
what both must feel ; though abstractedly from good nature,
you are not more concerned in the unfortunate accident,
than in one that happens in any part of the globe *. You
could not prevent what you neither knew nor could foresee.
One is not to blame for building a house, that may be
neglected, fall, and crush a family an hundred years hence.
Last night, by Lord Rochford's2 courier, we heard of
Charles Townshend's death 3 ; for which, indeed, your letter
had prepared me. As a man of incomparable parts, and
most entertaining to a spectator, I regret his death. His
good humour prevented one from hating him, and his levity
from loving him ; but, in a political light, I own I cannot
look upon it as a misfortune. His treachery alarmed me,
and I apprehended everything from it. It was not advisable
to throw him into the arms of the opposition. His death
avoids both kinds of mischief. I take for granted you will
have Lord North for Chancellor of the Exchequer 4. He is
LETTER 1183. — Incomplete in C. ; possible care to be immediately taken
now printed from original in posses- of the man, and when he arrived in
sion of Earl Waldegrave. town sent Mr. Adair, Mr. Hawkins,
1 ' Tuesday, Sept. 1. As the Duke and Mr. Gataker to his assistance ;
of Grafton and Mr. Secretary Conway but the wound soon turned to a
were returning from Camden Place mortification, and the man is since
in Kent, a man of seventy, much in- dead.' (Oent. Mag. 1767, p. 474.)
toxicated with liquor, rolled against 2 Ambassador at Paris.
the wheel of their curricle, which s He died on Sept. 4, 1767.
threw him down and very much * Lord North succeeded Town-
hurt his leg. His Grace ordered all shend in that office.
VVALPOLE. VII
130 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Gonway [i767
very inferior to Charles in parts ; but what he wants in
those will be supplied by firmness and spirit.
With regard to my brother, I should apprehend nothing,
were he like other men ; but I shall not be astonished, if
he throws his life away ; and I have seen so much of the
precariousness of it lately, that I am prepared for the event,
if it shall happen.
I will say nothing about Mr. Harris 5 ; he is an old man,
and his death will be natural. For Lord Chatham, he is
really or intentionally mad6, — but I still doubt which of
the two. T. Walpole has writ to his brother here, that the
day before Lord Chatham set out for Pynsent, he executed
a letter of attorney, with full powers to his wife, and the
moment it was signed he began singing. This comes from
Nuthall 7.
You may depend upon it I shall only stay here to the
end of the month ; but if you should want me sooner, I will
set out at a moment's warning, on your sending me a line
by Lord Kochford's courier. This goes by Lady Mary Coke 8,
who sets out to-morrow morning early, on the notice of
Mr. Townshend's death, or she would have stayed ten days
longer. I sent you a letter by a Mr. Fletcher, but I fear he
did not go away till the day before yesterday.
I am just come from dining en famitte with the Due de
Choiseul : he was very civil — but much more civil to
Mr. Wood 9, who dined there too. I forgive this gratitude
to the peacemakers.
5 General Conway's brother-in- having been shot by a highwayman
law. He died on Oct. 7, 1 767. on Hounslow Heath.
6 From If ay 1767, till October 8 Lady Mary Coke was related to
1768, Chatham's mind was deranged. Charles Townshend through his
He was relieved by a severe attack marriage to her eldest sister, recently
of gout. created Baroness Greenwich.
7 Thomas Nuthall, Solicitor to the " Eobert Wood, Under Secretary
Treasury, the intimate friend and of State at the time of the signature
legal adviser of Lord Chatham. He of the Peace of Paris.
di3d in 1775, a few hours after
176?] To Lady Mary Coke 131
I must finish ; for I am going to Lady Mary, and then
return to sup with the Duchess de Choiseul, who is not
civiller to anybody than to me. Adieu ! Yours ever.
1184. To LADY MARY COKE.
Paris, Sept. 20th, 1767.
I AM excessively thankful, dear Madam, for your most
obliging compliance with my request when you was in so
melancholy a situation. I could only wish the letter had
been dated a few days later, that I might be sure you have
not suffered by your hurry, fatigue, and distress. I heartily
grieve for all Mr. Townshend's family, especially your sister
and his mother, the last of whom I think the least likely to
get over so terrible a blow, considering her state of health.
I beg, when it is proper, you will say something for me to
Lady Dalkeith, and a great deal to poor Lady Townshend,
if you see her. I think it too early to write; but I will
wait on her as soon as I return, which will be in a fortnight
at latest. I am very glad your Ladyship's passage was
more favourable than Lady Mary Chabot's, who was twenty-
three hours at sea, and in the utmost danger. A Dutch
vessel was lost very near them.
Poor Mons. de Guerchy expired on Thursday last. There
is a house of as great calamity as the one you attend !
Nothing else has happened here since you left us, nor
indeed, I think, ever does, except deaths, marriages, and
promotions. To my great joy, the Prince of Conti is gone
to L'Isle Adam with all his strolling court, and I have not
once seen him. I dined with Lady Eochford at the
Duchesse d'Aiguillon's on Wednesday last. The views are
fine, excepting the want of verdure, and the garden, like all
their gardens, seems to be in no keeping. On Friday we
dined at Mr. Wood's at Meudon, where the prospect is
K 2
132 To Sir Horace Mann [1767
much finer, but his house is a perfect ruin, like an old
banqueting house at the end of an old-fashioned garden.
The Duke of York has had a violent fever 1 at Monaco,
but I think is reckoned out of danger. The Prince has paid
him great attention ; so great, that he has put off a journey
to the Due de Choiseul's at Chanteloup2. What can a
Frenchman do more ?
Lord March and George Selwyn arrived this morning,
and I expect them here every minute. Lord Algernon
Percy is here too.
As I may set out sooner than I have mentioned, I do not
know, Madam, whether you will trust me with any com-
missions. But my acquaintance here is so established, both
with friends and shops, that I can easily get anything
executed after my return to England.
Forgive me, dear Lady Mary, if I conclude this letter of
scraps. I can tell you nothing from hence worth writing.
Suppers are all the events, and as you know, seldom
lively.
Your most faithful
and devoted humble servant,
HOE. WALPOLE.
1185. To SIR HORACE MANN.
Paris, Sept. 27, 1767.
SINCE you insist upon my writing from hence, I will ;
I intended to defer it a few days longer, as I shall set out on
my return this day se'nnight.
Within the five weeks of my being here, there have
happened three deaths, which certainly nobody expected
LETTKR1184. — NotinC. ; reprinted on Sept. 17, 1767.
from Letters and Journals of Lady 2 The country seat of the Due de
Mary Coke, voL iii. pp. xxii-xxiii. Choiseul, near Poissy.
1 The Duke of York died at Monaco
176?] To Sir Horace Mann 133
six weeks ago. Yet, though the persons were all consider-
able, their loss will make little impression on the state of
any affairs.
Monsieur de Guerchy returned from his embassy with us
about a month before my arrival. He had been out of
order some time, and had taken waters, yet seeing him so
often I had perceived no change, till I was made to remark
it, and then I did not think it considerable. On my arrival,
I was shocked at the precipitate alteration. He was
emaciated, yellow, and scarcely able to support himself.
A fever came on in ten days, mortification ensued, and
carried him off. It is said that he had concealed and tam-
pered indiscreetly with an old complaint, acquired before
his marriage. This was his radical death ; I doubt, vexation
and disappointment fermented the wound. Instead of the
duchy he hoped, his reception was freezing. He was a
frank, gallant gentleman ; universally beloved with us ;
hated I believe by nobody, and by no means inferior in
understanding to many that affected to despise his abilities.
But our comet is set too ! Charles Townshend is dead.
All those parts and fire are extinguished ; those volatile
salts are evaporated ; that first eloquence of the world is
dumb ! that duplicity is fixed, that cowardice terminated
heroically. He joked on death as naturally as he used to
do on the living, and not with the affectation of philo-
sophers, who wind up their works with sayings which they
hope to have remembered. With a robust person he had
always a menacing constitution. He had had a fever the
whole summer, recovered as it was thought, relapsed, was
neglected, and it turned to an incurable putrid fever.
The opposition expected that the loss of this essential
pin would loosen the whole frame ; but it had been hard,
if both his life and death were to be pernicious to the
administration. He had engaged to betray the latter to the
134: To Sir Horace Mann [l767
former, as I knew early, and as Lord Mansfield has since
declared. I therefore could not think the loss of him a mis-
fortune. His seals were immediately offered to Lord North,
who declined them. The opposition rejoiced ; but they
ought to have been better acquainted with one educated in
their own school. Lord North has since accepted the seals —
and the reversion of his father's pension.
While that eccentric genius, Charles Townshend, whom
no system could contain, is whirled out of existence, our
more artificial meteor, Lord Chatham, seems to be wheeling
back to the sphere of business — at least his health is declared
to be re-established ; but he has lost his adorers, the mob,
and I doubt the wise men will not travel after his light.
You, my dear Sir, will be most concerned for the poor
Duke of York, who has ended his silly, good-humoured,
troublesome career, in a piteous manner. He had come to
the camp at Compiegne, without his brother's approbation,
but had been received here not only with every proper
mark of distinction, but with the utmost kindness. He
had succeeded, too, was attentive, civil, obliging, lively,
pleased, and very happy in his replies. Charmed with a
court so lively in comparison of the monastic scene at
home, he had promised to return for Fontainebleau, and
then scampered away as fast as he could ride or drive all
round the south of France, intending to visit a lady at
Genoa, that he was in love with, whenever he had a minute's
time. The Due de Villars * gave him a ball at his country-
house, between Aix and Marseilles ; the Duke of York
danced at it all night as hard as if it made part of his road,
and then in a violent sweat, and without changing his linen,
got into his postchaise. At Marseilles the scene changed.
He arrived in a fever, and found among his letters, which
LETTER 1185. — * Honor<5 Annand (1702-1770), Due de Villars, Governor
of Provence.
1767] To Sir Horace Mann 135
he had ordered to meet him there, one from the King his
brother, forbidding him to go to Compiegne, by the advice
of the Hereditary Prince. He was struck with this letter,
which he had ignorantly disobeyed, and by the same
ignorance had not answered. He proceeded, however, on
his journey, but grew so ill that his gentlemen carried him
to Monaco, where he arrived the third, and languished with
great suffering until the seventeenth. He behaved with
the most perfect tranquillity and courage, made a short will,
and the day before he died dictated to Colonel St. John £
a letter to the King, in which he begged his forgiveness for
every instance in which he had offended him, and entreated
his favour to his servants. He would have particularly
recommended St. John, but the young man said hand-
somely, 'Sir, if the letter was written by your Eoyal
Highness yourself, it would be most kind to me ; but
I cannot name myself.' The Prince of Monaco, who
happened to be on the spot, was unbounded in his atten-
tions to him, both of care and honours ; and visited him
every hour till the Duke grew too weak to see him. Two
days before he died the Duke sent for the Prince, and
thanked him. The Prince burst into tears and could not
speak, and retiring, begged the Duke's officers to prevent his
being sent for again, for the shock was too great. They
made as magnificent a coffin and pall for him as the time
and place would admit, and in the evening of the 17th the
body was embarked on board an English ship, which
received the corpse with military honours, the cannon of
the town saluting it with the same discharge as is paid to
a marshal of France. St. John and Morrison embarked
with the body, and Colonel Wrottesley3 passed through
' Henry, brother of Frederick, 3 Afterwards Sir John Wrottesley,
Viscount Bolingbroke, and Groom another of the Doke of York's Grooms
of the Bedchamber to Edward, Duke of the Bedchamber. Walpole.
of York. Walpole,
136 To Sir Horace Mann [i767
here with the news. The poor lad was in tears the whole
time he stayed.
I shall beg Madame de Barbantane to trouble herself
with this letter ; I must ask this favour by a note, for I do
not visit her ; during my last journey I once or twice
supped in company with her, but without much acquaint-
ance. She is now in a convent with Mademoiselle 4, the Duke
of Orleans' daughter ; and Madame de Boufflers is at L'Isle
Adam, and will not return to Paris before I am set out.
Lord Holland is expected here at the beginning of
October. I have no doubt of his obtaining his earldom,
but it will not be given before the end of next session.
It is true I believe that Lord Carlisle B, who is now here,
will receive the green riband from the hands of the King
of Sardinia. If Lord Cowper goes to England, he may
undoubtedly secure the promise of the next ; and Lord
Warwick is in a bad state of health ; but they never give
green ribands to more than two English at a time. I am
sorry that being at Florence should be made a reason
against bestowing ribands — I trust it will not remain so.
You tell me of the French playing at whisk ; why, I
found it established when I was last here. I told them
they were very good to imitate us in anything, but that
they had adopted the two dullest things we have, whisk
and Kichardson's novels.
So you and the Pope are going to have the Emperor 6 !
Times are a little altered ; no Guelphs and Ghibellines
now. I do not think the Caesar of the day will hold his
Holiness's stirrup while he mounts his palfrey. Adieu !
* Louise Marie Therese Bathilde, sioner to treat with America, 1778 ;
Mdlle. d'Orleans (d. 1822) ; m. (1770) President of the Board of Trade,
Jean Joseph Henri, Due de Bourbon- 1779; Viceroy of Ireland, 1780-82 ;
Cond6. Lord Steward of the Household,
8 Frederick Howard (1748-1825), 1782-83; Privy Seal, April -Dec.
fifth Earl of Carlisle ; Treasurer of 1783.
the Household, 1777-79 ; Commis- 6 Joseph II visited Italy ia 1769.
1767] To George Augusts Selwyn 137
1186. To GEOBGE MONTAGU.
Arlington Street, Oct. 18, 1767.
I ARRIVED last night at eleven o'clock, and found a letter
from you, which gave me so much pleasure, that I must
write you a line, though I am hurried to death. You
cannot imagine how rejoiced I am that Lord North drags
you to light again ] ; it is a satisfaction I little expected.
When do you come? I am impatient. I long to know
your projects.
I had a dreadful passage of eight hours, was drowned,
though not shipwrecked, and was sick to death. I have
been six times at sea before, and never suffered the least,
which makes the mortification the greater : but as Hercules
was not more robust than I, though with an air so little
herculean, I have not so much as caught cold, though
I was wet to the skin with the rain, had my lap full of
waves, was washed from head to foot in the boat at ten
o'clock at night, and stepped into the sea up to my knees.
Qu'avois-je a faire dans cette galere ? In truth, it is a little late
to be seeking adventures ! Adieu ! I must finish, but I am
excessively happy with what you have told me.
Yours ever,
H. W.
1187. To GEOEGE AUGUSTUS SELWYN.
Arlington Street, Oct. 16, 1767.
THANK you ; I am as well as anybody can be that has
been drowned from above and below, that was sick to
LETTER 1186. — 1 Lord North, Chancellor of the Exchequer, had appointed
Montagu his secretary.
138 To George Augustus Selwyn [1767
death for eight hours, with the additional mortification of
finding myself not invulnerable. In short, I had every
affliction from my passage, except in not catching cold ; so
that on that side I am still first cousin to Hercules.
I find London as empty as possible, and politics quite
asleep, — I mean, in town. In the counties they are all
mad about elections. The Duke of Portland, they say,
carried thirty thousand pounds to Carlisle, and it is all gone
already. Lord Clive is going before his money, and not
likely to live three months.
Lady Bolingbroke has declared she will come into waiting
on Sunday se'nnight ; but, as the Queen is likely to be
brought to bed before that time, this may be only a bravado.
The report is, that she intends to acknowledge all my Lord
can desire1.
I found Lord Holland most remarkably mended in his
health. Lady Holland has set out to-day, and he follows
her to-morrow. I beg you will tell the Marquise de Broglie
(whom you will see at the President's) that Lord Holland
carries her a box of pimpernel seed, and will leave it at
Mons. Panchaud's, whither she must send for it. I hope
you will be so good as not forget this ; nor another little
commission, which is, to ask Madame Geofirin where Mons.
Guibert, the King's carver, lives, and then to send him
a guinea, for a drawing he made for me, which I will deduct
from the lottery tickets which I have bought for you, at
twelve pounds seventeen and sixpence apiece. The numbers
are 17574, on which I have written your name and Madame
de Bentheim's, and 26442, on which I have written Wiart's.
I have twice called on my Lady Townshend, but missed
her ; I am now going to her by appointment.
Pray tell Lord Carlisle that I delivered his letters and
LETTER 1187. — J Lord Bolingbroke 10, 1768. She married Topharu
was divorced from his wife on March Beauclerk two days later.
176?] To the Duchesse de Choiseul 139
parcels. Say a great deal for me to Madame du Deffand
and Lord March, who I need not say are what I left best at
Paris. Do not stay for more hurricanes and bad weather,
but come away the first fine day. Adieu !
Yours ever,
H. W.
A Monsieur, Monsieur Selwyn,
a THotel de Due de York,
Rue Jacob, Fauxbourg St. Germain, a Paris.
1188. To THE DUCHESSE DE CHOISEUL.
Ce 16 Octobre 1767.
Voici, chere Grand'maman *, le numero de votre billet de
loterie, c'est 17138. J'y ai ecrit votre nom et je vous en
dois six francs de reste. Ah que je souhaite que cela soit le
gros lot ! Non pas pour vous, chere Grand'maman, car vous
n'aimez pas 1'argent, mais pour tous ceux que vous rendrez
heureux. Ne voulez-vous pas me mander comment va
votre sante ? Montez-vous a cheval ? Dormez-vous ? Vous
menagez-vous ? Ou bien allez-vous vous tuer? Pr^ferez-
vous toujours les devoirs et meme la politesse a la vie ? Eh,
mon Dieu ! pour qui vous assujettissez-vous a cette con-
trainte ? Pour des courtisans, pour des femmes qui ne vous
ressemblent point, et oubliez que vous avez des amis qui
s'interessent a votre sante, que vous etes la grand'maman
de tous les pauvres, et que le Koi a des sujets qui sont
honnetes gens et a qui vous devez 1'exemple et la protection.
Je ne veux pas demander de vos nouvelles a ma pauvre
femme 8, car veritablement la tete lui tourne. Elle a si
LETTKR 1 188. — Not in C. ; now first ' grand'maman ' in imitation of Mme.
printed from copy (in the hand- du Deffand. The actual grand-
writing of Wiart, secretary of Mme. mother of Mme. du Deffand was
du Deffand) in possession of Mr. W. K. a Duchesse de Choiseul.
Parker-Jervis. 2 Madame du Deffand.
1 Walpole called Mme. de Choiseul
140 To the Eev. William Cole [i?67
horriblement peur que vous ne devinssiez serieusement
malade, qu'elle ne fera que me communiquer ses agitations.
C'est au bon Abbe3 a qui je m'adresse, et qui je supplie de
me dire la v6rit6.
Ma Grand'niaman, vous m'avez si bien persuade que vous
avez la bont6 de vous int6resser a moi que je ne crois
vous importuner en vous parlant de oe qui me regarde.
J'ai eu un bien mauvais passage, mais je me porte bien, et
on veut m£me que je sois engraiss6, mais je crois que ces
gens-la me regardent a travers leurs lunettes comme
1'Ambassadeur de Naples quand il croyait ses jambes si
prodigieusement enflees.
Voila, chere Grand'maman, comme j'ai perdu la timidite.
Mais le veritable respect, la plus parfaite reconnaissance,
voici ce que je ne perdrais jamais. Conservez-nous vos
bontes, a moi et a ma petite femme, et donnez-nous des
oncles et des tantes. Je vous jure que nous n'en serons
jamais jaloux, encore ne vous seront-ils pas plus attaches
que votre tres a£fectionn6 petit-fils,
HORACE WALPOLE.
1189. To THE EEV. WILLIAM COLE.
DEAR SlB, Arlington Street, Oct. 24, 1767.
It is an age since we have had any correspondence. My
long and dangerous illness last year, with my journey to
Bath : my long attendance in Parliament all winter, spring,
and to the beginning of summer ; and my journey to France
since, from whence I returned but last week, prevented my
asking the pleasure of seeing you at Strawberry Hill.
I wish to hear that you have enjoyed your health, and
shall be glad of any news of you. The season is too late,
3 The Abbe Barthelemy, who lived with the Due and Duchesse de
Choiseul.
1767] To Sir Horace Mann 141
and the Parliament too near opening, for me to propose
a winter journey to you. If you should happen to think at
all of London, I trust you would do me the favour to call
on me. In short, this is only a letter of inquiry after you,
and to show you that I am always most truly yours;
HOK. WALPOLE.
1190. To SIR HOEACE MANN.
Strawberry Hill, Oct. 29, 1767.
I HAVE been returned from Paris above a fortnight, but
I found everything here so profoundly quiet that all the
news of England would not furnish a paragraph. The
ministers are firmly seated, and opposition scarce barks ; at
least, keeps its throat for the opening of Parliament. Lord
Chatham is given out to be much better, and will, we are
told, reappear upon the stage. The rage of elections is so
great, and so enormously expensive, that I should not think
the session would be much attended. There is no popular
cry in the counties, or, if any, it is against general warrants,
and the authors of them.
Mr. Conway has acted nobly, and refused the emoluments
of Secretary of State, which amount to above five thousand
pounds a year, contenting himself with the profits of
Lieutenant-General of the Ordnance, which do not exceed
eleven hundred, and waiting for a regiment. This modera-
tion is ill matter for an opposition.
Did you receive my letter from Paris, in which I talked
to you of the Duke of York's death ? I should be sorry it
miscarried ; the body is not yet arrived.
I found your brother Ned just recovered out of a very
dangerous pleurisy. Mr. Foote is not quite re-established,
and is forced to tread with great caution.
General Pulteney is dead, having owned himself worth
142 To Sir Horace Mann [1767
a million, the fruits of his brother's virtues 1 1 He has left
an hundred and fifty thousand pounds to Lord Darlington 2,
and three hundred a year to each of his two brothers 8 ; four
hundred a year only to Colman, Lady Bath's nephew, whom
Lord Bath had recommended to him for the Bradford estate,
but the old General was angry with Colman, for having
entered into the management of the theatre in Covent
Garden ; and had told him he would not leave his estate
to an actor. All the vast rest, except a few very trifling
legacies, he leaves to his cousin Mrs. Pulteney *, a very
worthy woman, who had risked all by marrying one
Johnstone, the third son of a poor Scot, but who is an
orator at the India House, and likely to make a figure now
in what house he pleases. She has one daughter8, and is
with child, but is fat, and not young. If she dies without
children, the whole goes to Lord Darlington ; but I think
Mr. Johnstone Pulteney will try every method to be a Nabob
before that happens. The real Nabob, Lord Clive, is
reckoned in a very precarious state of health. Lord Holland
is set out for Nice, much recovered before he went. Well !
I have exhausted the mines of both Indies, and have
nothing more to tell you, nor shall have probably before
the Parliament meets. Adieu !
P.S. Oh, your poor young Queen of Naples ', who has
LETTER 1 1 90. — ] William Pulteney, who afterwards succeeded his brother
Earl of Bath. Walpole. as fifth Baronet, of WesterhalL
2 Henry Vane, second Earl of 6 Henrietta Laura Pulteney, cr.
Darlington, whose grandmother, Baroness Bath in 1792, and Countess
the Duchess of Cleveland, was a of Bath in 1803 ; m. (1794) Sir James
Pulteney, and aunt of Lord Bath. Murray, Baronet, who assumed the
Walpole. name of Pulteney ; d. 1808.
s Hon. Frederick and Hon. Eaby 6 Maria Josepha, Archduchess of
Vane. Austria, daughter of the Empress
4 Frances, daughter of Daniel Maria Theresa. She was married
Pulteney, and wife of William John- to the King of Naples by proxy in
stone, who took the name of Pulteney August 1767, but died on the day
in addition to that of Johnstone, and appointed for her journey to Italy.
1767] To Sir Horace Mann 143
got the small-pox, and will lose her beauty, if not her life !
How much stronger superstition and prejudice are than
maternal love, when all these deaths cannot open the
Empress Queen's eyes in favour of inoculation ! But she
has escaped herself, and that will close them faster than
ever.
November 1st.
I receive your letter of October 1 7. Do you mean that
your second letter to Paris was to me ? Or to Mr. Hoare or
to Mr. Hume, for I cannot read the name distinctly.
I must contradict much of what I have been writing : the
Duke of York's body is arrived, and your young Queen
is dead. You gave the former very good advice. He
would not have taken it, for I believe one seldom acts in
health as one wishes or intends to do when one is at the
point of death. The letter was not, as I told you, addressed
to the King, but to the Duke of Gloucester, to be shown to
him. As I am making all sorts of amendes honorables,
I must do justice to Lord North, who has no pension, as I
heard at Paris.
Thank you for the bill of lading and what it imports ;
I had not received the former.
I wonder all the Princes of Europe are not frightened
into their wits — why, they die every day ! and might avoid
it, most of them, by being inoculated. Mr. Button would
insure them at twelve-pence a head. He inoculates whole
counties, and it does not cause the least interruption to
their business. They work in the fields, or go up to their
middles in water, as usual. It is silly to die of such an
old-fashioned distemper !
Monday, 3rd.
I have this moment received yours from Madame de
Barbantane ; but I have no time to answer it, only to tell
you that I did receive your letter for Lord Hilsborough,
144 To the Rev. Thomas Warton [1767
and probably the bill of lading, but forgot it in my hurry
going to Paris.
The Queen was brought to bed yesterday, of a fourth
Prince 7 ! Good night ! I have scarce time to save the post.
1191. To THE REV. THOMAS WAETON.
SIR, Strawberry Hill, Oct. 30, 1767.
I shall be very thankful for a transcript of the most
material passages in Mr. Beale's1 pocket-book, and of
Hollar's letters, if you will be so good as to employ any
person to transcribe them, and let me know the expense
when done. It is unlucky with regard to the former, that
Mrs. Beale's article is printed off, and several other subse-
quent sheets, for the second edition. And I must not
expect that so trifling a work should go any farther. The
sight of the pocket-book will, however, gratify my own
curiosity, though I am much ashamed to give you so much
trouble, Sir. You will permit me, I hope, in return,
though a small one for so many favours, to send you a
most singular book, of which I have lately been permitted
to print two hundred copies (half only indeed for myself).
It is the Life of the famous Lord Herbert of Cherbury,
written by himself. You will not find him unworthy of
keeping company with those paladins, of whom you have
made such charming use in your notes on Spenser. Pray
let me know how I shall convey it to you.
I am, &c.
7 Prince Edward (1767-1820), cr. series in which Beale kept notes
Dnke of Kent in 1799 ; the father of of his own affairs and those of his
Queen Victoria. wife Mary (1682-1697), daughter of
LETTER 1191. — 1 Charles Beale, of Bev. J. Cradock, Vicar of Walton-on-
Walton, in Buckinghamshire. He Thames, and one of the best-known
held a post under the Board of Green female portrait painters of her day.
Cloth, and was interested in chemis- An account of Mrs. Beale and some
try and in the manufacture of artists' transcripts from her husband's
colours. The pocket-book mentioned pocket-books are given in the Anec-
by Walpole is probably one of a dotes of Painting.
1767] To the Hon. Thomas Walpole 145
1192. To GEOEGE MONTAGU.
Strawberry Hill, Sunday, Nov. 1, 1767.
THE house is taken that you wot of, but I believe you
may have General Trapaud's for fifty pounds a year, and
a fine of two hundred and fifty, which is less by half, look
you, than you was told at first. A jury of matrons, com-
posed of Lady Frances *, my Dame Bramston, Lady
Pembroke, and Lady Carberry2, and the merry Catholic
Lady Brown, have sat upon it, and decide that you should
take it. But you must come and treat in person, and may
hold the congress here. I hear Lord Guilford is much
better, so that the Exchequer will still find you in funds.
You will not dislike to hear, shall you ? that Mr. Conway
does not take the appointments of Secretary of State. If it
grows the fashion to give up above five thousand pounds
a year, this ministry will last for ever, for I do not think
the opposition will struggle for places without salaries. If
my Lord Ligonier does not go to heaven, or Sir Kobert Kich
to the devil, soon, our General will run considerably in
debt — but he had better be too poor than too rich. I would
not have him die like old Pultney, loaded with the spoils of
other families and the crimes of his own. Adieu ! I will
not write to you any more, so you may as well come.
Yours ever,
H. W.
1193. To THE HON. THOMAS WALPOLE.
DEAR SIR, Arlington Street, Nov. 4, 1767.
I am exceedingly obliged to you for the sight of such
curious papers. I heard the transaction last night from
LETTER 1192. — l Lady Frances ter of fifth Viscount Fitzwilliam,
Elliot. See letter to Montagu of and widow of George Evans, second
March 21, 1766. Baron Carbery.
1 Hon. Frances Fitzwilliam, dangh- LETTER 1 193. — Not in 0. ; reprinted
WALPOLE. VII
To the Hon. Thomas Walpole [i?67
Mr. C.1, to whom Lord C.2 had told it with great concern for
you, and from the part he had been forced to take in it.
What can I say of a man who was born to astonish the
world from the greatest things to the least ? What sort of
madness is it ? real ? or affected ? No matter 3. I heartily
pity you, yet do not see how so good-natured a man could
act otherwise, for you are not a Grenville.
Well, Sir, but we shall want this strange man, and may
his singularity be as useful as it has been. You judge very
right about Portugal. Oh ! no, it is not over — there are
more storms too, I think, than one gathering abroad.
Mr. Con way has at last obtained the King's and the Duke
of Grafton's consent to his not taking any part of the profits
of Secretary of State. He is in debt, and may ruin himself:
and yet I own I could not bring myself to dissuade him
from this step.
Lord Orford, I hear, has compromised Ashburton. Palk *
is to come in for this session: and Sullivan and Charles
Boone next Parliament. The latter is well off. I do not
know what he means to do with Castle Eising. By what
I hear of his circumstances, the best thing he can do will be
to sell it : but he seldom does the best thing, even for himself,
which is the only excuse I know for the rest of his behaviour.
The lawyers think he gets ten thousand pounds for himself
by Harris's5 death, and he demands it in ready money directly
— but I do not believe he gets it, except for his life.
from Some Unpublished Letters of He was extremely unwilling to part
Horace Walpole, edited by Sir Spencer with it, but at last did so as a favour
Walpole, pp. 10-12. to Lord and Lady Chatham. (See
1 General Conway. Journal of the Reign of George III, ed.
2 Lord Camden. 1894, vol. iii pp. 31-33.)
8 Lord Chatham, who was at this 4 Robert Palk, of Haldon, near
time in a strange state of health, Exeter, sometime Governor of Ma-
fancied that he might receive benefit dras ; created a Baronet in 1782.
from the air at his former country 5 John Harris, who was the second
place, Hayes. Hayes had been sold husband of Lord Oxford's grand-
to Thomas Walpole, who laid out mother, Mrs. Rolle.
considerable sums of money there.
1767] To Sir Horace Mann 147
I heartily wish Lord Walpole may open his eyes on the
behaviour of his false friends. I do not think the parts of
the opposition at all united. I will take great care of the
paper for you, and am,
Dear Sir,
Your most obliged humble Servant,
HOR. WALPOLE.
1194. To SIR HORACE MANN.
Arlington Street, Dec. 2, 1767.
Ce qui est dijfere, n'est point perdu. Though the Parlia-
ment has been met a week, and I have not opened my pen's
lips, you will have amends made you for your impatience.
We are triumphant beyond the paltry wisdom of calculation.
We do not stoop to the detail of divisions to judge of our
strength. Two oppositions, that tread hard upon the heels
of a majority, are the best secret in the world for composing
a ridiculous minority. In short, Lord Kockingham's and
the Duke of Bedford's parties, who could not have failed to
quarrel if they had come into place together, are determined
at least to have their quarrel, if they cannot have their
places. On the first day, the centurions of the former were
very warm, but having nothing to complain of but the bad
weather and the price of corn, the ministers had very little
trouble. George Grenville, to show he would not support
the Rockinghams, did not speak till the question was passed ;
and then was wonderfully placid. Next day, he and Dowds-
well squabbled for two hours, on their different creeds for
America: the House laughed at both, and the ministers
kept their countenance: but the Bedfords were angry, or
glad to be angry with Grenville. Two days afterwards, the
Duke of Newcastle, who had rather make peace than not
make mischief, scuttled to Bedford House, and tried to
L 2
148 To Sir Horace Mann [1767
unite the two factions, but could scarce obtain to be
heard ; and is gone to whisper anybody that will be
whispered at Bath. However, if he has but three depen-
dents left upon earth, and can make two of them wait in
his antechamber while he affects to be locked up with the
third, he will be satisfied. Lord Temple and Lord Lyttelton
are driving about the town with long speeches, which nobody
cares to hear. The latter is a very beacon, to warn folks
not to come near the party he belongs to, which is always
the wrong. The Rockinghams, who have no reason to be
angry with anybody but themselves, which nobody likes
to be, do not know with whom to be most angry. George
Grenville is distracted that the ministers will not make
America rebel, that he may be minister and cut America's
throat, or have his own throat cut ; and everybody else,
I suppose, will get places as soon as they can. My Lord
Chatham is still at Bath. If all had been quite confusion,
perhaps he might have come forth again — faith ! as all will
be quite peace, I do not know whether he may not still
come. This is the state of our Vesuvius : though the lava
has done running, the grumblings have not entirely ceased.
The Duke of Bedford is to be couched on Saturday for
cataracts in both eyes. This is all our public and private
news, except the divorce of Lord and Lady Bolingbroke,
which is determined ; and by consent of her family, she is
to marry Mr. Beauclerk, the hero of the piece — an affair in
which I suppose you interest yourself no more than I do !
Should anything happen before Friday, I shall have two
days to write it ; if not, as Brutus and Cassius, or some
such persons as you and I, say,
This parting was well made.
Friday, 4th.
Brother Brutus, I do not know a word more. Every-
thing remains quiet in the senate. Adieu !
176?] To Sir Horace Mann 149
1195. To SIE HOEACE MANN.
Arlington Street, Dec. 14, 1767.
I HAVE received your letter of the 21st of November,
just as I was going to write to you. The volumes of
Herculaneum came to me safe three days ago, for which
I give you many thanks.
Your brother's letter gives me much concern. I had
heard accounts of the extravagance of your nephew1, who
is allowed to be very good-natured, but I doubt has not
a strong understanding. When I returned from Paris this
last time, I asked your brother how his nephew went on ?
He said he was a little expensive, but seemed desirous of
softening the matter, instead of being angry, as I should
have expected. I was glad to find him in that humour —
but I see it was so far from being sincere, that he seems to
have seized it as an excuse for giving you a very disagree-
able notice. Poor Gal was always afraid that the love of
his natural children would preponderate, and that makes
me conclude that Gal knew your brother has power over
Linton. I should be exceedingly vexed on your account, if
I did not think your brother's life as good as almost any-
body's of his age. He looks young and healthy, and as he
is very careful of himself, the gout is but a preservative.
For your nephew, my dear Sir, I know what nephews are !
Sad things on which to build the hopes of a family ! Hope
is pleasant — but building distant hopes— oh, what folly ! —
to build on others — excess of folly ! 'Tis the comfort of
growing old, that one sees all this is folly ; so far am
I from calling it disappointment.
I must now prepare you for a new public scene. The
obstinacy of George Grenville, who, on the first day of the
LETTER 1195. — 1 Horace Mann the younger.
To Sir Horace Mann [1767
session, would not act with the Eockingham faction, and
who openly quarrelled with the second, disgusted his own
friends, or gave them a handle for being disgusted. The
Duke of Bedford sent for him, and told him he himself was
weary of opposition, and his friends more so ; and therefore
desired that each squadron might be at liberty to provide for
themselves. Would not one think they were starving?
After this decent declaration, his Grace sent to lay himself
and /MS friends at the Duke of Grafton's feet, begging, as
alms, that they might have some of the first and best places
under the Government. What heart is hard enough to
resist so moving a petition? Well! I believe it will be
granted : it breaks opposition to pieces ; and surely these
good folks will not be formidable, from their characters at
least. This, I think, will be the arrangement: Lord Gower2,
President of the Council — (it is a drunken place by pre-
scription ; Lord Granville had it, and Lord Northington
has). Lord Weymouth3, Secretary of State. I do not
know yet, but probably shall before the post goes out,
whether Lord Shelburne4 will keep America, or go out
angrily, as he certainly is not over-well treated. If he
resigns, Lord Hillsborough will be Secretary for America,
and Lord Sandwich5, Postmaster. Mr. Eigby will take
anything he can get, and better it as soon as he can. The
rest are too insignificant, whether they are taken or wait.
The flower of this whole negotiation is, that it is not six
months since the Duke of Bedford objected to Mr. Conway,
as improper for Leader of the House of Commons, and now
stoops to place his people under him ; nay, they have owned
there is nobody so proper. This is triumph enough, and
2 Lord Gpwer became President of Province in January 1768.
the Council, and held that office * Lord Shelburne did not resign
until 1779. until the following year.
3 Lord Weymouth became Score- 6 Lord Sandwich became Joint
tary of State for the Southern Postmaster-General in Jan. 1768.
1767] To Sir Horace Mann 151
all I care about the matter ; nay, and all I shall say about
it, and more than you must say ; for by the end of the week
I suppose Lord Weymouth will be your master, and there
is none of the set but must think opening a letter is inno-
cence, compared with anything else they have done. You
will not wonder, therefore, if I become more reserved for
the future — at least for some time ; for though the court
will take them, I shrewdly suspect that they do not intend
to keep them long. For my part, I am perfectly indifferent
whether they do or not, as my resolution was taken, when
I declined coming into Parliament again, to have nothing
more to do with politics for the rest of my life ; and I am
not apt to break my resolutions. I cannot, like the Duke
of Newcastle, sail through life with generation after genera-
tion ; and I am sick of the present. I have seen them in
all shapes, and know them thoroughly ; and unless I receive
new provocations from any set, I prefer none to the other.
In truth, I do not know whether the Bedfords are not the
best, as they have not shame enough to be hypocrites.
So your King of Naples 6 is a madman, or an idiot ! and
they set aside his eldest brother on the same pretence, to
make room for him ! Poor North, and poor South ! The
devil at Petersburgh, and a lunatic at Naples! Give me
the Bedlamite: one cannot be angry with Vesuvius for
boiling over one, but one hates to be strangled by Lucifer,
and then hear him lay it on God 7 himself ! Yet, Voltaire
and the French philosophers can find charms in such a
character! Tis a precious world, and one must be mad
too, to do anything but laugh at it. Adieu!
• Ferdinand IV, King of Naples ; on the death of her husband. Wal-
d. 1825. pole.
7 See the manifesto of the Czarina,
152 To the Rev. William Cole [i?67
1196. To THE EEV. WILLIAM COLE.
Strawberry Hill, Dec. 19, 1767.
You are now, I reckon, settled in your new habitation l :
I would not interrupt you in your journey ings, dear Sir,
but am not at all pleased that you are seated so little to
your mind — and yet I think you will stay there ; Cambridge
and Ely are neighbourhoods to your taste ; and if you do
not again shift your quarters, I shall make them and you
a visit : Ely I have never seen. I could have wished that
you had preferred this part of the world, and yet I trust
I shall see you here oftener than I have done of late. This,
to my great satisfaction, is my last session of Parliament, to
which, and to politics, I shall for ever bid adieu !
1 did not go to Paris for my health, though I found the
journey and the sea-sickness, which I had never experienced
before, contributed to it greatly. I have not been so well
for some years as I am at present; and if I continue to
plump up as I do at present, I do not know but by the time
we may meet, whether you may not discover — with a
microscope — that I am really fatter. I went to make a visit
to my dear old blind woman, and to see some things I could
not see in winter.
For the Catholic religion, I think it very consumptive —
with a little patience, if Whitfield, Wesley, my Lady Hunt-
ingdon, and that rogue Madan * live, I do not doubt but we
shall have something very like it here. And yet I had
rather live at the end of a tawdry religion, than at the
beginning, which is always more stern and hypocritic.
LETTIB 1196. — * At Waterbeach, required to do so by the patron, in
near Cambridge. spite of the declaration of the latter
2 Eev. Martin Madan (1726-1790), that the living was given on that
a Methodist. He had been severely condition. Madan attracted great
blamed for advising a friend named attention in 1780 by his Thelypthora,
Haweis not to resign a living when in which he advocated polygamy.
1767] To Sir Horace Mann 153
I shall be very glad to see your laborious work of the
maps: you are indefatigable, I know; I think mapping
would try my patience more than anything.
My Richard tlie Third 3 will go to the press this week, and
you shall have one of the first copies, which I think will be
in about a month, if you will tell me how to convey it:
direct to Arlington Street.
Mr. Gray went to Cambridge yesterday se'nnight ; I wait
for some papers from him for my purpose.
I grieve for your sufferings by the inundation, but you
are not only a hermit, but, what is better, a real philosopher.
Let me hear from you soon.
Yours ever,
H. W.
1197. To SIB HORACE MANN.
Arlington Street, Dec. 25, 1767.
I SEND you these few lines only as a sequel, or confirma-
tion of my last. The treaty is concluded, and Lord Gower
has actually kissed hands as Lord President, in the room of
Lord Northington, who retires on a pension. Lord Shel-
burne keeps the Southern department, but Lord Hilsborough
is Secretary of State for America, and Lord Sandwich is to
be Postmaster. The most material alteration is, that Mr.
Conway will, at the end of next month, quit the Seals,
which he has long wished to do, but will remain Cabinet
Counsellor, and acting minister in the House of Commons :
this the King and the Duke of Grafton both insist on.
Lord Weymouth is to wait till then. Mr. Conway was
desirous of quitting the minute he could, but it was thought
right, that as the Duke of Bedford had objected to him in
the summer, they should be forced to swallow this sub-
* Hittoric Doubts on Richard the Third, by Horace Walpole, published
in February 1768.
154 To Sir Horace Mann [1767
mission of coming in under him — and they have swallowed
it — and nobody doubted but they would. They have
swallowed Lord Shelburne too, to whom they objected
next, when they could not help stooping to Mr. Conway,
but this was likewise denied ; and they have again sub-
mitted. The Duke of Marlborough was to have the Garter,
but to defer it as long as possible, the vacant one was im-
mediately given to the Duke of Cumberland ; and two more
must drop before the Duke of Marlborough can obtain one ;
for this is only the second instance * in my memory, where
a single one was given alone. The Bedfords are to have
some other trifles.
In the moment of projection, we thought this whole
arrangement would blow up. Lord Chatham arrived at
Beading; but he has stopped at Mrs. George Pitt's2 at
Wandsworth Hill, and we hear no more of him.
Well ! I once more breathe at liberty ! I have done with
politics, and in three months shall have done with Parlia-
ments. I do not talk of retiring, for that would be a tie,
and I should want to break it ; but if I know myself at all,
I shall take care how I embark again. It will not be for
want of opportunity, for I think this arrangement will not
hold to July : but I neither guess nor prophesy, especially
not, when there will be any system that will last. How
strange and precipitate our changes are! Two months
ago I doubted whether the numbers and activity of the
opposition might not shake the administration. By the
splitting of the opposition into pieces, and by the treachery
of one of those fragments, the administration is more
shattered than it could have been but by a decisive defeat.
LETTER 1197. — l James, second letter above. WalpoU.
Earl of Waldegrave, received a 2 Penelope Atkins, wife of George
Garter alone, from George II, who Pitt, afterwards Lord Elvers ; a very
gave it him to disappoint a cabal, distant relation of Lord Chatham,
in a moment not unlike that in th« Walpole.
1768] To Sir Horace Mann 155
Truly we politicians see a great way ! Well ! I shall only
laugh at the trade now. I was born in it, and have lived
in it half a century ; I do not admire it, I am overjoyed to
quit it, and shall be very indifferent what happens to the
business. Adieu !
1198. To THOMAS ASTLE.
Jan. 16, 1768.
MR. HUME has told me to-day that you have been so very
kind as to say that Mr. Duane x is possessed of my father's
papers, which we have reckoned so miserable a loss to our
family, and that you thought he would not be averse to let
me have them. I do not know the thing that could make
me so happy as the recovery of them nor which would be
so great an obligation to me. If you would obtain them
for me it would be the highest favour; I venture to ask
this great favour of you, who may judge what a treasure it
must be to a son who adores his father's memory.
1199. To Sra HOEACE MANN.
Strawberry Hill, Jan. 17, 1768.
THIS, I should think, my dear Sir, would be but a short
letter, since I have little or no news to tell you ; for I hope
my good will is no news to you. The moment I saw in
the papers that Sir William Rowley was dead, I desired
Mr. Conway to make every necessary representation of your
claim to a red riband. He spoke to the Duke of Grafton,
who met him halfway, acknowledged your title, and said
that there was nobody he wished more to serve ; and yet
LETTER 1198. — Not in C., presu- l Matthew Dnane (1707-1786), a
mably incomplete ; reprinted from lawyer and collector of coins and
Messrs. Sotheby's sale catalogue of antiquities.
Dec. 23, 1896,
156 To Sir Horace Mann [i768
there are circumstances I do not like. The King has lately
given the late Duke of Cumberland's riband to his second
son ; and I know has said, ' It had already had the effect he
intended it ; it was prodigious the number of considerable
applications he had had since he had thus stamped the order
with dignity.' I do not know whence these applications
are ; but we change hands so often, that I shall not wonder
if red ribands go in part of payment. I am very sorry for
it, but you see I am ready to do more than I promised, and
do not want to be put in mind. I could wish to have got
this for you : I shall now be of little use to you. I have
totally done with politics for ever, and favours are seldom
obtained by people who neither do hurt nor good. Mr.
Conway will resign this week, and Lord Weymouth will
have the Seals. The latter is very good-natured, and,
I think, will not be your enemy. Lord Chatham is said to
have the gout in both feet.
Pho ! I see I have begun my letter on the wrong side of
the paper. Well! no matter. Sir William Kowley has
left six thousand pounds a year — to whom do you think ? —
to his great-grandson. To his son, who had not disobliged
him, he gives but eight hundred a year ; the same to his
grandson ; all the rest to his grandson's heir, and the
savings. It is rather leaving an opportunity to the
Chancery to do a right thing, and set such an absurd
will aside. Do not doubt it. The law makes no bones
of wills. I have heard of a man who begun his will thus :
' This is my will, and I desire the Chancery will not make
another for me.' Oh, but it did. If the Admiral has
left his riband to somebody unborn, I hope the Chancery
will give it to you in the meantime.
We have had most dreadful frost and snow, but they
lasted not quite three weeks. Yet, though the weather is
quite warm, and it has rained several times, there are
1768] To Lord Hailes 157
opposition-lumps of ice lying about the streets, that cannot
be prevailed upon to melt, and take their places in the
kennel. You tell me you have had snow at Florence.
The Duke of Newcastle has been dying1, but is out of
danger. He says he will meddle no more with politics, and
therefore I think I will not declare that I have done with
them, for I am sure he will relapse to them, and I should
hate to be like him.
Well ! I may as well bid you good night, for I have
nothing more to say. If I hear anything to-morrow,
when I return to town, I shall have time enough to
tell you, for my letter will not set out till next day. If
nothing happens, I shall take no notice, but end here.
Tuesday, 19th.
I met Mr. Mackenzie this morning at Princess Amelia's.
He took me aside, and expressed the greatest solicitude
about your riband. I told him what I had just done. He
said he would himself tell the Duke of Grafton the share he
had in it, and how long ago it had been promised to you.
I gave him a thousand thanks, and told him I would this
very evening let you know how much you are obliged to him.
Write him a line, and say I had acquainted you with this
mark of his friendship and remembrance.
1200. To LOUD HAILES.
Strawberry Hill, Jan. 17, 1768.
I WILL begin, Sir, with telling you that I have seen
Mr. Sherriff and his son. The father desired my opinion
on sending his son to Italy. I own I could by no means
advise it. Where a genius is indubitable and has already
made much progress, the study of antique and the works
LETTER 1199. — ' He survived until November 1768.
158 To Lord Hailes [1768
of the great masters may improve a young man extremely,
and open lights to him which he might never discover of
himself: but it is very different sending a young man to
Eome to try whether he has genius or not ; which may be
ascertained with infinitely less trouble and expense at
home. Young Mr. Sherriff has certainly a disposition to
drawing ; but that may not be genius. His misfortune
may have made him embrace it as a resource in his melan-
choly hours. Labouring under the misfortune of deafness,
his friends should consider to what unhappiness they may
expose him. His family have naturally applied to alleviate
his misfortune, and to cultivate the parts they saw in him :
but who, in so long a journey and at such a distance, is to
attend him in the same affectionate manner ? Can he shift
for himself, especially without the language ? who will take
the trouble at Eome of assisting him, instructing him,
pointing out to him what he should study? who will
facilitate the means to him of gaining access to palaces and
churches, and obtain permission for him to work there?
I felt so much for the distresses he must undergo, that
I could not see the benefits to accrue, and those eventual,
as a compensation. Surely, Sir, it were better to place him
here with some painter for a year or two. He does not
seem to me to be grounded enough for such an expedition.
I will beg to know how I may convey my Richard to you,
which will be published to-morrow fortnight. I do not
wonder you could not guess the discovery I have made.
It is one of the most marvellous that ever was made. In
short, it is the original Coronation Roll of Eichard the
Third, by which it appears that very magnificent robes were
ordered for Edward the Fifth, and that he did, or was to
have walked at his uncle's coronation. The most valuable
monument is in the Great Wardrobe. It is not, though
the most extraordinary, the only thing that will surprise
1768] To the Rev. William Cok 159
you in my work. But I will not anticipate what little
amusement you may find there. I am, Sir, &c.
1201. To THE KEY. WILLIAM COLE.
DEAB SIH, Arlington Street, Feb. 1, 1768.
I have waited for the impression of my Richard, to send
you the whole parcel together. This moment I have con-
veyed to Mr. Cartwright a large bundle for you, containing
Bichard the Third, the four volumes of the new edition of
the Anecdotes, and six prints of your relation Tuer. You
will find his head very small : but the original was too
inconsiderable to allow it to be larger. I have sent you no
Patagonians l, for they are out of print, I have only my own
copy, and could not get another. Pray tell me how, or what
you heard of it, and tell me sincerely, for I did not know it
had made any noise.
I shall be much obliged to you for the extract relating
to the Academy of which a Walpole2 was President. I doubt
if he was of our branch, and rather think he was of the
younger and Roman Catholic branch.
Are you reconciled to your new habitation ? Don't you
find it too damp ? and if you do, don't deceive yourself, and
try to surmount it ; but remove immediately. Health is
the most important of all considerations.
Adieu ! dear Sir.
Yours ever,
H. WALPOLE.
L«TT*B 1201.— i An Account of (he » Bichard (1561-1607), son of
Giants lately ditcovered ; in a letter to Christopher Walpole, of Docking and
a Friend in the Country, a political of Anmer Hall, Norfolk ; a Jesuit,
squib by Horace Walpole, published and Rector of the Colleges of Valla-
in August 1766. dolid (1592) and of Seville (1593).
160 To Thomas Gray [1768
1202. To LORD HAILES.
Arlington Street, Feb. 2, 1768.
I HAVE sent to Mr. Cadell my Historic Doubts, Sir, for
you. I hope they may draw forth more materials, which
I shall be very ready either to subscribe to or adopt. In
this view I must beg you, Sir, to look into Speed's History
of England, and in his account of Perkin Warbeck you will
find Bishop Leslie1 often quoted. May I trouble you to
ask, to what work that alludes, and whether in print or
MS. ? Bishop Leslie lived under Queen Elizabeth, and
though he could know nothing of Perkin Warbeck, was yet
near enough to the time to have had much better materials
than we have. May I ask, too, if Perkin Warbeck's pro-
clamation exists anywhere authentically ? You will see in
my book the reason of all these questions.
I am so much hurried with it just now, that you will
excuse my being so brief. I can attribute to nothing but
the curiosity of the subject, the great demand for it ; though
it was sold publicly but yesterday, and twelve hundred and
fifty copies were printed, Dodsley has been with me this
morning to tell me he must prepare another edition directly.
I am, Sir, &c.
1203. To THOMAS GRAY.
Arlington Street, Feb. 18, 1768.
You have sent me a long and very obliging letter, and
yet I am extremely out of humour with you. I saw Poems
by Mr. Gray advertised : I called directly at Dodsley's to
know if this was to be more than a new edition ? He was
LETTER 1202.— l John Leslie (1527- Eittory of Scotland., first published
1596), Bishop of Ross, author of a in 1830.
1768] To Thomas Gray 161
not at home himself, but his foreman told me he thought
there were some new pieces, and notes to the whole. It
was very unkind, not only to go out of town without
mentioning them to me, without showing them to me, but
not to say a word of them in this letter l. Do you think
I am indifferent, or not curious about what you write?
I have ceased to ask you, because you have so long refused
to show me anything. You could not suppose I thought
that you never write. No ; but I concluded you did not
intend, at least yet, to publish what you had written. As you
did intend it, I might have expected a month's preference.
You will do me the justice to own that I had always rather
have seen your writings than have shown you mine ; which
you know are the most hasty trifles in the world, and
which, though I may be fond of the subject when fresh,
I constantly forget in a very short time after they are
published. This would sound like affectation to others, but
will not to you. It would be affected, even to you, to say
I am indifferent to fame. I certainly am not, but I am
indifferent to almost anything I have done to acquire it.
The greater part are mere compilations ; and no wonder
they are, as you say, incorrect, when they are commonly
written with people in the room, as Eichard and the Noble
LETTER 1203. — l ' To your friendly send him an equal weight of poetry
accusation, I am glad I can plead or prose : so since my return hither,
not guilty with a safe conscience. I put up about two ounces of stuff ;
Dodsley told me in the spring that viz. The Fatal Sisters, The Descent
the plates from Mr. Bentley's designs of Odin (of both which you have
were worn out, and he wanted to copies), a bit of something from the
have them copied and reduced to Welsh, and certain little notes,
a smaller scale for a new edition, partly from justice (to acknowledge
I dissuaded him from so silly an ex- the debt, where I had borrowed
pense, and desired he would put in anything), partly from ill-temper,
no ornaments at all. The Long just to tell the gentle reader that
Story was to be totally omitted, as Edward I was not Oliver Cromwell,
its only use (that of explaining the nor Queen Elizabeth the Witch of
prints) was gone : but to supply the Endor. This is literally all ; and
place of it in bulk, lest my works with all this I shall be but a shrimp
should be mistaken for the works of of an author.' Gray to Walpole,
a flea, or a pismire, I promised to Feb. 25, 1768.
WALPOLE. VII
162 To Thomas Gray [1768
Authors were. But I doubt there is a more intrinsic fault
in them ; which is, that I cannot correct them. If I write
tolerably, it must be at once ; I can neither mend nor add.
The articles of Lord Capel 2 and Lord Peterborough, in the
second edition of the Noble Authors, cost me more trouble
than all the rest together : and you may perceive that the
worst part of Richard, in point of ease and style, is what
relates to the papers you gave me on Jane Shore, because
it was tacked on so long afterwards, and when my impetus
was chilled. If some time or other you will take the
trouble of pointing out the inaccuracies of it, I shall be
much obliged to you : at present I shall meddle no more
with it. It has taken its fate : nor did I mean to complain.
I found it was condemned indeed beforehand, which was
what I alluded to. Since publication (as has happened to
me before) the success has gone beyond my expectation.
Not only at Cambridge, but here, there have been people
wise enough to think me too free with the King of Prussia !
A newspaper has talked of my known inveteracy to him.
Truly, I love him as well as I do most kings. The greater
offence is my reflection on Lord Clarendon. It is forgotten
that I had overpraised him before. Pray turn to the new
State Papers, from which, it is said, he composed his
History. You will find they are the papers from which he
did not compose his History. And yet I admire my Lord
Clarendon more than these pretended admirers do. But
I do not intend to justify myself. I can as little satisfy
those who complain that I do not let them know what
really did happen. If this inquiry can ferret out any truth,
I shall be glad. I have picked up a few more circumstances.
I now want to know what Perkin Warbeck's proclamation s
2 Arthur Capel (1604-1649), first letter to Walpole of Feb. 25, 1768 :—
Baron Capel, beheaded a few weeks ' He has preserved no proclamation :
after Charles I. he only puts a short speech into
s Gray writes thus of Leslie in his Perkin's mouth, the substance of
1768] To Thomas Gray 163
was, which Speed in his History says is preserved by Bishop
Leslie. If you look in Speed perhaps you will be able to
assist me.
The Duke of Eichmond and Lord Lyttelton agree with
you, that I have not disculpated Eichard of the murder of
Henry VI. I own to you, it is the crime of which in my
own mind I believe him most guiltless. Had I thought he
committed it, I should never have taken the trouble to
apologize for the rest. I am not at all positive or obstinate
on your other objections, nor know exactly what I believe on
many points of this story. And I am so sincere, that, except
a few notes hereafter, I shall leave the matter to be settled
or discussed by others. As you have written much too little,
I have written a great deal too much, and think only of
finishing the two or three other things I have begun— and
of those, nothing but the last volume of Painters is designed
for the present public. What has one to do when turned
fifty, but really think of finishing ?
I am much obliged and flattered by Mr. Mason's appro-
bation, and particularly by having had almost the same
thought with him. I said, 'People need not be angry at
my excusing Eichard ; I have not diminished their fund of
hatred, I have only transferred it from Eichard to Henry.'
Well, but I have found you close with Mason — No doubt,
cry prating I, something will come out4. — Oh no — leave
us, both of you, to Amdbellas B and Epistles to Ferney 9, that
give Voltaire an account of his own tragedies, to Macarony
fables that are more unintelligible than Pilpay's are in the
original, to Mr. Thornton's7 hurdy-gurdy poetry, and to
which is taken by Speed . . . the whole Pope's Eptetle to Arbvthnot. Walpole.
matter is treated by Leslie very s Amabella, a poem by Edward
concisely and superficially.' Jerningham (1727-1812).
* ' I found him close with Swift — 6 Ferney, an Epistle toM. de Voltaire,
Indeed ?— No doubt, by George Keate (1729-1797).
(Cries prating fialbns) some- 7 Bonnell Thornton (1724-1768),
thing will come oat.' author of a burlesque Ode on St.
M 2
164 To Thomas Gray [1768
Mr. , who has imitated himself worse than any fop in
a magazine would have done. In truth, if you should
abandon us, I could not wonder. — When Garrick's prologues
and epilogues, his own Cyvnons 8 and farces, and the
comedies of the fools that pay court to him, are the delight
of the age, it does not deserve anything better.
Pray read the new Account of Corsica9. What relates
to Paoli10 will amuse you much. There is a deal about
the island and its divisions that one does not care a straw
for. The author, Boswell, is a strange being, and, like
Cambridge, has a rage of knowing anybody that ever was
talked of. He forced himself upon me at Paris in spite
of my teeth and my doors, and I see has given a foolish
account of all he could pick up from me about King
Theodore. He then took an antipathy to me on Kousseau's
account, abused me in the newspapers, and exhorted
Kousseau to do so too : but as he came to see me no more,
I forgave all the rest. I see he now is a little sick of
Kousseau himself; but I hope it will not cure him of his
anger to me. However, his book will, I am sure, entertain you.
I will add but a word or two more. I am criticized for
the expression tinker up in the preface. Is this one of those
that you object to ? I own I think such a low expression,
placed to ridicule an absurd instance of wise folly, very
forcible. Keplace it with an elevated word or phrase, and
to my conception it becomes as flat as possible.
George Sehvyn says I may, if I please, write Historic
Doubts on the present Duke of G. too. Indeed, they would
be doubts, for I know nothing certainly11.
Cecilia's Day, adapted to the Antient 9 Account of Corsica, by James
British Mustek : the Salt Box, the Jew's Boswell (1740-1795).
Harp, the Marrow Bones and Cleavers, 10 Paschal Paoli (1725-1807), leader
the Bum-Strum or Hurdy-Qurdy, &c. of the Corsicans in their struggles
(London, 1763). for independence.
8 Cymon, a Dramatic Romance, pro- u Horace Walpole alludes here to
duced at Drury Lane in 1767. the relations of his niece, the Dowager
of &£
1768]
To the Duchesse de Choiseul 165
Will you be so kind as to look into Leslie De Eebus
Scotorum, and see if Perkin's proclamation is there, and
if there, how authenticated? You will find in Speed my
reason for asking this. I have written in such a hurry,
I believe you will scarce be able to read my letter — and
as I have just been writing French, perhaps the sense may
not be clearer than the writing. Adieu !
Yours ever,
HOB. WALPOLE.
1204. To THE DUCHESSE DE CHOISEUL.
De Londres, ce 23 Fevrier 1768.
AH, Madame, que vous m'avez combl6 de surprise, de
joie et de reconnaissance, et cependant que je suis mecontent !
Votre petite-fille J qui cherche toujours a faire adorer vos
bontes, m'avait annonce, par M. 1'Ambassadeur, le tableau2
qu'il m'apportait, en m'ordonnant de 1'envoyer demander
au moment de son arrivee. Jugez de mon impatience,
Madame, et de ma mortification en apprenant que ce cher
tableau etait depose a Calais. Ce delai augmentait la per-
Countess Waldegrave, with the Duke Parker-Jervis.
of Gloucester, brother of George IU. * Mme. du Deffand, who called
Lady Waldegrave had in fact been herself the grandchild of the
privately married to the Duke on Duchesse.
Sept. 6, 1766, but by the Duke's de- 2 A ' washed drawing ' representing
sire, the marriage was not publicly 'Madame la Marquise du Deffand,
acknowledged until 1772. When and the Duchesse de Choiseul giving
the Duke first distinguished Lady her a doll, which the former, who
Waldegrave by his attentions, Horace was blind, holds out her hands to
Walpole expressed to his niece his receive ; alluding to her calling the
strong disapproval of the connection. Duchesse Grand' maman. Every part
This, and his refusal to meet the of the room is exactly represented,
Duke, caused a breach of Walpole's and Mme. du Deffand most exactly
friendship with Lady Waldegrave like, which the Duchesse is not ; by
until after the public announcement M. de Carmontel, a gentleman be-
of her marriage. longing to the Duke of Orleans, who
LETTER 1204. — Not in C. ; now has done in the same manner most
first printed from copy (in the hand- of the court of Prance.' (Description
writing of Wiart, secretary of Mme. of Strawberry Hitt.)
du Deffand) in possession of Mr. W. B.
166 To the Dwhesse de Choiseul [i?68
suasion oil j'ai ete qu'au moins apres quelques jours (mais
quels jours!) je vous retrouverais exactement comme ma
tres fidele m6moire vous conserve trait pour trait.
Enfin, ce jour tant desir6 arrive. Je dechire le ballot,
plutot que je ne 1'ouvre ! Oh ! ma chere Grand'maman, je
tombe des nues; je n'aurais pas et6 plus petrifi6 en y
trouvant ma veritable al'eule ; il n'a pas la moindre ressem-
blance. Non, non, il n'a que le souvenir da la grace que
vous avez bien voulu me faire qui reste et qui m'empeche
de me desesperer; grace si inattendue, et que jamais je
n'aurais eu la presomption de demander. M. de Carmontel
oti a-t-il pris que vous avez une figure comme le reste du
monde ? Je crois que s'il avait a peindre votre ame il ne
la peindrait pas plus belle que celle de Marc-Aurele. Que
lui avez-vous fait, Madame, vous qui n'avez fait de mal
a personne? Et de ce que vous ne vous souciez pas de
votre figure, lui est-il permis de n'y prendre pas garde?
J'aurais beau faire, si nous etions aux temps de la chevalerie,
de promener ce joli portrait par tous les pays de la terre,
pour faire avouer que vous etes la plus parfaite personne
du monde. Le premier g6ant de rencontre se moquerait
de moi, et ce ne serait qu'apres 1'avoir vaincu et envoye
vous baiser la main a Paris, qu'il conviendrait que j'eusse
raison.
Mr. le Due de Bedford qui 6tait au comble de sa joie
d'avoir regagn6 la vue quand je lui ai annonc6 le charmant
portrait qui devait m'arriver, croira qu'on ne lui a pas
fait 1'operation tout de bon. Et pour votre amie Milady
Charlotte8, il faudra absolument, a cette heure, que votre
voyage en Angleterre ait lieu, pour la persuader que vous
n'etes pas devenue actuellement grand'mere ! Oh ! Madame,
8 Lady Charlotte Burgoyne, wife a little house near Chanteloup, the
of the general of that name. The country seat of the Duo de Choiseul.
Burgoynes lived for some years in
1768] To Sir Horace Mann 167
il n'y a que le premier pas vers cet evenement qui pourrait
me consoler du changement qu'a oper6 cet abominable
M. de Carmontel. Mais non, Madame, vous n'etes point
changee, temoin la grace de votre intention. Les peintres
n'ont point de pouvoir sur ma reconnaissance, qui vous voit
telle que vous etes. Elle retouche le tableau et vous rend
toutes les graces.
Eut-il reussi comme au portrait de Madame du Deffand,
encore y manquerait-il ce que j'eusse cherche inutilement ;
1'eloquence, 1'elegance, la saine raison, la bonte, 1'humilite,
et 1'affabilite, sont-elles du ressort de la peinture? Voila
ce que vous eussiez possede, Madame, avec une figure toute
comme celle du tableau ; cependant tout n'est pas perdu.
Sous le joli badinage de la poupee on decouvre cette unique
duchesse, femme de premier ministre, qui quitte les plaisirs
et la grandeur pour amuser les tristes moments d'une digne
amie. Voila cette ame qui en depit de la maladresse du
peintre se peint elle-meme. Voilk d'ou vient, Madame, que
j'adore ce precieux monument de votre bon cceur. Voila
d'ou vient que je dis et que je dirai toujours, je suis
content.
J'ai 1'honneur d'etre, Madame la Duchesse, votre tres
reconnaissant et tres fidele serviteur,
H. WALPOLE.
1205. To SIB HORACE MANN.
Arlington Street, Feb. 26, 1768.
MY list of dates tells me I ought to write to you, as
it is above a month since I did. As nothing of any
importance has happened, I missed the fit. The House of
Commons has been employed in ferreting out bribery and
corruption, and punishing some borough-jobbers and the
168 To Sir Horace Mann [1768
Corporation of Oxford *, who rather deserved thanks for not
having taken the money for themselves. Then we had
a flaming bill2 proposed, equal to the Self-denying Ordi-
nance of last century ; and, as if Satan himself had drawn
it, the only result would have been perjury ; but we had
the grace not to swallow it. The opposition picked up
spirits and plumped up their minority ; but pushing their
advantages too warmly, they fell on a jovial parson who
was supported by the Treasury, and accused by one old
sinner much worse than himself, and so sitting till past
one in the morning, the minority was again reduced to
39 against 155*. This blow will probably put an end to
the campaign and to the Parliament — a Parliament for ever
memorable ; but you will excuse me from writing their
panegyric ! Old Mr. Onslow, the last Speaker, did not live
to see their exit ; and when they meet, I believe he will
not regret that he had nothing to do with them. His death
was long, and dreadfully painful, but he supported his
agony with great patience, dignity, good humour, and even
good breeding.
Monsieur du Chatelet4 is at last arrived, and is to be
LETTER 1205. — 1 The Mayor and the ministers, that one Bennet, par-
Aldermen of Oxford offered to re-elect son of Aldborough, and attached to
their members if the latter would Townshend, had vaunted that he
engage to pay the debts of the Cor- could obtain the dismission of any
poration, amounting to seven thou- officer of the revenue who should
sand five hundred pounds. The vote for Fonnereau.' Grenville and
matter was laid before the House of others insisted on an inquiry into
Commons. The Mayor and Alder- the matter. Bennet was called to
men were committed to Newgate for the bar of the House of Commons,
five days. On their discharge they In the course of the inquiry ' it came
were reprimanded by the Speaker at out that [Fonnereau] had not only
the bar of the House. been more criminal than the clergy-
2 Beckford, on Jan. 20, moved for man, but for a series of years had
leave to bring in a bill to oblige established and profited of minis-
members of Parliament to swear that terial influence in the borough in
they had not bribed their electors. question . . . the parson was ao
8 ' One Fonnereau, a peevish man, quitted by 155 to 89.' (Memoirt of
who had all his life been a court Oeorge III, ed. 1894, vol. iii. pp. 112
tool, complained that Chauncy Town- and 114.)
shend, a brother-dependant, but more 4 Louis Marie Francois, Marquis
favoured, had so much interest with (afterwards Due) du Chatelet d'Ha-
1768] To Thomas Gray 169
very sumptuous and magnificent. The ambassadress, I
believe, will not come till the autumn. Lord Cathcart
has kissed hands for Kussia, in the room of Sir George
Macartney, who has married Lord Bute's second daughter,
and is to be in Parliament.
We are drowning again for the second winter, and hear
of nothing but floods and desolation : but, come ! I will
not look for such common news to fill up my letter, but
tell you a short story, and bid you good night. Last
Monday there was at court a sea-captain who has been
prisoner at Algiers. He was complaining how cruelly he
had been used. They asked how ? ' Why,' said he, ' you
see I am not strong, and could do no hard labour, and so
they put me to hatch eggs ; ' but his greatest grievance was,
that, when he had hatched a brood, they took away his
chickens. Did you ever hear of a more tender-hearted old
hen ? I laughed till I cried. Adieu !
1206. To THOMAS GEAY.
Arlington Street, Friday night, Feb. 26.
I PLAGUE you to death, but I must reply a few more
words. I shall be very glad to see in print, and to have
those that are worthy see your ancient odes ; but I was
in hopes there were some pieces, too, that I had not seen.
I am sorry there are not.
I troubled you about Perkin's proclamation, because Mr.
Hume lays great stress upon it, and insists, that if Perkin
affirmed his brother was killed, it must have been true,
if he was true Duke of York. Mr. Hume would have per-
suaded me that the proclamation is in Stowe, but I can find
no such thing there ; nor, what is more, in Casley's 1
raucourt, French Ambassador in LETTER 1206. — * David Casley,
London ; d. 1793. His wife was of author of a Catalogue ofJUSS. of th6
the De Bochechouart family. King's Library (1734).
170 To Thomas Gray [i768
Catalogue, which I have twice looked over carefully. I wrote
to Sir David Dalrymple in Scotland, to inquire after it,
because I would produce it if I could, though it should
make against me: but he, I believe, thinking I inquired
with the contrary view, replied very drily, that it was
published at York, and was not to be found in Scotland.
Whether he is displeased that I have plucked a hair from
the tresses of their great historian 2, or whether, as I suspect,
he is offended for King William ; this reply was all the
notice he took of my letter and book. I only smiled ;
as I must do when I find one party is angry with me
on King William's, and the other on Lord Clarendon's
account.
The answer advertised is Guthrie's s, who is furious that
I have taken no notice of his History. I shall take as
little of his pamphlet ; but his end will be answered, if
he sells that and one or two copies of his History. Mr.
Hume, I am told, has drawn up an answer, too, which I
shall see, and, if I can, will get him to publish ; for, if
I should ever choose to say anything more on this subject,
I had rather reply to him than to hackney-writers : to the
latter, indeed, I never will reply. A few notes I have to
add that will be very material ; and I wish to get some
account of a book that was once sold at Osborn's, that
exists perhaps at Cambridge, and of which I found a memo-
randum t'other day in my note-book. It is called A Paradox,
or Apology for Bichard the Third, by Sir William Corn-
wallis 4. If you will discover it, I should be much obliged
to you.
Lord Sandwich, with whom I have not exchanged a
2 Bishop Leslie, author of Essays on certain Paradoxes,
8 William Guthrie (1708-1770), one of which is entitled The Praise of
author of Histories of England and King Richard III, Cornwallis died
Scotland. about 1681.
* Sir William Cornwallis, Knight,
1768] To Thomas Gray 171
syllable since the general warrants, very obligingly sent
me an account of the Koll at Kimbolton ; and has since,
at my desire, borrowed it for me and sent it to town. It
is as long as my Lord Lyttelton's History; but by what
I can read of it (for it is both ill-written and much decayed),
it is not a roll of kings, but of all that have been possessed
of. or been Earls of Warwick : or have not — for one of the
first earls is ^Eneas. How, or wherefore, I do not know,
but amongst the first is Eichard the Third, in whose reign
it was finished, and with whom it concludes. He is there
again with his wife and son, and Edward the Fourth, and
Clarence8 and his wife, and Edward their son (who un-
luckily is a little old man), and Margaret Countess of
Salisbury, their daughter. — But why do I say with these ?
There is everybody else too — and what is most meritorious,
the habits of all the times are admirably well observed from
the most savage ages. Each figure is tricked with a pen,
well drawn, but neither coloured nor shaded. Richard is
straight, but thinner than my print ; his hair short, and
exactly curled in the same manner; not so handsome as
mine, but what one might really believe intended for the
same countenance, as drawn by a different painter, espe-
cially when so small ; for the figures in general are not
so long as one's finger. His Queen is ugly, and with just
such a square forehead as in my print, but I cannot say
like it. Nor, indeed, where forty-five figures out of fifty
(I have not counted the number) must have been imaginary,
can one lay great stress on the five. I shall, however, have
these figures copied, especially as I know of no other image
of the son. Mr. Astle is to come to me to-morrow morning
to explain the writing.
5 George Plantagenet (1449-1478), Nevill, Earl of Warwick and Salis-
Duke of Clarence, brother of King bury. Their son was Edward Plan-
Edward IV; m. (1469) Lady Isabel tagenet, Earl of Warwick and
Nevill, eldest daughter of Richard Salisbury, beheaded in 1499.
172 To Sir Horace Mann [1768
I wish you had told me in what age your Franciscan
friars lived ; and what the passage in Comines is. I am
very ready to make amende honorabk. Thank you for the
notes on the Noble Authors. They shall be inserted when
I make a new edition, for the sake of the trouble the person
has taken, though they are of little consequence. Dodsley
has asked me for a new edition ; but I have had little
heart to undertake such work, no more than to mend
my old linen. It is pity one cannot be born an ancient,
and have commentators to do such jobs for one ! Adieu !
Yours ever,
HOB. WALPOLE.
Saturday morning.
On reading over your letter again this morning, I do
find the age in which the friars lived — I read and write
in such a hurry, that I think I neither know what I read
or say.
1207. To SIR HOEACE MANN.
Arlington Street, March 8, 1768.
I FIND by your letter and by what Mr. Mackenzie has
told me himself within these two days, that he has gone
farther and let you more into the affair than I chose to
do ; and I will tell you why I did not. I set no value
on the promise of a favour ; and I hold a disappointment
more grievous than expectation pleasing. But since you
know so much, I will tell you all. On Mr. Mackenzie's
suggestion, I prevailed on Mr. Conway to make your riband
his request, when he resigned the Seals. The King received
it most graciously, and granted the request. But as I found
no time fixed, and know how often old promises are super-
seded by new, I thought best to say nothing of the matter,
till I could tell you the affair was completed. When that
1768] To Sir Horace Mann 173
will be, the Lord knows. By the delay, I suppose not
till there are more vacant to bestow. Mr. Mackenzie says
he has again spoke to the Duke of Grafton, who says he
looks upon your riband as settled. Still I advise you not
to be too sanguine, nor to mention it where you are, as
you would be mortified, if any accident should prevent the
accomplishment.
I do think that you sent me the account of the statues ;
I will look for it at Strawberry, where it must be if I have
it ; and where it must be if I ever had it.
Our and my last Parliament will be dissolved the day
after to-morrow. I do not know a single syllable of other
political news.
Mr. Conway and Lady Ailesbury have had a signal
escape — I was going to say, but attended with shocking
circumstances, but, as I was writing the preceding words,
my footman is come in, and says the affair is discovered.
In short, last Wednesday, they were waked at six in the
morning with an alarm that the house was on fire. It
was so ; a new library, just finished, was in flames. Many
of the books are destroyed, many damaged ; pictures burnt,
and some papers, and nine hundred pounds in bank-notes,
gone ; all appearances of a robbery attempted to be con-
cealed by setting fire to the room in three places. Thus,
the suspicion fell on a set of old and faithful servants.
I now hear that the assassin is discovered, and is a servant
of the Duke of Eichmond. I know no more yet. Adieu !
I must go and inquire; for they have been in miserable
suspense, and the whole town has been blaming him and
her, because they would not believe it could be done by
their own servants.
174 To George Montagu [1768
1208. To GEORGE MONTAGU.
Arlington Street, March 12, 1768.
THE house, &c., described in the enclosed advertisement
I should think might suit you ; I am sure its being in my
neighbourhood would make me glad, if it did. I know
no more than what you will find in this scrap of paper,
nor what the rent is, nor whether it has a chamber as
big as Westminster Hall ; but as you have flown about
the world, and are returned to your ark without finding
a place to rest your foot, I should think you might as well
inquire about the house I notify to you, as set out with
your caravan to Greatworth, like a Tartar chief ; especially
as the laws of this country will not permit you to stop
in the first meadow you like, and turn your horses to
grazing, without saying ~by your leave.
As my senatorial dignity is gone, and the sight of my
name is no longer worth threepence, I shall not put you
to the expense of a cover, and I hope the advertisement
will not be taxed, as I seal it to the paper. In short, I
retain so much iniquity from the last infamous Parliament,
that you see I would still cheat the public. The comfort
I feel in sitting peaceably here, instead of being at Lynn
in the high fever of a contested election, which at best
would end in my being carried about that large town like
the figure of a pope at a bonfire, is very great. I do not
think, when that function is over, that I shall repent my
resolution. What could I see, but sons and grandsons
playing over the same knaveries, that I have seen their
fathers and grandfathers act ? Could I hear oratory beyond
my Lord Chatham's? Will there ever be parts equ;J to
Charles Townshend's? Will George Grenville cease to be
the most tiresome of beings? Will he not be constantly
1768] To George Montagu 175
whining, and droning, and interrupting, like a cigale in
a sultry day in Italy.
Guthrie has published two criticisms on my Richard;
one abusive in the Critical Review, t'other very civil and
even flattering in a pamphlet — both so stupid and con-
temptible, that I rather prefer the first, as making some
attempt at vivacity ; but in point of argument, nay, and
of humour, at which he makes an effort too, both things
are below scorn. As an instance of the former, he says,
the Duke of Clarence might die of drinking sack, and so
be said to be drowned in a butt of malmsey ! of the latter
sort, are his calling the Lady Bridget1 Lady Biddy, and
the Duke of York poor little fellow I I will weary you with
no more such stuff!
The weather is so very March, that I cannot enjoy my
new holidays at Strawberry yet. I sit reading and writing
close to the fire.
Sterne has published two little volumes, called Sentimental
Travels. They are very pleasing, though too much dilated,
and infinitely preferable to his tiresome Tristram Shandy, of
which I never could get through three volumes. In these
there is great good nature and strokes of delicacy. Gray has
added to his poems three ancient Odes2, from Norway and
Wales. The subjects of the two first are grand and
picturesque, and there is his genuine vein in them ; but
they are not interesting, and do not, like his other poems,
touch any passion. Our human feelings, which he masters
at will in his former pieces, are here not affected. Who can
care through what horrors a Eunic savage arrived at all the
joys and glories they could conceive, the supreme felicity of
boozing ale out of the skull of an enemy in Odin's hall ? —
LETTXB 1208. — 1 Fourth daughter
of King Edward IV. She became
a nun.
176 To Sir Horace Mann [i?68
Oh, yes, just now perhaps these Odes would be tasted at
many a contested election. Adieu !
Yours ever,
H. W.
1209. To SIR HORACE MANN.
Arlington Street, Thursday, March 31, 1768.
I HAVE received your letter, with the extract of that from
Mr. Mackenzie. You know it was not agreeable to my
opinion that you should hear of the new promise, because
when it is not immediately executed, I look upon it as little
preferable to an old one, and because I thought it would be
raising the quicksilver of your impatience unnecessarily.
I do not think any honours will be bestowed yet. The
peerages are all postponed to an indefinite time. If you
are in a violent hurry, you may petition the ghosts of your
neighbours — Masaniello and the Gracchi. The spirit of one
of them walks here ; nay, I saw it go by my window yester-
day, at noon, in a hackney chair.
Friday.
I was interrupted yesterday. The ghost is laid for a time
in a red sea of port and claret. This spectre is the famous
Wilkes. He appeared the moment the Parliament was
dissolved. The ministry despised him. He stood for the
City of London, and was the last on the poll of seven
candidates, none but the mob, and most of them without
votes, favouring him. He then offered himself to the
county of Middlesex. The election came on last Monday.
By five in the morning a very large body of weavers, &c.,
took possession of Piccadilly, and the roads and turnpikes
leading to Brentford, and would suffer nobody to pass
without blue cockades, and papers inscribed 'No. 45,
Wilkes and Liberty.' They tore to pieces the coaches of
\
1768] To Sir Horace Mann 177
Sir W. Beauchamp Proctor, and Mr. Cooke, the other
candidates, though the latter was not there, but in bed
with the gout, and it was with difficulty that Sir William
and Mr. Cooke's cousin got to Brentford. There, however,
lest it should be declared a void election, Wilkes had the
sense to keep everything quiet. But, about five, Wilkes
being considerably ahead of the other two, his mob returned
to town and behaved outrageously. They stopped every
carriage, scratched and spoilt several with writing all over
them ' No. 45,' pelted, threw dirt and stones, and forced
everybody to huzza for Wilkes. I did but cross Piccadilly
at eight, in my coach with a French Monsieur d'Angeul,
whom I was carrying to Lady Hertford's; they stopped
us, and bid us huzza. I desired him to let down the glass
on his side, but, as he was not alert, they broke it to
shatters. At night they insisted, in several streets, on
houses being illuminated, and several Scotch refusing, had
their windows broken. Another mob rose in the City,
and Harley, the present mayor, being another Sir William
Walworth, and having acted formerly and now with great
spirit against Wilkes, and the Mansion House not being
illuminated, and he out of town, they broke every window,
and tried to force their way into the house. The trained
bands were sent for, but did not suffice. At last a party of
Guards from the Tower, and some lights erected, dispersed
the tumult. At one in the morning a riot began before
Lord Bute's house, in Audley Street, though illuminated.
They flung two large flints into Lady Bute's chamber, who
was in bed, and broke every window in the house. Next
morning, Wilkes and Cooke were returned members. The
day was veiy quiet, but at night they rose again, and
obliged almost every house in town to be lighted up, even
the Duke of Cumberland's and Princess Amelia's. About
one o'clock they marched to the Duchess of Hamilton's in
WALPOLE. VII U
178 To Sir Horace Mann [i768
Argyle Buildings (Lord Lorn l being in Scotland). She was
obstinate, and would not illuminate, though with child, and,
as they hope, of an heir to the family, and with the Duke,
her son 2, and the rest of her children in the house. There
is a small court and parapet wall before the house: they
brought iron crows, tore down the gates, pulled up the
pavement, and battered the house for three hours. They
could not find the key of the back door, nor send for any
assistance. The night before, they had obliged the Duke
and Duchess of Northumberland to give them beer, and
appear at the windows, and drink ' Wilkes's health.' They
stopped and opened the coach of Count Seilern, the Austrian
ambassador, who has made a formal complaint, on which
the Council met on Wednesday night, and were going to
issue a proclamation, but hearing all was quiet, and that
only a few houses were illuminated in Leicester Fields from
the terror of the inhabitants, a few constables were sent
with orders to extinguish the lights, and not the smallest
disorder has happened since. In short, it has ended like
other election riots, and with not a quarter of the mischief
that has been done in some other towns.
There are, however, difficulties to come. Wilkes has
notified that he intends to surrender himself to his out-
lawry, the beginning of next term, which comes on the
17th of this month. There is said to be a flaw in the
proceedings, in which case his election will be good, though
the King's Bench may fine or imprison him on his former
sentence. In my own opinion, the House of Commons is
the place where he can do the least hurt, for he is a
wretched speaker, and will sink to contempt, like Admiral
Vernon, who I remember just such an illuminated hero,
LETTER 1209. — 1 John Campbell, ning, Duchess Dowager of Hamilton.
Lord Lorn, eldest sou of John, Duke Walpole.
of Argyll, and second husband of the 2 Duke of Hamilton, her son by her
celebrated beauty, Elizabeth Gun- first husband. Walpole.
1768] To George Montagu 179
with two birthdays in one year. You will say, he can
write better than Vernon — true ; and therefore his case is
more desperate. Besides, Vernon was rich : Wilkes is un-
done ; and, though he has had great support, his patrons
will be sick of maintaining him. He must either sink
to poverty and a jail, or commit new excesses, for which
he will get knocked on the head. The Scotch are his
implacable enemies to a man. A Eienzi 8 cannot stop :
their histories are summed up in two words — a triumph
and an assassination.
I must finish, for Lord Hertford is this moment come in,
and insists on my dining with the Prince of Monaco, who is
come over to thank the King for the presents his Majesty
sent him on his kindness and attention to the late Duke of
York. You shall hear the suite of the above histories,
which I sit quietly and look at, having nothing more to do
with the storm, and sick of politics, but as a spectator, while
they pass over the stage of the world. Adieu !
1210. To GEOBGE MONTAGU.
Strawberry Hill, April 15, 1768.
MB. CHUTE tells me that you have taken a new house in
Squireland, and have given yourself up for two years more
to port and parsons. I am very angry, and resign you to
the works of the devil or the Church, I don't care which.
You will get the gout, turn Methodist, and expect to ride
to heaven upon your own great toe. I was happy with your
telling me how well you love me, and though I don't love
loving, I could have poured out all the fullness of my heart
to such an old and true friend — but what am I the better
for it, if I am to see you but two or three days in the year ?
I thought you would at last come and while away the
3 Nicolo Rienzi, a famous demagogue at Rome. Walpole.
N 2
180 To George Montagu [1768
remainder of life on the banks of the Thames in gaiety and
old tales. I have quitted the stage, and the Clive is preparing
to leave it T. We shall neither of us ever be grave : dowagers
roost all around us, and you could never want cards or
mirth. Will you end like a fat farmer, repeating annually
the price of oats, and discussing stale newspapers? There
have you got, I hear, into an old gallery, that has not been
glazed since Queen Elizabeth, and under the nose of an
infant Duke and Duchess2, that will understand you no
more than if you wore a ruff and a coif, and talk to them
of a call of Serjeants the year of the Spanish Armada !
Your wit and humour will be as much lost upon them, as
if you talked the dialect of Chaucer : for with all the divinity
of wit, it grows out of fashion like a fardingale. I am con-
vinced that the young men at White's already laugh at
George Selwyn's bons mots only by tradition. I avoid
talking before the youth of the age as I would dancing
before them ; for if one's tongue don't move in the steps
of the day, and thinks to please by its old graces, it is only
an object of ridicule, like Mrs. Hobart3 in her cotillon.
I tell you we should get together, and comfort ourselves
with reflecting on the brave days that we have known —
not that I think people were a jot more clever or wise in
our youth than they are now ; but as my system is always
to live in a vision as much as I can, and as visions don't
increase with years, there is nothing so natural as to think
one remembers what one does not remember.
I have finished my tragedy4, but as you would not bear
the subject, I will say no more of it, but that Mr. Chute,
LBTTKE 1210. — l Mrs. Clive retired of Ancaster ; m. (1757) Hon. George
in April 1769. Hobart, brother of second Earl of
2 The Duke and Duchess of BU.C- Buckinghamshire, whom he succeed-
cleuch, who had a seat at Adderbury ed in 1793.
in Oxfordshire, * The Mysterious Mother, of which
8 Albinia (d. 1816), daughter of fifty copies were printed at Straw-
Lord Vere Bertie, son of first Duke berry Hill.
1768] To George Montagu 181
who is not easily pleased, likes it, and Gray, who is still
more difficult, approves it. I am not yet intoxicated enough
with it to think it would do for the stage, though I wish to
see it acted ; but, as Mrs. Pritchard leaves the stage next
month, I know nobody could play the Countess; nor am
I disposed to expose myself to the impertinences of that
jackanapes Garrick, who lets nothing appear but his own
wretched stuff, or that of creatures still duller, who suffer
him to alter their pieces as he pleases. I have written an
epilogue in character for the Clive, which she would speak
admirably — but I am not so sure that she would like to
speak it. Mr. Conway, Lady Ailesbury, Lady Lyttelton,
and Miss Kich, are to come hither the day after to-morrow,
and Mr. Conway and I are to read my play to them ; for
I have not strength enough to go through the whole alone.
My press is revived, and is printing a French play5
written by the old President Renault. It was damned
many years ago at Paris, and yet I think is better than
some that have succeeded, and much better than any of
our modern tragedies. I print it to please the old man, as
he was exceedingly kind to me at Paris ; but I doubt
whether he will live till it is finished. He is to have
a hundred copies, and there are to be but an hundred
more, of which you shall have one.
Adieu ! though I am very angry with you, I deserve all
your friendship, by that I have for you, witness my anger
and disappointment.
Yours ever,
H. W.
P.S. Send me your new direction, and tell me when
I must begin to use it.
. 6 Cornelie, Vestale: tragedie.
182 To the Rev. William Cole [i?68
1211. To THE REV. WILLIAM COLE.
Strawberry Hill, April 16, 1768.
WELL, dear Sir, does your new habitation improve as the
spring advances? There has been dry weather and east
wind enough to drain and parch the fens. We find that
the severe beginning of this last winter has made terrible
havoc among the evergreens, though of old standing. Half
my cypresses have been bewitched and turned into brooms,
and the laurustinus is perished everywhere. I am Goth
enough to choose now and then to believe in prognostics,
and I hope this destruction imports, that, though foreigners
should take root here, they cannot last in this climate. I
would fain persuade myself that we are to be our own
empire to eternity.
The Duke of Manchester has lent me an invaluable
curiosity, I mean invaluable to us antiquaries — but perhaps
I have already mentioned it to you, I forget whether I have
or not. It is the original Koll of the Earls of Warwick, as
long as my gallery, and drawn by John Kous * himself — ay,
and what is more, there are portraits of Kichard III, his
Queen and son, the two former corresponding almost exactly
with my print, and a panegyric on the virtues of Kichard,
and a satire, upwards and downwards, on the illegal marriage
of Edward IV, and on the extortions of Henry VII. I have
had these and seven other portraits copied, and shall, some
time or other, give plates of them — but I wait for an excuse ;
I mean till Mr. Hume shall publish a few remarks he has
made on my book — they are very far from substantial, yet
still better than any other trash that has been written
against it, nothing of which deserves an answer.
LETTER 1211. — * John lious or Boss (d. 1491), priest of the chapel at Guy's
Cliffe, near Warwick.
1768] To the Rev. William Cole 183
I have long had thoughts of drawing up something for
London like St. Foix's 2 Eues de Paris, and have made some
collections. I wish you would be so good, in the course of
your reading, to mark down any passage to that end ; as
where any great houses of the nobility were situated, or in
what street any memorable event happened. I fear the
subject will not furnish much till later times, as our Princes
kept their courts up and down the country in such a vagrant
manner.
I expect Mr. Gray and Mr. Mason to pass the day with
me here to-morrow. When I am more settled here, I shall
put you in mind of your promise to bestow more than one
day on me.
I hope the Methodist, your neighbour, does not, like his
patriarch Whitfield, encourage the people to forge, murder,
&c., in order to have the benefit of being converted at the
gallows. That arch-rogue preached lately a funeral sermon
on one Gibson 3, hanged for forgery, and told his audience,
that he could assure them Gibson was now in heaven, and
that another fellow, executed at the same time, had the
happiness of touching Gibson's coat as he was turned off.
As little as you and I agree about an hundred years ago,
I don't desire a reign of fanatics. Oxford has begun with
these rascals, and I hope Cambridge will wake — I don't
mean that I would have them persecuted, which is what
they wish — but I would have the clergy fight them and
ridicule them. Adieu ! dear Sir.
Yours ever,
H. W.
* Germain Francois PouUain de s James Gibsenp executed at Ty-
St. Foix (170&-1776), author of Estate burn on March 23, 1768.
184 To Sir Horace Mann [1768
1212. To THOMAS ASTLE.
DEAR SlR, Arlington Street, April 22, 1768.
You was so good as to say you would procure a person
for me, who could transcribe the inscriptions on the Duke
of Manchester's Koll of the Earls of Warwick ; but as you
thought the expense would be considerable, I wish, Sir,
I could see such a person, that I might know what he
would ask for that work. I shall be much obliged to you,
Sir, if you can send any such person to me, or will only
inform me where I may meet with him. You will excuse,
I hope, the trouble I give you, though it is not for myself,
to whom you have always been most obliging.
I am, Sir,
Your obedient humble servant,
HOB. WALPOLE.
1213. To SIR HOBACE MANN.
Strawberry Hill, April 23, 1768.
As Wednesday last was the great day of expectation when
Mr. Wilkes was to, and did, make his appearance in the
King's Bench, I ought to have told you the event by Friday's
post ; but, my dear Sir, I could tell you no event ; nor was
I in my life ever so puzzled to translate law into so much
sense as would form a narrative. Would not one think that
on so common an event as an outlawry and surrender, it
must be as well known in Westminster Hall what is to be
done, as a schoolboy knows he is to be whipt if he plays
truant ? No such matter ! All the great lawyers in England
are now disputing in barbarous Latin and half English,
LETTER 1212. — Not in 0. ; now first printed from original in possession
of Mr. F. Barker.
1768] To Sir Horace Mann 185
whether 'Wilkes' is 'Wilkes,' whether he can surrender
himself when he does surrender, with twenty more ques-
tions equally absurd, with which they have puzzled them-
selves, and, by consequence, all England, and, by consequence,
all Europe. There are, at least, two dozen French now
writing from London to Paris, that the capias utlegatum
was not taken out as it should have been, and that the fiat
should have been issued, &c. Well, patience ! Let us come
to facts, if we cannot get at meaning.
On Wednesday all precautions were taken to prevent
riots. Westminster Hall was garrisoned by constables, and
Horse and Foot Guards were ready to support them.
Wilkes had applied to the Attorney-General1 for a writ
of error against his outlawry, which the Attorney had
promised, as they say ; but the night before had been over-
persuaded by the Master of the Kolls 2 not to sign the fiat.
Wilkes appeared according to promise. The Attorney-
General moves to commit him. Lord Mansfield and the
Judges of the King's Bench tell him the capias utlegatum
should have been taken out, and, not having been, there
was no such person as Mr. Wilkes before them ; nay, that
there was no such person, for, Mr. Wilkes being an outlaw,
an utlegatus does not exist in the eye of the law. However,
this non entity made a long speech, and abused the Chief
Justice to his face, though they say, with great trembling —
and then — why then? — one or two hallooed, and nobody
answered, and Mr. Wilkes walked away, and the Judges
went home to dinner, and a great crowd, for there was
a vast crowd, though no mobbing, retired.
This passed on Wednesday; it is now Saturday night.
Several capias issued, and the Lord Mayor lias turned out
some of the Sheriffs' officers for not apprehending Wilkes.
LETTZB 12ia— 1 Sir William de Grey.
3 Sir Thomas SewelL
186 To Sir Horace Mann [1768
In short, some are afraid ; more want to shift the unpopu-
larity from their own shoulders to those of others ; Wilkes
does not resist, but rather shifts his quarters, not being
impatient to have his cause tried when he is on the wrong
side of a prison. The people are disposed to be angry, but
do not know wherefore, and the court had rather provocation
was given than give it ; and so it is a kind of defensive war,
that I believe will end with little bloodshed. At least,
hitherto, it is so uninteresting, that I should not have
studied it so much, but to try to explain it to you, as at
such a distance you might think it more considerable. As
I shall be in town to-morrow, and my letter cannot go away
till Tuesday, I will tell you if I hear any more, though
I am heartily tired of the subject, and very indifferent about
the hero.
Tuesday, 26th.
I am not a jot wiser than I was. Wilkes has certainly
played at hide and seek, and is heartily sick of his personage,
and would fain make his peace, having the sense to see that
he must fall at last. There was a great crowd at West-
minster to-day, expecting his appearance, but I do not know
whether he came or not, for I have not been abroad, nor
seen anybody that could tell. Ex guovis ligno fit Mercuriiis,
but not a Cromwell. Adieu !
1214. To SIR HOEACE MANN.
Arlington Street, Thursday, May 12, 1768.
You sit very much at your ease, my dear Sir, demanding
ribands and settling the conveyance. We are a little more
gravely employed. We are glad if we can keep our windows
whole, or pass and repass unmolested. I call it reading
history as one goes along the streets. Now we have a
chapter of Clodius — now an episode of Prynne, and so on.
1768] To Sir Horace Mann 187
I do not love to think what the second volume must be of
a flourishing nation running riot. You have my text ; now
for the application.
Wilkes, on the 27th of last month, was committed to the
King's Bench. The mob would not suffer him to be carried
thither, but took off the horses of his hackney-coach and
drew him through the City to Cornhill. He there per-
suaded them to disperse, and then stole to the prison and
surrendered himself. Last Saturday his cause was to be
heard, but his counsel pleading against the validity of the
outlawry, Lord Mansfield took time to consider, and ad-
journed the hearing till the beginning of next term, which
is in June.
The day before yesterday the Parliament met. There
have been constant crowds and mobbing at the prison, but,
on Tuesday, they insisted on taking Wilkes out of prison
and carrying him to Parliament. The tumult increased so
fast, that the Eiot Act was read, the soldiers fired, and
a young man1 was shot The mob bore the body about
the streets to excite more rage, and at night it went so far
that four or five more persons were killed, and the uproar
quashed, though they fired on the soldiers from the windows
of houses. The partisans of Wilkes say the young man
was running away, was pursued and killed ; and the jury
have brought it in wilful murder against the officer and
men : so they must take their trials ; and it makes their
case very hard, and lays Government under great difficulties.
On the other side, the young man is said to have been
very riotous, and marked as such by the Guards. But this
is not all We have independent mobs, tha^Jiave nothing
to do with Wilkes, and who only take advantage of so
favourable a season. The dearness of provisions incites,
the hope of increase of wages allures, and drink puts them
LETTEK 1214. — * His name was William Allen.
188 To Sir Horace Mann [ires
in motion. The coal-heavers began, and it is well it is not
a hard frost, for they have stopped all coals coming to town.
The sawyers rose too, and at last the sailors, who have com-
mitted great outrages on merchant ships, "and prevented
them from sailing. I just touch the heads, which would
make a great figure if dilated in Baker's Chronicle among
the calamities at the end of a reign. The last mob, how-
ever, took an extraordinary turn ; for many thousand sailors
came to petition the Parliament yesterday, but in the most
respectful and peaceable manner ; desired only to have their
grievances examined ; if reasonable, redressed ; if not reason-
able, they would be satisfied. Being told that their flags
and colours, with which they paraded, were illegal, they
cast them away. Nor was this all : they declared for the
King and Parliament, and beat and drove away Wilkes's
mob.
It is now Friday morning; everything was quiet yesterday.
Lord Suffolk moved the Lords to address the King to confer
some mark of favour on the Lord Mayor Harley, for his
active and spirited behaviour. The Duke of Grafton
answered that it was intended ; and the House were very
zealous. I hope neither the King of Westminster nor the
King of London will think of the red riband !
I wish with all my heart I may have no more to tell you
of riots ; not that I ever think them very serious things,
but just to the persons on whom the storm bursts. But
I pity poor creatures who are deluded to their fate, and fall
by gin or faction, when they have not a real grievance to
complain of, but what depends on the elements, or causes
past remedy. I cannot bear to have the name of Liberty
profaned to the destruction of the cause ; for frantic tumults
only lead to that terrible corrective, Arbitrary Power, —
which cowards call out for as protection, and knaves are so
ready to grant.
1768] To the Rev. William Cole 189
I believe you will soon hear of the death of Princess
Louisa 2, who is in a deep consumption.
I am much obliged to Lord Stormont for his kind thoughts,
and am glad you are together. You will be a comfort to
him, and it must be very much so to you at this time,
to have a rational man to talk with instead of old fools and
young ones, boys and travelling governors.
I say nothing about the riband, because you must be
sensible how very unlikely it is to make its appearance just
now. Adieu !
1215. To THE EEV. WILLIAM COLE.
Strawberry Hill, June 6, 1768.
You have told me what makes me both sorry and glad :
long have I expected the appearance of Ely, and thought it
at the eve of coming forth ! Now you tell me it is not half
written — but then I am rejoiced that you are to write it.
Pray do ; the author is very much in the right to make you
author for him. I cannot say you have addressed yourself
quite so judiciously as he has. I never heard of Cardinal
Lewis of Luxembourg1 in my days, nor have a scrap of the
history of Normandy, but Ducarel's tour to the Conqueror's
kitchen. But the best way will be to come and rummage
my library yourself ; not to set me to writing the lives of
prelates ; I shall strip them stark, and you will have them
to re-consecrate. Cardinal Morton * is at your service : pray
say for him, and of me, what you please. I have very
slender opinion of his integrity ; but, as I am not spiteful,
it would be hard to exact from you a less favourable account
8 The King's sister. Walpole. 8 Cardinal John Morton (d. 1500),
LETTER 1215. — 1 Cardinal Louis Bishop of Ely, 1489-96 ; Archbishop
de Luxembourg St. Pol, Archbishop of Canterbury, 1496-1500; Lord
of Eoucn and Bishop of Ely, 1438- Chancellor, 1486-1500.
43 ; d. 1443.
190 To the Eev. William Cole [ires
of him than I conclude your piety will bestow on all his
predecessors and successors. Seriously, you know how
little I take contradiction to heart, and beg you will have
no scruples about defending Morton. When I bestow but
a momentary smile on the abuse of my answerers, I am not
likely to stint a friend in a fair and obliging remark. The
man that you mention, who calls himself Impartialis, is,
I suppose, some hackney historian, I shall never inquire
whom, angry at being censured in the lump, and not named.
I foretold he would drop his criticisms before he entered on
Perkin Warbeck, which I knew he could not answer, and
so it happened — good night to him !
Unfortunately, I am no culinary antiquary; the Bishop
of Carlisle3, who is, I have oft heard talk of a sotelle*, as
an ancient dish. He is rambling between London, Hagley,
and Carlisle, that I do not know where to consult him ;
but, if the book is not printed before winter, I am sure he
could translate your bill of fare into modern phrase. As
I trust I shall see you here some tune this summer, you
might bring your papers with you, and we will try what we
can make of them. Tell me, do, when it will be most con-
venient for you to come, from now to the end of October.
At the same time, I will beg to see the letters of the Univer-
sity to King Eichard : and shall be still more obliged to you
for the print of Jane Shore. I have a very bad mezzotinto
of her, either from the picture at Cambridge or Eton.
I wish I could return these favours by contributing to
the decoration of your new old house ; but, as you know,
I erected an old house, not demolished one, I had no
windows, or frames for windows, but what I bespoke on
purpose for the places where they are. My painted glass
was so exhausted, before I got through my design, that
8 Charles Lyttelton. ' snbtilty ' — the mediaeval name for
4 Probably a mistake for sotelte — ornamental dishes of confectionery.
1768] To Sir Horace Mann 191
I was forced to have the windows in the gallery painted
on purpose by Pecket. What scraps I have remaining are
so bad, I cannot make you pay for the carriage of them, as
I think there is not one whole piece ; but you shall see them
when you come hither, and I will search if I can find any-
thing for your purpose — I am sure I owe it you. Adieu !
Yours ever,
H. WALPOLE.
1216. To SIR HOEACE MANN.
Strawberry Hill, June 9, 1768.
To send you empty paragraphs when you expect and want
news is tantalizing, is not it? Pray agree with me, and
then you will allow that I have acted very kindly in not
writing till I had something to tell you. Something, of
course, means Wilkes, for everything is nothing except the
theme of the day. There has appeared a violent North
Briton, addressed to, and written against Lord Mansfield,
threatening a rebellion if he continued to persecute Mr.
Wilkes. This paper, they say, Wilkes owned to the
Chevalier de Chastelux1, a French gentleman, who went
to see him in the King's Bench, and who knew him at
Paris. A rebellion threatened in print is not very terrible.
However, it was said that the paper was outrageous enough
to furnish the law with every handle it could want. But
modern mountains do not degenerate from their ancestors ;
their issue are still mice. You know, too, that this agrees
with my system, that this is an age of abortions. Prosecu-
tions were ordered against the publishers and venders, and
there, I suppose, it will end.
Yesterday was fixed for the appearance of Wilkes in
LETTER 1216. — 1 Francois Jean a litterateur and member of the French
(1734-1788), Marquis de Chastellux, Academy.
192 To Sir Horace Mann [1768
Westminster Hall. The Judges went down by nine in the
morning, but the mob had done breakfast still sooner, and
was there before them; and as Judges stuffed out with
dignity and lamb-skins are not absolute sprites, they had
much ado to glide through the crowd. Wilkes's counsel
argued against the outlawry, and then Lord Mansfield, in
a speech of an hour and a half, set it aside ; not on their
reasons, but on grounds which he had discovered in it him-
self. I think they say it was on some flaw in the Christian
name of the county, which should not have been Middlesex
to wit, — but I protest I don't know, for I am here alone,
and picked up my intelligence as I walked in our meadows
by the river. You, who may be walking by the Arno, will,
perhaps, think there was some timidity in this ; but the
depths of the law are wonderful ! So pray don't make any
rash conclusions, but stay till you get better information.
Well ! now he is gone to prison again, — I mean Wilkes ;
and on Tuesday he is to return to receive sentence on the
old guilt of writing, as the Scotch2 would not call it, the 45,
though they call the rebellion so. The sentence may be
imprisonment, fine, or pillory ; but as I am still near the
Thames, I do not think the latter will be chosen. Oh ! but
stay, he may plead against the indictment, and should there
be an improper Middlesex to wit in that too, why then in
that case, you know, he did not write the 45, and then he
is as white as milk, and as free as air, and as good a member
of Parliament as if he had never been expelled. In short,
my dear Sir, I am trying to explain to you what I literally
do not understand ; all I do know is, that Mr. Cooke, the
other member for Middlesex, is just dead, and that we are
going to have another Middlesex election, which is very
unpleasant to me, who hate mobs so near as Brentford.
8 The Scotch called the rebellion in 1715. 'the 15,' and that in 1745,
lthe 45.' Walpole.
1768] To Sir Horace Mann 193
Serjeant Glynn3, Wilkes's counsel, is the candidate, and
I suppose the only one, in the present humour of the people,
who will care to have his brains dashed out, in order to sit
in Parliament. In truth, this enthusiasm is confined to
the very mob or little higher, and does not extend beyond
the county. All other riots are ceased, except the little
civil war between the sailors and coal-heavers, in which two
or three lives are lost every week.
What is most disagreeable, even the Emperor of Morocco
has taken courage on these tumults, and has dared to mutiny
for increase of wages, like our journeymen tailors. France
is pert too, and gives herself airs in the Mediterranean.
Our Paolists were violent for support of Corsica, but I think
they are a little startled on a report that the hero Paoli is
like other Patriots, and is gone to Versailles 4, for a peerage
and pension. I was told to-day that at London there are
murmurs of a war. I shall be sorry if it prove so. Deaths !
suspense, say victory; — how end all our victories? In
debts and a wretched peace ! Mad world, in the individual
or the aggregate !
Well ! say I to myself, and what is all this to me ? Have
not I done with that world? Am not I here at peace,
unconnected with courts and ministries, and indifferent who
is minister ? What is a war in Europe to me more than a
war between the Turkish and Persian emperors ? True ;
yet self-love makes one love the nation one belongs to, and
vanity makes one wish to have that nation glorious. Well I
I have seen it so ; I have seen its conquests spread farther
than Roman eagles thought there was land. I have seen,
too, the Pretender at Derby ; and, therefore, you mtfsTknow
that I am content with historic seeing, and wish Fame and
1 John Glynn (d. 1779), Eecorder order to protest against the sale of
of London, 1772-79. Corsica to France by the Genoese.
4 Paoli's visit was undertaken in
WALPOLE. VII
194 To George Montagu [1768
History would be quiet and content without entertaining
me with any more sights. We were down at Derby, we
were up at both Indies ; I have no curiosity for any inter-
mediate sights. Indeed, I have no objection to the courts
of Versailles and Madrid carting 6 that old bawd the Pope.
She will cry as Mother Needham did of her bagnio, ' What
will become of this poor Church when I am in the arms of
my sweet Jesus?'
Your brother was with me just before I came out of town,
and spoke of you with great kindness, and accused himself
of not writing to you, but protested it was from not knowing
what to say to you about the riband. I engaged, to write
for him, so you must take this letter as from him too. I
told him with pleasure what I tell you, that my Lord
Mayor has contented himself with the honour of Privy
Counsellor and the solidity of a contract, and will not dress
himself in your plumes. When they will be yours, I am
sure I know not. I hope there will be no war, for some
hero to take your honours out of your mouth, sword in
hand. The first question I shall ask when I go to town
will be, how my Lord Chatham does? I shall mind his
health more than the stocks. The least symptom of a war
will certainly cure him. Adieu ! my dear Sir.
1217. To GEOBGE MONTAGU.
Strawberry Hill, June 15, 1768.
No, I cannot be so false as to say I am glad you are
pleased with your situation \ You are so apt to take root,
that it requires ten years to dig you out again when you
once begin to settle. As you go pitching your tent up and
6 So in MS. ' To George Montagu, Esq.,
LKTTER 1217. — l This letter is ad- at Adderbury,
dressed : Oxfordshire.'
1768] To George Montagu 195
down, I wish you was still more a Tartar, and shifted your
quarters perpetually. Yes, I will come and see you ; but
tell me first, when do your Duke and Duchess* travel to
the north ? I know he is a very amiable lad, and I do not
know that she is not as amiable a laddess, but I had rather
see their house comfortably when they are not there.
I perceive the deluge fell upon you before it reached us.
It began here but on Monday last, and then rained near
eight-and-forty hours without intermission. My poor hay
has not a dry thread to its back. I have had a fire these
three days. In short, every summer one lives in a state of
mutiny and murmur, and I have found the reason. It is
because we will affect to have a summer, and we have no
title to any such thing. Our poets learnt their trade of the
Komans, and so adopted the terms of their masters. They
talk of shady groves, purling streams, and cooling breezes,
and we get sore throats and agues with attempting to realize
these visions. Master Damon writes a song, and invites
Miss Chloe to enjoy the cool of the evening, and the deuce
a bit have we of any such thing as a cool evening. Zephyr
is a north-east wind, that makes Damon button up to the
chin, and pinches Chloe's nose till it is red and blue ; and then
they cry, ' This is a bad summer ' — as if we ever had any
other! The best sun we have is made of Newcastle coal,
and I am determined never to reckon upon any other. We
ruin ourselves with inviting over foreign trees, and make
our houses clamber up hills to look at prospects. How our
ancestors would laugh at us, who knew there was no being
comfortable, unless you had a high hill before your nose,
and a thick warm wood at your back ! Taste is too freezing
a commodity for us, and, depend upon it, will go out of
fashion again.
There is indeed a natural warmth in this country, which,
2 Of Buccleuch.
O 2
196 To ike Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [ires
as you say, I am very glad not to enjoy any longer — I mean
the hot-house in St. Stephen's Chapel. My own sagacity
makes me very vain, though there was very little merit in
it. I had seen so much of all parties, that I had little
esteem left for any ; it is most indifferent to me who is in
or who is out, or which is set in the pillory, Mr. Wilkes or
my Lord Mansfield. I see the country going to ruin, and
no man with brains enough to save it. That is mortifying ;
but what signifies who has the undoing it ? I seldom suffer
myself to think on this subject : vny patriotism could do no
good, and my philosophy can make me be at peace.
I am sorry you are likely to lose your poor cousin Lady
Hinchinbrook 3 : I heard a very bad account of her when
I was last in town. Your letter to Madame Eoland shall
be taken care of — but as you are so scrupulous of making
me pay postage, I must remember not to overcharge you,
as I can frank my idle letters no longer — therefore, good
night.
Yours ever,
H. W.
P.S. I was in town last week, and found Mr. Chute still
confined. He had a return in his shoulder, but I think it
more rheumatism than gout.
1218. To THE HON. HENBY SEYMOUE CONWAY.
Strawberry Hill, June 16, 1768.
I AM glad you have writ to me, for I wanted to write to
you, and did not know what to say. I have been but two
nights in town, and then heard of nothing but Wilkes, of
whom I am tired to death, and of T. Townshend, the truth
3 She died in July 1768.
LETTER 1218. — Collated with original in possession of Earl Waldegrave.
1768] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 197
of whose story1 1 did not know ; and indeed the tone of the
age has made me so uncharitable, that I concluded his ill-
humour was put on, in order to be mollified with the
reversion of his father's place, which I know he has long
wanted ; and the destination of the Pay Office has been so
long notified, that I had no notion of his not liking the
arrangement. For the new Paymaster 2, I could not think
him worth writing a letter on purpose. By your letter and
the enclosed, I find Townshend has been very ill-treated,
and I like his spirit in not bearing such neglect and con-
tempt, though wrapped up in 2,700Z. a year.
What can one say of the D. of G.3, but that his whole
conduct is childish, insolent, inconstant, and absurd — nay,
ruinous? Because we are not in confusion enough, he
makes everything as bad as possible, neglecting on one
hand, and taking no precautions on the other. I neither
see how it is possible for him to remain minister, nor whom
to put in his place. No Government, no police, London and
Middlesex distracted, the Colonies in rebellion, Ireland ready
to be so, and Trance arrogant, and on the point of being
hostile ! Lord Bute accused of all and dying of a panic ;
George Grenville wanting to make rage desperate ; Lord
Kockingham, the Duke of Portland, and the Cavendishes
thinking we have no enemies but Lord Bute and Dyson,
and that four mutes and an epigram can set everything to
rights ; the Duke of Grafton like an apprentice, thinking
the world should be postponed to a whore and a horse-race ;
and the Bedfords not caring what disgraces we undergo,
while each of them has 3,000?. a year and three thousand
1 He was Joint Paymaster-General, backwards and forwards every six
' The Duke of Grafton, ... to gratify months ; and resigning, joined the
Eigby with the whole employment, opposition.' (Memoirs of George III,
offered to make Townshend one of ed. 1894, vol. iii. pp. 152-3.)
the Vice - Treasurers of Ireland. 2 Eigby.
Townshend refused it with warmth, 3 The Duke of Grafton.
saying, he would not be turned
198 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [i?68
bottles of claret and champagne! Not but that I believe
these last good folks are still not satisfied with the satis-
faction of their wishes. They have the favour of the Duke
of Grafton, but neither his confidence nor his company ; so
that they can neither sell the places in his gift nor his
secrets. Indeed, they have not the same reasons to be
displeased with him as you have ; for they were his enemies
and you his friend — and therefore he embraced them and
dropped you, and I believe would be puzzled to give a
tolerable reason for either.
As this is the light in which I see our present situation,
you will not wonder that I am happy to have nothing to do
with it. Not that, were it more flourishing, I would ever
meddle again. I have no good opinion of any of our
factions, nor think highly of either their heads or their
hearts. I can amuse myself much more to my satisfaction ;
and, had I not lived to see my country at the period of its
greatest glory, I should bear our present state much better.
I cannot mend it, and therefore will think as little of it as
I can. The Duke of Northumberland asked me to dine at
Sion to-morrow ; but, as his vanity of governing Middlesex
makes him absurdly meditate to contest the county, I con-
cluded he wanted my interest here, and therefore excused
myself ; for I will have nothing to do with it.
I shall like much to come to Park Place, if your present
company stays, or if the Fitzroys or the Kichmonds are
there ; but I desire to be excused from the Cavendishes,
who have in a manner left me off, because I was so unlucky
as not to think Lord Kockingham as great a man as my
Lord Chatham, and Lord John more able than either. If
you will let me know when they leave you, you shall see
me : but they would not be glad of my company, nor I of
theirs.
My hay and I are drowned ; I comfort myself with a fire,
1768] To Franfois Arottet de Voltaire 199
but I cannot treat the other with any sun, at least not with
one that has more warmth than the sun in a harlequin-
farce.
I went this morning to see the Duchess of Grafton, who
has got an excellent house and fine prospect, but melancholy
enough, and so I thought was she herself: I did not ask
wherefore.
I go to town to-morrow to see The Devil upon Two Sticks *,
as I did last week, but could not get in. I have now
secured a place in my niece Cholmondeley's5 box, and am
to have the additional entertainment of Mrs. Macaulay in
the same company ; who goes to see herself represented, and
I suppose figures herself veiy like Socrates.
I shall send this letter by the coach, as it is rather free
spoken, and Sandwich may be prying 6.
Mr. Chute has found the subject of my tragedy, which
I thought happened in Tillotson's time, in the Queen of
Navarre's Tales ; and what is very remarkable, I had laid
my plot at Narbonne and about the beginning of the
Reformation, and it really did happen in Languedoc and
in the time of Francis the First. Is not this singular ?
I hope your canary hen was really with egg by the blue-
bird, and that he will not plead that they are none of his
and sue for a divorce. Adieu ! Yours ever,
H. W.
1219. To FBAN£OIS AEOUET DE VOLTAIBE.
gIK) Strawberry Hill, June 21, 1768.
You read English with so much more facility than I can
write French, that I hope you will excuse my making use
* A comedy by Foote. actress, and wife of Hon. Robert
5 Mary, daughter of Arthur Wof- Cholmondeley.
fington, sister of Mrs. Woffington the 6 He was Joint Postmaster-General
200 To Francois Arouet de Voltaire [1768
of my own tongue to thank you for the honour of your
letter. If I employed your language, my ignorance in it
might betray me into expressions that would not do justice
to the sentiments I feel at being so distinguished.
It is true, Sir, I have ventured to contest the history of
Eichard the Third, as it has been delivered down to us:
and I shall obey your commands, and send it to you, though
with fear and trembling ; for though I have given it to the
world, as it is called, yet, as you have justly observed, that
world is comprised within a very small circle of readers —
and undoubtedly I could not expect that you would do me
the honour of being one of the number. Nor do I fear you,
Sir, only as the first genius in Europe, who has illustrated
every science ; I have a more intimate dependence on you
than you suspect. Without knowing it, you have been my
master, and perhaps the sole merit that may be found in
my writings is owing to my having studied yours ; so far,
Sir, am I from living in that state of barbarism and igno-
rance with which you tax me when you say que vous m'etes
peut-etre inconnu. I was not a stranger to your reputation
very many years ago, but remember to have then thought
you honoured our house by dining with my mother — though
I was at school, and had not the happiness of seeing you :
and yet my father was in a situation that might have
dazzled eyes older than mine. The plain name of that
father, and the pride of having had so excellent a father,
to whose virtues truth at last does justice, is all I have to
boast. I am a very private man, distinguished by neither
dignities nor titles, which I have never done anything to
deserve — but as I am certain that titles alone would not
have procured me the honour of your notice, I am content
without them.
But, Sir, if I can tell you nothing good of myself, I can
at least tell you something bad ; and, after the obligation
1768] To Franpois Arouei de Voltaire 201
you have conferred on me by your letter, I should blush
if you heard it from anybody but myself. I had rather
incur your indignation than deceive you. Some time ago
I took the liberty to find fault in print with the criticisms
you had made on our Shakspeare. This freedom, and no
wonder, never came to your knowledge. It was in a
preface to a trifling romance, much unworthy of your
regard, but which I shall send you, because I cannot accept
even the honour of your correspondence, without making
you judge whether I deserve it. I might retract, I might
beg your pardon ; but having said nothing but what I
thought, nothing illiberal or unbecoming a gentleman, it
would be treating you with ingratitude and impertinence,
to suppose that you would either be offended with my
remarks, or pleased with my recantation. You are as much
above wanting flattery, as I am above offering it to you.
You would despise me, and I should despise myself— a
sacrifice I cannot make, Sir, even to you.
Though it is impossible not to know you, Sir, I must
confess my ignorance on the other part of your letter.
I know nothing of the history of Monsieur de Genonville J,
nor can tell whether it is true or false, as this is the first
time I ever heard of it. But I will take care to inform
LETTER 1219. — a Cordon de Jumon- discovered by Washington himself
ville, a French officer sent in May, at the head of forty followers. The
1754 to convey to Washington a French seized their guns; Washing-
summons from the commandant ton gave the word to fire; Jumon-
of Fort Duquesne (afterwards Pitts- ville and nine of his men were
burg) requiring him to withdraw killed, and the rest, with one ex-
from territory claimed for Louis XV. ception, taken prisoners. It was
' Before delivering the summons, not until the end of the fight that
Jumonville was ordered to send two Washington learned that Jumon-
couriers back with all speed to Fort ville had been the bearer of a
Duquesne to inform the commandant summons. The affair attracted great
that he had found the English, and attention in France. Voltaire as-
to acquaint him when he intended serted that the Seven Years' War
to communicate with them,' While sprang from this skirmish. (See
hiding in the forest with his men Parkman, Montcalm and Wolfe, ed.
to await the commandant's instruc- 1899, vol. i. pp. 150-5.)
tions, Jumonville and his party were
202 To Sir Horace Mann [1768
myself as well as I can, and, if you allow me to trouble
you again, will send you the exact account as far as I can
obtain it. I love my country, but I do not love any of
my countrymen that have been capable, if they have been
so, of a foul assassination. I should have made this inquiry
directly, and informed you of the result of it in this letter,
had I been in London ; but the respect I owe you, Sir,
and my impatience to thank you for so unexpected a mark
of your favour, made me choose not to delay my gratitude
for a single post. I have the honour to be, Sir,
Your most obliged and most obedient humble Servant,
HOB. WALPOLE.
1220. To SIB HORACE MANN.
Strawberry Hill, June 22, 1768.
I HAVE this moment received your letter of the 4th, and
think one of mine must have miscarried, as I am almost
positive that I did thank you for the print of Tristram
Shandy. I have not a list of my dates here, but in the
next I will send you an account of all the letters I have
written to you since Christmas last.
You will see in all the papers the sentence1 passed on
Wilkes, which, is severe enough, though not so strong as
usual, it not having, I suppose, been thought prudent to
add the pillory, though that disgrace would have ascertained
the rejection of him from the House of Commons. He
does intend to appeal to the House of Lords, but I doubt
that is not just the court where he will find the easiest
LETTER 1220. — 1 ' On the 18th, twelve months, to be computed from
sentence was pronounced on Wilkes. the expiration of the first ten. He
For the North. Briton, No. 46, he was to find security for his good
was condemned to pay a fine of £500, behaviour for seven years, himself
and to suffer imprisonment for ten being bound in £1,000, and two
months. For the Essay on Woman, sureties in £500 each.' (Memoirs of
£500 more, and imprisonment for George III, ed. 1894, vol. iii. p. 154.)
1768] To Sir Horace Mann 203
redress. In the meantime, his stock is much fallen. His
sentence being rather passive than active, and exhibiting
no spectacle, does not strike the mob with much compas-
sion : they love to be shocked in order to be melted. The
novelty, too, is over : though great pains were taken, and
a thousand handbills dispersed to summon his constituents,
the crowd was very small at his receiving sentence, with
which he was much struck. Contributions hang off; in
short, the holiday is over.
But there was a collateral reason which helped to put
out this flame. The coal-heavers, who, by the way, are
all Irish Whiteboys, after their battles with the sailors,
turned themselves to general war, robbed in companies,
and murdered wherever they came. This struck such a
panic, that in Wapping nobody dared to venture abroad,
and the City began to find no joke in such liberty. They
cried out for the Guards, were transported to see them,
and encouraged them to seize or kill the coal-heavers, —
for aldermen love the military when their neighbour Alder-
man Ucalegon's s house is set on fire. This dangerous riot
is quelled, and I hear several of these banditti are to be
tried and hanged immediately. You may be easy ; I think
we shall have no more tumults.
I am quite ignorant what is to be done about Corsica s ;
it looks rather as if we should take no part: but I live
here out of all politics, and am content if there is no war
between my neighbours, the two Kings of Brentford*.
If the monarchs round about you expel the Pope, I hope
they will not send him hither, as they have done the
Jesuits ; for, wise as Europe thinks us, there is no folly
1 ' Jam proximns ardet Ucalegon.' the French. The English Govern-
Walpole. ment then took the course of secretly
3 The English Ambassador at Paris supplying the Corsicans with arms
protested strongly bat ineffectually and ammunition,
against the purchase of Corsica by * The King and Wilkes. Walpole.
204 To the Earl of Straffbrd [i768
of which Europe purges itself, which we are not ready to
receive.
I have written to you so often lately, that you must
excuse a short letter, which is but the epilogue to all I have
been telling you before. As riots, events, revolutions,
compose the gross of our correspondence, 'tis happy when
we have little to say. The world would be more dull if
it furnished no matter for history, but its felicity would
be greater too. Adieu !
1221. To THE EARL OP STEAFFOBD.
Strawberry Hill, June 25, 1768.
You ordered me, my dear Lord, to write to you, and
I am always ready to obey you, and to give you every
proof of attachment in my power : but it is a very barren
season for all but cabalists, who can compound, divide,
multiply No. 45 forty-five thousand different ways. I saw
in the papers to-day, that somehow or other this famous
number and the number of the Beast in the Eevelations
is the same — an observation from which different persons
will draw various conclusions. For my part, who have
no ill wishes to Wilkes, I wish he was in Patmos, or the
New Jerusalem, for I am exceedingly tired of his name.
The only good thing I have heard in all this controversy
was of a man who began his letter thus: 'I take the
Wilkes-and-liberty to assure you,' &c.
I peeped at London last week, and found a tolerably
full Opera. But now the Birthday is over, I suppose every-
body will go to waters and races till his Majesty of Denmark1
arrives. He is extremely amorous; but stays so short
a time, that the ladies who intend to be undone must not
LETTB.S 1221. — J Christian VII, King of Denmark.
1768] To the Earl of Straffbrd 205
haggle. They must do their business in the twinkling of
an allemande, or he will be flown. Don't you think he
will be a little surprised, when he inquires for the seraglio
in Buckingham House, to find, in full of all accounts, two
old Meckknburgheresses 2 ?
Is it true that Lady Kockingham is turned Methodist?
It will be a great acquisition to the sect to have their
hymns set by Giardini. Pope Joan Huntingdon will be
deposed, if the husband becomes First Minister. I doubt,
too, the saints will like to call at Canterbury and Win-
chester in their way to heaven. My charity is so small,
that I do not think their virtue a jot more obdurate than
that of Patriota
We have had some severe rain ; but the season is now
beautiful, though scarce hot. The hay and corn promise
that we shall have no riots on their account. Those black
dogs the Whiteboys or coal-heavers are dispersed or taken ;
and I really see no reason to think we shall have another
rebellion this fortnight. The most comfortable event to
me is, that we shall have no civil war all the summer
at Brentford. I dreaded two kings there ; but the writ
for Middlesex will not be issued till the Parliament meets ;
so there will be no pretender against King Glynn8. As
I love peace, and have done with politics, I quietly ac-
knowledge the King de facto; and hope to pass and
repass unmolested through his Majesty's long, lazy, lousy
capital *.
My humble duty to my Lady Strafford and all her
pheasants. I have just made two cascades ; but my naiads
are fools to Mrs. Chetwynd or my Lady Sondes, and don't
give me a gallon of water in a week. — Well, this is
8 The Queen's German Keepers of * Serjeant Glynn, Member of Par-
the Robes, Mesdames Hagedorn and liament for Middlesex. Walpole.
Schwellenberg. 4 Brentford. Walpole.
206 To Francois Arouet de Voltaire [1768
a very silly letter! But you must take the will for the
deed. Adieu, my dear Lord !
Your most faithful servant,
HOK. WALPOLE.
1222. To FEAN^OIS ABOUET DE VOLTAIEE.
Strawberry Hill, July 27, 1768.
ONE can never, Sir, be sorry to have been in the wrong,
when one's errors are pointed out to one in so obliging
and masterly a manner. Whatever opinion I may have
of Shakspeare, I should think him to blame, if he could
have seen the letter you have done me the honour to write
to me, and yet not conform to the rules you have there
laid down. When he lived, there had not been a Voltaire
both to give laws to the stage, and to show on what good
sense those laws were founded. Your art, Sir, goes still
farther: for you have supported your arguments, without
having recourse to the best authority, your own works. It
was my interest perhaps to defend barbarism and irre-
gularity. A great genius is in the right, on the contrary,
to show that when correctness, nay, when perfection is
demanded, he can still shine, and be himself, whatever
fetters are imposed on him. But I will say no more on
this head; for I am neither so unpolished as to tell you
to your face how much I admire you, nor, though I have
taken the liberty to vindicate Shakspeare against your
criticisms, am I vain enough to think myself an adversary
worthy of you. I am much more proud of receiving laws
from you, than of contesting them. It was bold in me
to dispute with you even before I had the honour of your
acquaintance ; it would be ungrateful now when you have
not only taken notice of me, but forgiven me. The ad-
mirable letter you have been so good as to send me is
1768] To Francois Arouet de Voltaire 207
a proof that you are one of those truly great and rare men
who know at once how to conquer and to pardon.
I have made all the inquiry I could into the story of
M. de Jumonville 1 ; and though your and our accounts
disagree, I own I do not think, Sir, that the strongest
evidence is in our favour. I am told we allow he was
killed by a party of our men, going to the Ohio. Your
countrymen say he was going with a flag of truce. The
commanding officer of our party said M. de Jumonville
was going with hostile intentions ; and that very hostile
orders were found after his death in his pocket. Unless
that officer had proved that he had previous intelligence
of those orders, I doubt he will not be justified by finding
them afterwards ; for I am not at all disposed to believe
that he had the foreknowledge of your hermit 2, who pitched
the old woman's nephew into the river, because ' ce jeune
homme auroit assassine sa tante dans un an.'
I am grieved that such disputes should ever subsist
between two nations who have everything in themselves
to create happiness, and who may find enough in each
other to love and admire. It is your benevolence, Sir,
and your zeal for softening the manners of mankind ; it
is the doctrine of peace and amity which you preach, that
have raised my esteem for you even more than the bright-
ness of your genius. France may claim you in the latter
light, but all nations have a right to call you their
countryman du cote du cceur. It is on the strength of
that connection that I beg you, Sir, to accept the homage
of, Sir,
Your most obedient humble servant,
HOB. WALPOLE.
LETTER 1222. — l See note on letter 2 An allusion to a fable in Voltaire's
to Voltaire of June 21, 1768. Zadig.
208 To Sir Horace Mann [1768
1223. To SIB HOBACE MANN.
Arlington Street, Aug. 4, 1768.
SINCE our riots and tumults, I conclude you are glad
when you do not hear from me ; it is a symptom that we
are tolerably quiet ; for you can have no fear for me, who
live out of the storm. It is true, our mobs are subsided ; —
several of the formidable coal-heavers are hanged. I in-
tended to tell you the wonderful story of Green1, who
defended himself against them all for thirteen hours
together, and killed eighteen or twenty ; but you will see
the trial at large in the papers. You will be charmed with
his heroism, and with the courage and indifference of the
sailor2 who shut himself up with him and assisted him,
and stayed behind in the house coolly when Green was
gone off. It is pretty astonishing, too, that a house should
be besieged for thirteen hours together in the capital, and
no notice taken of it, though a justice of peace passed by
at the time ! Well ! but we have a worse riot, though
a little farther off. Boston — not in Lincolnshire, though
we have had a riot even there, but in New England, is
almost in rebellion s, and two regiments are ordered thither.
Letters are come in, that say the other provinces disapprove ;
and even the soberer persons there. In truth, it is believed
LETTER 1228. — l John Green, an away the sloop's fasts, and conveyed
alehouse keeper in ShadwelL her under the protection of that
2 His name was Gilberthorp. (See ship. The populace having assem-
Ann. Reg. 1768, pp. 22i-7.) bled in great crowds upon this occa-
s On June 10, 1768, ' a great tu- sion, they pelted the Commissioners
mult happened at Boston, in con- of the Customs with stones, broke
sequence of a seizure made by the one of their swords, and treated them
Board of Customs, of a sloop belonging in every respect with the greatest
to one of the principal merchants of outrage ; after which, they attacked
that town. . . . Upon the seizure, the their houses, broke their windows,
officers made a signal to the Bomney and hauled the Collectors' boat to
man-of-war; and her boats were the common, where they burnt it
sent manned and armed, who cut to ashes.' (Ann. Beg. 1768, p. 71.)
1768] To Sir Horace Mann 209
in the City that this tumult will be easily got the better of.
Our navy, too, is in so very formidable plight, that our
neighbours will not much care to interfere. It is tre-
mendous the force we have in the river, at Plymouth and
Portsmouth.
We expect our cousin and brother of Denmark next
week ; — since he will travel, I hope he will improve :
I doubt there is room for it. He is much, I believe, of
the stamp of many youths we have sent you ; but with
so much a better chance, that he has not a travelling tutor
to make him more absurd than he would be of himself.
Poor Denmark, if Oxford or Cambridge had furnished him
with a governor !
We have lost our Pope. Canterbury4 died yesterday.
He had never been a Papist, but almost everything else.
Our Churchmen will not be Catholics ; that stock seems
quite fallen.
At last I have got two black puppies for your Great
Duchess. They are as small as if I had bought them out
of the fairy-tales ; and though I have had them a fortnight,
I think they are rather grown smaller than increased.
I have laid out by different channels for the first ship
that goes to Leghorn, but as yet have not heard of one.
Don't, therefore, drop a hint about them, lest they should
arrive as slowly as your riband. They may die by the
way, they may grow large or ugly, they may get the mange
with salt provisions, &c. I will tell the captain that you
will give him two guineas if they arrive safely, and if they
do, and are beautiful, that the Great Duchess will give him
her hand to kiss. In short, I will do my utmost that you
may be content. I had not, you see, forgotten, but literally,
these were the first I could procure. They are excessively
scarce, especially when very small, as these promise to
4 Dr. Seeker. Walpole.
WALPOLK. VII p
210 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [1768
be ; they are the merriest little mice imaginable ; the bitch,
the smaller of the two. Adieu ! this commission was
the chief purpose of my letter. Possibly you may hear
again soon, if our royal visitor produces anything worth
repeating.
1224. To THE HON. HENBY SEYMOUR CONWAY.
Strawberry Hill, Aug. 9, 1768.
You are very kind, or else you saw into my mind, and
knew that I have been thinking of writing to you, but
had not a pen full of matter. True, I have been in town,
but I am more likely to learn news here ; where at least
we have it like fish, that could not find vent in London.
I saw nothing there but the ruins of loo, Lady Hertford's
cribbage, and Lord Bottetourt, like Patience on a monu-
ment, smiling in grief. He is totally ruined, and quite
charmed. Yet I heartily pity him. To Virginia a he cannot
be indifferent: he must turn their heads somehow or
other. If his graces do not captivate them, he will enrage
them to fury; for I take all his douceur to be enamelled
on iron.
My life is most uniform and void of events, and has
nothing worth repeating. I have not had a soul with me,
but accidental company now and then at dinner. Lady
Holdernesse, Lady Ancram, Lady Mary Coke, Mrs. Ann
Pitt, and Mr. Hume, dined here the day before yesterday.
They were but just gone, when George Selwyn, Lord
Bolingbroke, and Sir William Musgrave, who had been at
Hampton Court, came in, at nine at night, to drink tea.
They told me, what I was very glad to hear, and what
I could not doubt, as they had it from the Duke of Grafton
LETTER 1221. — ' He had recently been appointed Governor of Virginia.
1768] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 211
himself, that Bishop Cornwallis2 goes to Canterbury. I
feared it would be s ; but it seems he had secured all
the backstairs, and not the great stairs. As the last head
of the Church* had been in the midwife line, I suppose
Goody Lyttelton had hopes ; and as he had been president
of an atheistical club, to be sure Warburton did not despair.
I was thinking it would make a good article in the papers,
that three bishops had supped with Nancy Parsons at
Vauxhall, in their way to Lambeth. I am sure *
would have been of the number ; and 8, who told the
Duke of Newcastle, that if his Grace had commanded the
Blues at Minden, they would have behaved better, would
make no scruple to cry up her chastity.
The King of Denmark comes on Thursday ; and I go
to-morrow to see him. It has cost three thousand pounds
to new furnish an apartment for him at St. James's ; and
now he will not go thither, supposing it would be a con-
finement. He is to lodge at bis own minister Dieden's.
Augustus Hervey, thinking it the bd air, is going to sue
for a divorce from the Chudleigh. He asked Lord Boling-
broke t'other day, who was his proctor ? as he would have
asked for his tailor. The nymph has sent him word, that
if he proves her his wife he must pay her debts ; and she
owes sixteen thousand pounds. This obstacle thrown in
the way looks as if she was not sure of being Duchess of
Kingston. The lawyers say it will be no valid plea ; it not
appearing that she was Hervey's wife, and therefore the
tradesmen could not reckon on his paying them.
Yes, it is my Gray, Gray the poet, who is made Pro-
fessor of Modern History; and I believe it is worth five
hundred a year. I knew nothing of it till I saw it in
8Hon.FrederickCornwallis,Biflhop editions.
of Lichfield and Coventry. 4 Thomas Seeker, Archbishop of
3 Names left blank in all the Canterbury. WalpoU.
P 2
212 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [1768
the papers ; but believe it was Stonhewer 5 that obtained
it for him.
Yes, again ; I use a bit of alum half as big as my nail,
once or twice a week, and let it dissolve in my mouth.
I should not think that using it oftener could be prejudicial.
You should inquire; but as you are in more hurry than
I am, you should certainly use it oftener than I do. I wish
I could cure my Lady Ailesbury, too. Ice-water has as-
tonishing effect on my stomach, and removes all pain like
a charm. Pray, though the one's teeth may not be so white
as formerly, nor t'other look in perfect health, let the Danish
King see such good specimens of the last age — though, by
what I hear, he likes nothing but the very present age.
However, sure you will both come and look at him: not
that I believe he is a jot better than the apprentices that flirt
to Epsom in a tim-whisky ; but I want to meet you in town.
I don't very well know what I write, for I hear a caravan
on my stairs, that are come to see the house; Margaret
is chattering, and the dogs barking ; and this I call retire-
ment ! and yet I think it preferable to your visit at Becket 6.
Adieu ! Let me know something more of your motions
before you go to Ireland, which I think a strange journey,
and better compounded for: and when I see you in town
I will settle with you another visit to Park Place.
Yours ever,
HOB. WALPOLE.
8 Richard Stonehewer or Ston- hewer's influence with the Duke of
hewer (d. 1809) ; Under Secretary of Grafton that the Professorship of
State for the Northern Province, Modern History at Cambridge was
1765 ; for the Southern Province, conferred on Gray. Stonhewer be-
1766 ; Auditor of Excise, 1767-72. queathed to Pembroke College, Cam-
Stonhewer was the Duke of Grafton's bridge, Gray's commonplace books
tutor at Cambridge, and was after- and holograph copies of most of his
wards his private secretary and poems, which had been left to him
intimate friend. He was also a close by William Mason.
friend and correspondent of Gray, 6 Lord Barrington's seat, near
whose acquaintance he made at Faringdon, in Berkshire.
Cambridge. It was through Ston-
1768] To George Montagu 213
1225. To GEOBGE MONTAGU.
Arlington Street, Aug. 13, 1768.
I WONDERED, indeed, what was become of you, as I had
offered myself to you so long ago, and you did not accept
my bill ; and now it is payable at such short notice, that
as I cannot find Mr. Chute, nor know where he is, whether
at your brother's or the Vine, I think I had better defer my
visit till the autumn, when you say you will be less hurried,
and more at leisure. I believe I shall go to Ragley the
beginning of September, and possibly on to Lord Stratford's,
and therefore I may call on you, if it will not be incon-
venient to you, on my return.
I came to town to see the Danish King. He is as
diminutive as if he came out of a kernel in the fairy-tales.
He is not ill made, nor weakly made, though so small ;
and though his face is pale and delicate, it is not at all ugly,
yet has a strong cast of the late King, and enough of the
late Prince of Wales to put one upon one's guard not to be
prejudiced in his favour. Still he has more royalty than
folly in his air ; and, considering he is not twenty, is as
well as one expects any king in a puppet-show to be. He
arrived on Thursday, supped and lay at St. James's. Yester-
day evening he was at the Queen's and Carleton House, and
at night at Lady Hertford's assembly. He only takes the
title of altesse, an absurd mezzotermine, but acts King
exceedingly; struts in the circle like a cock-sparrow, or
like the late King, and does the honours of himself very
civilly. There is a favourite too, who seems a complete
jackanapes; a young fellow called Holke, well enough in
his figure, and about three-and-twenty, but who will be
tumbled down long before he is prepared for it. Berns-
dorff l, a Hanoverian, his First Minister, is a decent sensible
LETTER 1225. — 1 Johann Hartwig Ernst (1712-1772), Count von Bernstorf.
214: To Sir Horace Mann [1768
man — I pity him, though I suppose he is envied. From
Lady Hertford's they went to Kanelagh, and to-night go to
the Opera. There had like to have been an untoward cir-
cumstance : the last new opera in the spring, which was
exceedingly pretty, was called I Viaggiaton Eidicoli, and
they were on the point of acting it for this royal traveller.
I am sure you are not sorry that Cornwallis is Arch-
bishop. He is no hypocrite, time-server, nor high-priest.
I little expected so good a choice. Adieu !
Yours ever,
H. W.
1226. To SIR HOEACE MANN.
Arlington Street, Saturday, Aug. 18, 1768.
MY impatience insists on writing to you to-night, though
my letter cannot go till Tuesday. Mr. Mackenzie surprised
and rejoiced me yesterday in the evening, by telling me that
Sir John Dick1 is to carry you the riband of the Bath,
and is to carry it immediately. With my caution and
prudence I do not know whether I should not have waited
to let the badge be actually in Sir John's hands and to be
sure that he himself was set out, for fear of the distance
between intercalicem 2 and an installation — but since Mr.
Mackenzie has actually notified it to you, I cannot hold my
peace ; I must wish you joy ; I must exult, and I must do
justice to your friend. This finishing stroke was given by
Mr. Mackenzie, nor can I claim any merit since Mr. Conway
on his going out, did, at my entreaty, obtain the King's
promise that you should be the next. Mr. Mackenzie settled
it with the Duke of Grafton, and said to me last night, ' I
would carry the riband myself rather than he should not
have it.' In truth, I never saw more earnest friendship ;
LHTTER 1226. — 1 Consul at Genoa, — an allusion to the uncertainties
and then at Leghorn. Walpole. which had attended Mann's receiv-
8 ' Between the cup' (and the lip) ing the Order of the Bath.
1768] To Sir Horace Mann 215
and I congratulate you that you had so powerful an inter-
cessor. I, you see, could get nothing but promises ! —
but since you are content, I shall be so, for seldom does
my satisfaction depend on favour and interest. What little
I had I shun and relinquish every day, and get more and
more out of the world as fast as I can. Death shall never
find me at a levee. Nor will he, I think, see me very
unwilling to go with him, though I have no disappoint-
ments ; but I came into the world so early, and have seen
so much, that I am satisfied. While the comedy lasts,
I sometimes go to it, but indifferent whether Lord Chatham
or Garrick is on the stage, and determined to meddle with
the scuffles of no green-room.
The puppet of the day is the King of Denmark ; in truth,
puppet enough; a very miniature of our late Bang, his
grandfather. White, strutting, dignified, prominent eyes,
galant, and condescending enough to mark that it is con-
descension. He arrived the night before last, is lodged
at St. James's, where he has levees, but goes and is to go
everywhere, to Kanelagh, Vauxhall, Bath, the Lord knows
whither, to France, to Italy ; in short, is to live in a crowd
for these two or three years, that he may learn mankind,
by giving all mankind an opportunity of staring at him.
Well ! but he is not twenty, and is an absolute Prince : sure
subjects are happy when absolute twenty only runs away
from them! He was last night at my Lady Hertford's,
having told my Lord, who by his office3 received him
at St. James's, that having made his first acquaintance
among the men with him, he would be acquainted among
the ladies first with his wife. All the people of fashion
that could be got together at this time of year were there.
He stayed near an hour, behaved very properly, and talked
to the ministers and some of the ladies. His own Prime
3 Of Lord Chamberlain. Walpole.
216 To Sir Horace Mann [1768
Minister, Bernsdorffe, is with him, a decent, sensible man ;
but there is a young favourite too, called Comte de Holke,
who, poor lad ! is quite intoxicated with his favour.
Apropos, did I tell you that Lord Bute is gone abroad,
and, as his friends and the physicians say, never likely
to return? — but he must die, before the generality will
believe he is even ilL You should say something civil
to Mr. Mackenzie on this chapter, and that you hope his
brother is not so ill as report makes him ; and that if
he should think of Italy, you hope he will command .your
house.
Sunday.
The little King was last night at the Opera, and seemed
extremely tired of it, though it was the Buona Figliwla,
played by Lovatini and the Guadagni. He not only seems
to have no ear, but not the least curiosity 4 ; he took no
notice of anything, and was only occupied with acting
royalty, for his assumed principality of Travendahl5 is
scarce at all in question. His court behaves to him with
Eastern submission. What would I have taken to be
Bernsdorffe, bowing and cringing to him at every word
in the face of a new and free nation ! A grave old man,
running round Europe after a chit, for the sake of domineer-
ing over a parcel of beggar Danes, when he himself is
a Hanoverian, and might live at ease on an estate he has
at Mecklenburgh !
Bishop Cornwallis 6 is our new Archbishop ; a quiet,
amiable, good sort of man ; without the hypocrisy of his
predecessor, or the abject soul of most of his brethren. He
had a stroke of a palsy as long ago as when I was at
4 He was extremely short-sighted. dahL Walpole.
Bernsdorffe owned to somebody ' que • Frederic, Bishop of Litchfield
c'etoit le secret d'etat.' Walpole. and brother of the first Earl Corn-
6 As he travelled incognito, he wallis. Walpole,
took the title of Comte de Traren-
1768] To the Earl of Stra/ord 217
Cambridge with him, the remaining appearances of which
will keep up the hopes of our other cardinals.
There is a disagreeable affair at home, resulting from the
disquiets in America. Virginia, though not the most mu-
tinous, contains the best heads and the principal boute-feux.
It was thought necessary that the governor should reside
there. It was known that Sir Jeffery Amherst would not
like that; he must, besides, have superseded Gage7. At
the same time, Lord Bottetourt8, a court favourite, yet
ruined in fortune, was thought of by his friend Lord
Hilsborough. This was mentioned to Sir Jeffery ; with
the offer of a pension. He boggled at the word pension ;
but neither cared to go to his government, nor seemed to
dislike giving it up. On this, the new arrangement was too
hastily made : Amherst refused the pension, and yesterday
threw up his regiment too. His great merit and public
services cast an ugly dye on this affair, though a necessary
one. Both sides seem to have acted too hastily.
The black dogs are not yet set out; I cannot hear of
a vessel going directly to Leghorn. I have written to your
brother (with the news of the riband) to desire he will
employ some of our people at the Custom House to lay out
for the first ship. The dog grows a little ; but sa future
will lie in the palm of your hand. However, do not an-
nounce these black princes till you can introduce them at
court. Adieu !
1227. To THE EAEL OF STRAFFOBD.
Strawberry Hill, Aug. 16, 1768.
As you have been so good, my dear Lord, as twice to take
notice of my letter, I am bound in conscience and gratitude
7 Brother of Lord Gage, and after- mander-in-Chief in North America,
•wards general at Boston in the 8 Norbonne Berkeley, Lord Botte-
beginning of the American war. tourt, Groom of the Bedchamber to
Walpole. — He was at this time Com- George the Third. Walpole.
218 To the Earl of Stra/ord [i768
to try to amuse you with anything new. A royal visitor,
quite fresh, is a real curiosity — by the reception of him,
I do not think many more of the breed will come hither.
He came from Dover in hackney-chaises ; for somehow
or other the Master of the Horse1 happened to be in
Lincolnshire ; and the King's coaches having received no
orders, were too good subjects to go and fetch a stranger
King of their own heads. However, as his Danish Majesty
travels to improve himself for the good of his people, he
will go back extremely enlightened in the arts of govern-
ment and morality, by having learned that crowned heads
may be reduced to ride in a hired chaise.
By another mistake, King George happened to go to
Eichmond about an hour before King Christiern arrived in
London. An hour is exceedingly long; and the distance
to Eichmond still longer : so with all the dispatch that
could possibly be made, King George could not get back to
his capital till next day at noon. Then, as the road from
his closet at St. James's to the King of Denmark's apartment
on t'other side of the palace is about thirty miles, which
posterity, having no conception of the prodigious extent and
magnificence of St. James's, will never believe, it was half
an hour after three before his Danish Majesty's courier
could go, and return to let him know that his good brother
and ally was leaving the palace in which they both were,
in order to receive him at the Queen's palace, which you
know is about a million of snail's paces from St. James's.
Notwithstanding these difficulties and unavoidable delays,
Woden, Thor, Friga, and all the gods that watch over the
Kings of the North, did bring these two invincible monarchs
to each other's embraces about half an hour after five that
same evening. They passed an hour in projecting a family
compact that will regulate the destiny of Europe to latest
LETTER 1227. — 1 The Duke of Ancaster.
1768] To the Earl of Stra/ord 219
posterity: and then, the Fates so willing it, the British
Prince departed for Kichmond, and the Danish potentate
repaired to the widowed mansion of his royal mother-in-
law2, where he poured forth the fullness of his heart in
praises on the lovely bride she had bestowed on him, from
whom nothing but the benefit of his subjects could ever
have torn him. — And here let Calumny blush, who has
aspersed so chaste and faithful a monarch with low amours ;
pretending that he has raised to the honour of a seat in his
sublime council, an artisan of Hamburgh, known only by
repairing the soles of buskins, because that mechanic would,
on no other terms, consent to his fair daughter's being
honoured with majestic embraces. So victorious over his
passions is this young Scipio from the Pole, that though on
Shooter's Hill he fell into an ambush laid for him by an
illustrious Countess, of blood royal herself, his Majesty,
after descending from his car, and courteously greeting
her, again mounted his vehicle, without being one moment
eclipsed from the eyes of the surrounding multitude. — Oh !
mercy on me! I am out of breath — pray let me descend
from my stilts, or I shall send you as fustian and tedious
a History as that of Henry II*. Well then, this great
King is a very little one ; not ugly, nor ill-made. He has
the sublime strut of his grandfather, or of a cock-sparrow ;
and the divine white eyes of all his family by the mother's
2 The Princess Dowager of Wales. afterwards Countess of Sefton).
3 The Countess of Harrington, n6e Again Lady Mary writes under date
Lady Caroline Fitzroy. Lady Mary of Aug. 14, 1768 (voL ii. p. 387) : —
Coke, describing the King's visit in ' I called on Lady Betty. . . . She
her Journal (voL ii. p. 336), writes wants to find out what can be Lady
under date of Sat., Aug. 13, 1768 : — Harrington's view in taking such
'Lady Harrington, it is remarked, pains to make up to the King of
pays him particular attentions. She Denmark. I think I have guessed
met him upon the road, and follow'd it : he is said to be very generous
him from Banelagh to Lady Hert- and to like making presents, and
ford's, where I was told he danced you well know she has been suspected
with Lady Bell ' (Lady Isabella Stan- of inclining to receive them.'
hope, daughter of Lady Harrington, * By Lord Lyttclton,
220 To the Earl of Strafford [1768
side 5. His curiosity seems to have consisted in the original
plan of travelling, for I cannot say he takes notice of any-
thing in particular. His manner is cold and dignified, but
very civil and gracious and proper. The mob adore him
and huzza him ; and so they did the first instant. At
present they begin to know why — for he flings money to
them out of his windows ; and by the end of the week I do
not doubt but they will want to choose him for Middlesex.
His court is extremely well ordered ; for they bow as low
to him at every word as if his name was Sultan Amurat.
You would take his First Minister for only the first of his
slaves. — I hope this example, which they have been so good
as to exhibit at the Opera, will contribute to civilize us.
There is indeed a pert young gentleman, who a little dis-
composes this august ceremonial. His name is Count
Holke, his age three-and-twenty ; and his post answers to
one that we had formerly in England, many ages ago, and
which in our tongue was called the lord high favourite.
Before the Danish monarchs became absolute, the most
refractory of that country used to write libels, called North
Danes, against this great officer ; but that practice has long
since ceased. Count Holke seems rather proud of his favour,
than shy of displaying it.
I hope, my dear Lord, you will be content with my
Danish politics, for I trouble myself with no other. There
is a long history about the Baron de Bottetourt and
Sir Jeffery Amherst, who has resigned his regiment; but
it is nothing to me, nor do I care a straw about it. I am
deep in the anecdotes of the new court ; and if you want
to know more of Count Holke or Count Molke, or the grand
vizier Bernsdorff, or Mynheer Schimmelman, apply to me,
and you shall be satisfied. But what do I talk of? You
will see them yourself. Minerva in the shape of Count
6 His mother was Louisa, daughter of George II.
1768] To the Eev. William Cole 221
Bernsdorff, or out of all shape in the person of the Duchess
of Northumberland, is to conduct Telemachus to York races ;
for can a monarch be perfectly accomplished in the mysteries
of kingcraft, as our Solomon James I called it, unless he is
initiated in the arts of jockeyship? When this northern
star travels towards its own sphere, Lord Hertford will go
to Ragley. I shall go with him ; and, if I can avoid running
foul of the magi that will be thronging from all parts to
worship that star, I will endeavour to call at Wentworth
Castle for a day or two, if it will not be inconvenient ;
I should think it would be about the second week in
September, but your Lordship shall hear again, unless you
should forbid me, who am ever Lady Strafford's and your
Lordship's most faithful humble servant,
HOB. WALPOLE.
1228. To THE EEV. WILLIAM COLE.
Strawberry Hill, Aug. 20, 1768.
You are always heaping so many kindnesses on me, dear
Sir, that I think I must break off all acquaintance with you,
unless I can find some way of returning them. The print
of the Countess of Exeter * is the greatest present to me in
the world : I have been trying for years to no purpose to get
one. Reynolds the painter promised to beg one for me of
a person he knows, but I have never had it. I wanted it
for four different purposes ; as a grandmother (in law, by
the Cranes and Allingtons) ; for my collection of heads ;
for the volumes of prints after pieces in my own collection :
and, above all, for my collection of Faithornes, which, though
so fine, wanted such a capital print — and to this last I have
LETTER 1228.— Wrongly dated by daughter of third Baron Latimer, and
C. Aug 30. first wife of Thomas Cecil, first Earl
1 Dorothy Nevill (d. 1608), second of Exeter.
222 To the Rev. William Cole [1768
preferred it. I give you unbounded thanks for it ; and yet
I feel exceedingly ashamed to rob you. The print of Jane
Shore I had: but as I have such various uses for prints,
I easily bestowed it. It is inserted in my Anecdotes where
her picture is mentioned.
Thank you, too, for all your notices. I intend next
summer to set about the last volume of my Anecdotes, and
to make still further additions to my former volumes, in
which these notes will find their place. I am going to
reprint all my pieces together, and, to my shame be it
spoken, find they will at least make two large quartos.
You, I know, will be partial enough to give them a place
on a shelf; but as I doubt many persons will not be so
favourable, I only think of leaving the edition behind me.
Methinks I should like for your amusement and my own,
that you settled at Ely ; yet I value your health so much
beyond either, that I must advise Milton 2 ; Ely being,
I believe, a very damp, and consequently a very unwhole-
some situation. Pray let me know on which you fix : and
if you do fix this summer, remember the hopes you have
given me of a visit. My summer, that is, my fixed residence
here, lasts till November. My gallery is not only finished,
but I am going on with the round chamber at the end of it ;
and am besides playing with the little garden on the other
side of the road, which was old Franklin's, and by his
death come into my hands. When the round tower is
finished, I propose to draw up a description and catalogue
of the whole house and collection, and I think you will not
dislike lending me your assistance.
Mr. Granger1 of Shiplake is printing his laborious and
curious catalogue of English heads, with an accurate though
1 Cole removed about 1770 to History of England (the work men-
Milton, near Cambridge. tioned above) was published in 1769,
3 Rev. James Granger (1723-1776), and was dedicated to Horace Wai-
Vicar of Shiplake. His Biographical pole.
1768] To Sir Horace Mann 223
succinct account of almost all the persons. It will be a very
valuable and useful work, and I heartily wish may succeed,
though I have some fears. There are of late a small number
of persons who collect English heads, but not enough to
encourage such a work ; I hope the anecdotic part will make
it more known and tasted. It is essential to us, who shall
love the performance, that it should sell ; for he prints no
farther at first than to the end of Charles the First : and, if
this part does not sell well, the bookseller will not purchase
the remainder of the copy, though he gives but an hundred
pounds for this half, and good Mr. Granger is not in circum-
stances to afford printing it himself. I do not compare it
with Dr. Robertson's writings, who has an excellent genius,
with admirable style and manner; and yet I cannot help
thinking that there is a good deal of Scotch puffing and
partiality, when the booksellers have given the Doctor three
thousand pounds for his Life of Charles V, for composing
which he does not pretend to have obtained any new
materials.
I am going into Warwickshire, and I think shall go on to
Lord Strafford's; but propose returning before the end of
September. Yours ever,
aw.
1229. To SIR HORACE MANN.
Arlington Street, Aug. 24, 1768.
WELL, at last, my dear Sir, I hope and believe all your
desires will be accomplished. I came to town again to-day
to meet your brother on the subject of your riband, and
ought to tell you how zealously he has laboured in the
pursuit of it. But it is to Sir John Dick that you are most
obliged : and lucky it has been that he was here. He has
thridded all the mazes of office and encountered all its
dragons. He knows what their kisses mean when they
224: To Sir Horace Mann [1768
want sops ; and will not be rebuffed, as your brother or
I should have been, when they breathe brimstone and
contradiction. It has been lucky, too, that the difficulty
has lately been surmounted of the King refusing to call the
Great Duke brother. Mercy on us, if they had only been
cousins, you could not have been invested — but my good
brother will be happy to do such a job. Give me a full
account of the ceremony, and in what chamber you are
installed — methinks I wish it was by a Medici — I am not
acquainted with these Austrian lada Do you look well in
your riband ? Pink is rather a juvenile colour at your age —
I could wish it were blue !
Come, come, but I forget: your brother says every
necessary thing will be ready before the middle of next
week — and as it cannot rain but it pours, Sir John Dick
has found a ship to convey the two black dogs, and I hope
they will arrive in time to be your esquires.
Well, now I will tell you what you must do. You must
sit for your picture in the robes or with some of the ensigns
of the Bath, and send it to Linton. This will please your
brother, and be a proper memorial. If you could make it
a little historic it would be still better. Could not you beg
the Great Duke to add to the honour, and give you his
portrait in the act of investing you with the order? I should
like this hugeously. It would be such an answer to all
impertinence.
The idle talk of nothing but the King of Denmark ; and
the wise, of Sir Jeffery Amherst. The Princess Amelie
made a superb ball, firework, and supper, for the former
last Friday, at her villa Gunnersbury, at which I was. I
do not tell you the particulars, because I think all those
things are very much alike, and differ but in a few dishes
or a few crackers, more or less. The poor little King is
fatigued to death, and has got the belly-ache. He was to
1768] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 225
have set out on Monday to hear bad Latin verses at Cam-
bridge, and to see the races at York, but is confined at
St. James's.
Sir Jeffery, the newest saint in the Martyrology, has acted
a little too like a saint. When he found his resignation
gave great uneasiness to the court, and that they were
desirous of pacifying him, he made his bill and asked for
an English peerage, an American one, if any should be
made, and a grant of the coal-mines at Quebec, which
may produce nobody knows what, twenty, thirty thousand
pounds a year. The Duke of Grafton told him the King
had been so teased for peerages, that his Majesty had
forbidden him to mention any more requests of that sort ;
and, for the coal-mines, I do not believe that they are
frightened enough to make him a present of such a royalty
— so at present he remains without his regiment or his
disinterestedness. I am sorry your brother-knight demanded
all these tria juncta in uno 1. Adieu ! Write to your brother
and to Mr. Conway to thank them ; I conclude you have
written to Mr. Mackenzie.
1230. To THE HON. HENBY SEYMOUR CONWAY.
Arlington Street, Aug. 25, 1768.
I AM heartily glad you do not go to Ireland ; it is very
well for the Duke of Bedford, who, as George Selwyn says,
is going to be made a mamamouchi1. Your brother sets
out for Kagley on Wednesday next, and that day I intend
to be at Park Place, and from thence shall go to Kagley on
Friday. I shall stay there three or four days, and then go
LETTER 1229. — 1 An allusion to the Moliere's Bourgeois Gentilhomme (Act
motto of the Order of the Bath. iv. Sc. 8). The Dnke of Bedford was
LETTER 1230. — l Mamamouchi was installed as Chancellor of Dublin
the mock Turkish title proposed to University on Sept. 9, 1768.
be conferred upon M. Jourdain in ,
WALPOLE. VII
226 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Oonway [1768
to Lord Stratford's for about as many; and shall call on
George Montagu on my return, so as to be at home in
a fortnight, an infinite absence in my account. I wish you
could join in with any part of this progress, before you go
to worship the treasures that are pouring in upon your
daughter2 by the old Darner's death.
You ask me about the harvest — you might as well ask
me about the funds. I thought the land flowed with milk
and honey. We have had forty showers, but they have not
lasted a minute each ; and as the weather continues warm
and my lawn green,
I bless my stars, and call it luxury*.
They tell me there are very bad accounts from several
colonies, and the papers are full of their remonstances ; but
I never read such things. I am happy to have nothing to
do with them, and glad you have not much more. When
one can do no good, I have no notion of sorrowing oneself
for every calamity that happens in general. One should
lead the life of a coffee-house politician, the most real
patriots that I know, who amble out every morning to
gather matter for lamenting over their country. I leave
mine, like the King of Denmark, to ministers and Provi-
dence ; the latter of which, like an able Chancellor of the
Exchequer to an ignorant or idle First Lord, luckily does the
business. That little Bang has had the gripes, which have
addled his journey to York. I know nothing more of his
motions. His favourite4 is fallen in love with Lady Bel
Stanhope 5, and the monarch himself demanded her for him.
The mother was not averse, but Lady Bel very sensibly
* Hon. Mrs. Darner ; the ' old 5 Lady Isabella Stanhope (d. 1819),
Darner ' was John Darner, her hus- second daughter of second Earl of
band's great-uncle. Harrington ; m. (Dec. 1768) Charles
1 ' Blesses his stars, and thinks it William Molyneux, eighth Viscount
luxury.'— Addison, Goto, i. 4. Molyneux (created Earl of Sefton in
« Count von Holoke. 1769).
1768] To Thomas Warton 227
refused — so unfortunate are favourites the instant they set
their foot in England ! He is jealous of Sackville 6, and
says, ' Ce gros noir n'est pas beau 7 ; ' which implies that he
thinks his own whiteness and pertness charming. Adieu !
I shall see you on Wednesday.
1231. To THOMAS WABTON.
SIR, Strawberry Hill, Sept. 20, 1768.
I returned hither but last night from a tour into York-
shire, Derbyshire, &c., and found your letter, from the date
of which I fear you will have thought me very rude, and
forgetful of the civilities I have received from you. You do
me great justice, Sir, in thinking I should be happy to be of
use to you, if it was in my power; and I may add that
nobody can think what you desire more proper for you than
I do. Your merit is entitled to that and greater distinction,
and were the place in my gift, I should think you honoured
it by accepting it. But, alas ! Sir, my opinion and my
wishes are both very fruitless. I should not deserve the
honour you have done me, if I did not speak sincerely and
frankly to you. I have no interest with the ministry.
I desire none, and have shown by my whole life that
I will cultivate none. I have asked no favour for myself
or my friends. Being now out of Parliament by choice,
I doubt it would not help my interest. Mr. Gray's prefer-
ment gave me great pleasure ; but I assure you upon my
8 John Frederick Sackville (1745- ' The Duke of Dorset came about 9 —
1799), son of Lord John Philip Sack- he has just left York, and goes from
ville, son of first Duke of Dorset ; hence to Lord Derby's. I always
succeeded his uncle as third Duke of have look'd upon him as the most
Dorset in 1769. Captain of the Yeo- dangerous of men, for with that
men of the Guard, 1782-83 ; Am- beauty of his he is so unaffected and
bassador to Paris, 1783-89. has a simplicity and persuasion in
7 In a letter written in 1777 by his manner that makes one account
Georgiana Spencer, Duchess of very easily for the number of women
Devonshire, to her mother Countess he has had in love with him.' (An-
Spencer, she describes Mr. Sackville glo-Saxon Review, vol. i. p. 240.)
(then Duke of Dorset) as follows : —
Q 2
228 To Sir Horace Mann [1708
honour, Sir, that I knew not a word of its being intended
for him, till I saw in the papers that he had kissed hands.
I believe, Sir, you are acquainted with him, and he would
confirm this to you. It would, therefore, Sir, be giving
myself an air of importance which I have not, if I pretended
I could either serve you, or would try to serve you in this
case ; I had much rather you should know how insignificant
I am, than have you think me either vain of favour I have
not, or indifferent to your interest. I am so far from it,
that I will tell you what I think might be a method of
succeeding, though I must beg you not to mention my
name in it in any shape. Mr. Stonhewer is a great favourite
of the Duke of Grafton, and the person that recommended
Mr. Gray. If you are acquainted with Mr. Stonhewer, who
is a very worthy man, he might possibly be inclined to
name you to the Duke, if the place is not promised, nor
he unwilling to recommend a second time. Lord Spencer,
or Lord Villiers, if you know either of them, might be
useful too. Excuse my hinting these things, but I should
be happy to promote such merit, Sir, as yours, — you will
interpret them as marks of the regard with which I am, Sir,
Your obedient humble servant,
HORACE WALPOLE.
P.S. The Duke of Marlborough might assist you, Sir, too.
1232. To SIB HORACE MANN.
Strawberry Hill, Sept. 22, 1768.
I AM just returned hither from an expedition of visits and
curiosity into Warwickshire, Yorkshire, and other counties.
I stayed but one night in town, and could see nobody that
could inform me whether Sir John Dick and your cap and
feathers are set out, but I conclude so, and hope the first
news from Florence will be a paragraph in the Gazette with
1768] To Sir Horace Mann 229
an account of the Great Duke investing you. The black
infants1 I found were embarked, and I hope will have
a prosperous voyage.
I can tell you nothing but what you will see in the papers,
of the King of Denmark hurrying from one corner of
England to the other, without seeing anything distinctly,
fatiguing himself, breaking his chaise, going tired to bed
in inns, and getting up to show himself to the mob at the
window. I believe that he is a very silly lad, but the mob
adore him, though he has neither done nor said anything
worth repeating ; but he gives them an opportunity of
getting together, of staring, and of making foolish observa-
tions. Then the newspapers talk their own language, and
call him a great personage ; and a great personage that comes
so often in their way, seems almost one of themselves raised
to the throne. At the play of The Provoked Wife, he clapped
whenever there was a sentence against matrimony ; a very
civil proceeding, when his wife is an English princess!
The other great personage 2 has at last given him a ball ;
my Lord Mayor gives him another to-morrow, and he
himself is to give a masquerade to all the world at
Kanelagh. He asked the King's leave, who said he could
refuse nothing to him; the bishops will call this giving
an earthquake ; but if they would come when bishops call,
the Bishop of Rome would have fetched forty by this time.
Our right reverend fathers have made but a bad choice of
their weapon in such a cold damp climate ; and yet they
were in the right to fix on a sin that they cannot commit
themselves. The little King has sent five hundred tickets
into the City ; I don't know how many to Oxford, and to
everybody that has banqueted him. Between him and
Sir Jeffery Amherst, poor Wilkes is entirely forgotten :
LETTER 1232. — l See letters to Mann of Aug. 4 and Aug. 13, 1768.
2 The King.
230 To Lady Mary Coke [1768
but nobody should complain, for we take care to wear
every subject threadbare.
The great war 8 between the Duke of Portland and Sir
James Lowther is said to be compromised : it is certain
that the latter is to be a Viscount, which looks like his
giving up the elections contested between them.
I have had such another misfortune as I had last year
in poor Lady Suffolk. My Lady Hervey *, one of my great
friends, died in my absence. She is a great loss to several
persons ; her house was one of the most agreeable in
London ; and her own friendliness, good breeding, and
amiable temper, had attached all that knew her. Her
sufferings, with the gout and rheumatism, were terrible,
and yet never could affect her patience, or divert her
attention to her friends.
I must beg you to transmit the enclosed to Mr. Hamilton,
our minister at Naples, as I am not sure that he received
one that I wrote to him some time ago by the post.
1233. To LADY MAEY COKE.
[Oct. 1768.]
IT is not new for me, dear Madam, to be obliged to you,
nor I hope for me to think of anything that I can hope
would be agreeable to your Ladyship. I am very sorry
you will not accept the ticket, as you would be so great an
ornament to the masquerade, and I am infinitely obliged
for the beautiful box. I was at Mrs. Harris's last night, but
am not to be there to-night ; but I shall endeavour to find
an opportunity of seeing your Ladyship as soon as I can.
8 An election contest. Sir James three succeeding Earls, George Wil-
was not created a peer at that time. liam, Augustus, and Frederick.
Walpole. Walpole.
* Mary Lepelle, widow of John, LETTER 1233. — Not in C. ; reprinted
Lord Hervey, eldest son of the first from Letters and Journals of Lady
Earl of Bristol, and mother of the Mary Coke, voL iii. p. xxiii.
1768] To the Earl of Straffbrd 231
1234. To THE EAEL OP STEAFFOED.
Strawberry Hill, Monday, Oct. 10, 1768.
I GIVE you a thousand thanks, my dear Lord, for the
account of the ball at Welbeck. I shall not be able to repay
it with a relation of the masquerade to-night ; for I have
been confined here this week with the gout in my feet,
and have not stirred off my bed or couch since Tuesday.
I was to have gone to the great ball at Sion 1 on Friday, for
which a new road, paddock, and bridge were made, as other
folks make a dessert. I conclude Lady Mary2 has, and
will tell you of all these pomps, which health thinks so
serious, and sickness with her grave face tells one are so
idle. Sickness may make me moralize, but I assure you she
does not want humour. She has diverted me extremely with
drawing a comparison between the repose (to call neglect
by its dignified name) which I have enjoyed in this fit, and
the great anxiety in which the whole world was when I had
the last gout, three years ago — you remember my friends
were then coming into power. Lord Weymouth was so
good as to call at least once every day, and inquire after me ;
and the foreign ministers insisted that I should give them
the satisfaction of seeing me, that they might tranquillize
their sovereigns with the certainty of my not being in any
danger. The Duke and Duchess of Newcastle were so
kind, though very nervous themselves, as to send messen-
gers and long messages every day from Claremont. I cannot
say this fit has alarmed Europe quite so much. I heard
the bell ring at the gate, and asked with much majesty
if it was the Duke of Newcastle had sent ? ' No, Sir, it
was only the butcher's boy.' The butcher's boy is, indeed,
the only courier I have had. Neither the King of France
LETTER 1234. — * The villa of the 2 Lady Mary Coke, sister to Lady
Duke of Northumberland near Brent- Strafford. Walpole.
ford. Walpole.
232 To Sir Horace Mann [1768
nor King of Spain appears to be under the least concern
about me.
My dear Lord, I have had so many of these transitions
in my life, that you will not wonder they divert me more
than a masquerade. I am ready to say to most people,
' Mask, I know you.' I wish I might choose their dresses !
When I have the honour of seeing Lady Strafford, I shall
beseech her to tell me all the news ; for I am too nigh and
too far to know any. Adieu, my dear Lord !
Yours most sincerely,
HOE. WALPOLE.
1235. To SIB HOEACE MANN.
Strawberry Hill, Oct. 24, 1768.
I HAVE been confined these three weeks with the gout in
both feet, and am still lying upon my couch ; yet I must
oblige myself to write you a few lines, as the resignation of
Lord Chatham will have excited your curiosity. In truth,
I am little able to satisfy it; for besides having entirely
bidden adieu to politics, I am here, ten miles from town,
which is a thousand miles from truth. To the King, I am
told Lord Chatham pleaded want of health, and despair of
it : but to the Duke of Grafton he complained of the treat-
ment of Sir Jeffery Amherst, and the intended removal of
Lord Shelburne — the last, an unwise measure of the last
accession to the administration. I do not see why want of
health should have dictated this step more just now than at
any moment for this last year. It being timed too at the
eve of the Parliament has a suspicious look. As I have
always doubted of the reality of his disorder, this proceed-
ing does not abate my suspicion, yet there is in this conduct
as in all his preceding, something unaccountable. No recon-
ciliation seems to have taken place with his family : he is as
1768} To Miss Anne Pitt 233
extravagantly profuse as ever, and I believe almost as much
distressed. Lord Shelburne protested he had not received the
slightest intimation of Lord Chatham's intention, and yet has
since resigned himself. The common report, for I really
know nothing of the matter, is, that this nail started will not
unpeg the administration. Lord Kochford is Secretary of
State, but Lord Weymouth goes into Lord Shelburne's
province. Who is to be Privy Seal I do not know.
We have rumours here that the rebuffs in Corsica l have
shaken the Duke of Choiseul's credit considerably, which
tottered before by the King's apprehension of that invasion
producing a war. Our newspapers have even disgraced the
Duke, and given him the Duke of Nivernois for successor 2 ;
I do not wish them a more superficial minister than the
latter. He is a namby-pamby kind of pedant, with a peevish
petite sante, and much more fit to preside over one of your
foolish Italian academies than to manage the affairs of
a great kingdom.
Adieu ! I write in such an uneasy posture that you will
excuse my saying no more.
1236. To Miss ANNE PITT.
Strawberry Hill, Oct. 28, 1768.
I GIVE you a thousand thanks, dear Madam, for your
very kind note : it gave me great pleasure, as I own I have
been wishing, ever since I have been out of pain, for some
opportunity of telling you how happy I should be to see
you ; the weather has been so bad, that I could not be
unreasonable enough to ask that favour directly, and as for
LETTER 1235. — 1 Fighting was going LETTER 1236. — Not in C. ; reprint-
on at this time between the French ed from Hist. MSS. Comm., 13th
and Corsicans. Report, Appendix, Part III, yoL i.
2 Choiseul remained in power until p. 158.
1770.
234 To Sir Horace Mann [1768
this week past I have been on the point of going to town,
I restrained my impatience and waited till it would give
your charity less trouble. I am so much mended, that
I shall certainly be in Arlington Street to-morrow or
Sunday at farthest, and then I will not resign 1 the honour
you intend me, but shall be veiy glad of every idle quarter
of an hour you have to bestow on me, for I think it will
be some time before I shall be able to dance an allemande
with my Lady Milton.
1237. To SIR HORACE MANN.
Arlington Street, Nov. 3, 1768.
I DID receive your letter from Mr. Larpent, as I wrote
you word ; but I made no answer to one part (if I under-
stand rightly what you mean) for your sake ; because it is
a subject * on which, my dear Sir, you should not talk to
me. Indeed, it is so delicate, that I would wish you not to
talk, act, or write upon it, but according to the directions
you receive. You cannot be wrong so, and it may be
unsafe for you to step a step out of that track. You know
how very kindly I mean this, and may trust me who know
the ground here better than you can do. If I mistake,
you will excuse me, but I protest I do not recollect any-
thing in which you interest yourself, except what I mean,
on which I have not made you constant answers.
I wish you joy on the consummation of your wishes,
and am pleased with the honours showered on you upon
that occasion. Mr. Conway did receive your letter, and is
happy to have contributed to your satisfaction.
i An allusion to the resignation of Corsica by France; but he had
of Miss Pitt's brother, the Earl of alluded to the affairs of his own
Chatham. family, as will appear by a subse-
LETTKK 1237.— ^ Mr. W. thought quent letter. Walpole.
Sir H. Mann meaued the invasion
1768] To Sir Horace Mann 235
Lord Chatham, if one may judge by symptoms, is not
only peaceable, but has reason to be pleased. The Privy
Seal is given to his friend Lord Bristol 2, and not only the
Chancellor 8, but Mr. James Greuville remain in place ;
a complexion of circumstances that place Lord Shelburne
in an awkward situation. Till to-day it was even believed
that the latter's friend, Colonel Barre, would retain his
place, but to-day I hear that he will resign it. Lord
Harcourt is likely to go ambassador to Paris, and they say
Lord Charles Spencer is to succeed him as Chamberlain to
the Queen. Colonel Fitzroy (the Duke of Grafton's brother)
is made her Vice-Chamberlain ; — a clear proof of the favour
of the Duke.
The Parliament is to meet on Tuesday next ; and a busy
session it must be. The turbulent temper of Boston, of
which you will see the full accounts in all the papers, is
a disagreeable prospect. Corsica will not fail to be talked
of, and the heat of the late elections must rekindle as the
petitions come to be heard. How happy do I feel to be
quite out of the whirlwind ! How I should feel the remains
of my gout if I knew I was to be hurried down to the
House of Commons ! The town will not want even private
amusement, which must pass too through the Parliamentary
channel. I mean the Duke of Grafton's divorce ; an event
I am very sorry for, as I wish well to both parties.
Are the Black Prince and Princess not arrived yet?
I am impatient to hear of their landing, and to learn the
present state of their charms. I am glad they are not
parrots, and will not be able to jabber what they hear on
shipboard, to the great scandal of an Austrian court.
Adieu !
2 George William Hervey, second s Charles Pratt, Lord Camden.
Earl of Bristol of tliat family. Wai- Walpole.
pole.
236 To George Montagu [i?63
1238. To GEORGE MONTAGU.
Arlington Street, Nov. 10, 1768.
I HAVE not received the cheese, but I thank you as much
beforehand. I have been laid up with a fit of the gout in
both feet and a knee ; at Strawberry for an entire month,
and eight days here ; I took the air for the first time the
day before yesterday, and am, considering, surprisingly
recovered by the assistance of the bootikins and my own
perseverance in drinking water. I moulted my stick to-day,
and have no complaint but weakness left. The fit came
just in time to augment my felicity in having quitted
Parliament. I do not find it so uncomfortable to grow old,
when one is not obliged to expose oneself in public.
I neither rejoice nor am sorry at your being accommo-
dated in your new habitation. It has long been plain to
me that you choose to bury yourself in the ugliest spot you
can find, at a distance from almost all your acquaintance ;
so I give it up ; and then I am glad you are pleased.
Nothing is stirring but politics, and chiefly the worst kind
of politics, elections. I trouble myself with no sort, but
seek to pass what days the gout leaves me or bestows on
me, as quietly as I can. I do not wonder at others, because
I doubt I am more singular than they are ; and what makes
me happy would probably not make them so. My best
compliments to your brother ; I shall be glad to see you
both when you come ; though for you, you don't care how
little time you pass with your friends. Yet I am, and ever
shall be,
Yours most sincerely,
H. WALPOLE.
1768] To George Montagu 237
1239. To GEOBGE MONTAGU.
Arlington Street, Nov. 15, 1768.
You cannot wonder when I receive such kind letters from
you, that I am vexed our intimacy should be reduced almost
to those letters. It is selfish to complain, when you give
me such good reasons for your system : but I grow old ;
and the less time we have to live together, the more I feel
a separation from a person I love so well ; and that reflection
furnishes me with arguments in vindication of my peevish-
ness. Methinks, though the contrary is true in practice,
prudence should be the attribute of youth, not of years.
When we approach to the last gate of life, what does it
signify to provide for new furnishing one's house ? Youth
should have all those cares — indeed, charming youth is
better employed. It leaves foresight to those that have
little occasion for it. You and I have both done with the
world, the busy world, and therefore I would smile with
you over what we have both seen of it — and luckily we can
smile both, for we have quitted it willingly, not from disgust
nor mortifications. However, I do not pretend to combat
your reasons, much less would I draw you to town a moment
sooner than it is convenient to you, though I shall never
forget your offering it. Nay, it is not so much in town that
I wish we were nearer, as in the country. Unless one lives
exactly in the same set of company, one is not much the
better for one's friends being in London. I that talk of
giving up the world, have only given up the troubles of it
— as far as that is possible. I should speak more properly
in saying that I have retired out of the world into London.
I always intend to place some months between me and the
moroseness of retirement. We are not made for solitude.
It gives us prejudices ; it indulges us in our own humours,
and at last we cannot live without them.
238 To Sir Horace Mann [1768
My gout is quite gone ; and if I had a mind to disguise its
remains, I could walk very gracefully — except on going down-
stairs. Happily it is not the fashion to hand anybody — the
nymph and I should soon be at the bottom.
Your old cousin Newcastle l is going ; he has had a stroke
of a palsy, and they think will not last two days. I hope
he is not sensible, as I doubt he would be too averse to his
situation. Poor man ! he is not like my late amiable friend,
Lady Hervey ! two days before she died, she wrote to her
son Bristol these words : ' I feel my dissolution coming on —
but I have no pain — what can an old woman desire more ? '
This was consonant to her usual propriety— yes, propriety
is grace ; and thus everybody may be graceful, when other
graces are fled — Oh, but you will cry, is not this a contra-
diction to the former part of your letter ? Prudence is one
of the graces of age — why yes, I do not know but it may
be — and yet I don't know how ; 'tis a musty quality ; one
hates to allow it to be a grace — come, at least it is only like
that one of the Graces that hides her face. She has not the
openness of the other two. In short, I have ever been so
imprudent, that though I have much corrected myself, I am
not at all vain of such merit. I have purchased it for much
more than it was worth.
I wish you joy of Lord Guilford's amendment ; and always
take a full part in your satisfaction or sorrow. Adieu !
Yours ever,
H. WALPOLE.
1240. To SIR HORACE MANN.
Arlington Street, Nov. 18, 1768.
As there has been no event since the Parliament met,
I did not write to you any account of it. Being happily
LETTER 1239.— ' The Duke of Newcastle died on Nov. 17, 1768.
1768] To Sir Horace Mann 239
quit of it, I do not burthen my memory with inquiring into
details. If any genius should arise, or promise to arise, one
is sure enough of hearing it without curiosity. By the
modesty of the opposition, and by their little impatience
for a division, it is plain they were conscious of the weak-
ness of their numbers. From their conduct yesterday, it is
certain that they have more weaknesses than one. They
moved for all papers, with all powers, in which any mention
has been made of Corsica. When the strength of a new
Parliament is not known, methinks it were wise, by a
plausible question to draw in as many of the lookers out, at
least of the rational and the well meaning, as possible. In
lieu of that, they frame a question that required a very
opponent stomach to digest. Accordingly, the motion was
rejected by 230 to 84 — and thus a fluctuating majority be-
comes a stable one — for every interested man will now be
in a hurry to be the two hundred and thirty-first. It was
a great day for the administration, a better for the Duke of
Choiseul, a bad one for this country : for, whatever the
ministry may incline or wish to do, France will look on
this vote as a decision not to quarrel for Corsica. She may
determine to pursue a scheme she was ready to abandon ;
and we may be at last drawn in to save Corsica, when it
might have been saved without our interfering.
The Duke of Newcastle is dead, of a stroke of a palsy. He
had given up politics ever since — his illness a few months
ago ! It does not make the least alteration of any kind.
So the Turks have opened their temple of Janus l ! To
how many more temples it will communicate, who can tell ?
As France persuaded them to unlock it, no doubt she has
false keys to other gates. The Duke of Choiseul totters ;
but sometimes our administration props him, and some-
times our opposition.
LETTER 1240. — a War had been declared between Turkey and Russia.
240 To George Montagu [1768
Lord Chatham has got a regular fit of the gout after so
long an intermission. Many think this indicates his re-
appearance. If anything can reproduce him on the stage,
the gout and the smell of war can. He might not like to
make it while minister. There is nothing to check him,
when out of place.
Adieu ! for I have other letters to write, and am in haste
to go out. I have seen with satisfaction your glories in the
Gazette.
1241. To SIE HOEACE MANN.
Arlington Street, Nov. 25, 1768.
THE young gentleman who will deliver this to you is the
son of Lord Kaimes *, a very learned and ingenious gentleman
in Scotland, well known by his works. I have been desired
to add my recommendation to these titles, though they want
none ; and though you want no incitement to be obliging
and kind to your countrymen. It is indeed defrauding you
of that merit, if I occasion the least part of it to be imputed
to my solicitation. However, I know it is a pleasure to you
to oblige me, and therefore I beg you will indulge your pro-
pensity ; and you are sure I shall acknowledge your friend-
ship, while you are pleasing yourself by exerting your good
breeding and good offices in favour of this gentleman.
1242. To GEOEGE MONTAGU.
Arlington Street, Dec. 1, 1768.
I LIKE your letter, and have been looking at my next door
but one 1. The ground-story is built, and the side walls will
certainly be raised another floor, before you think of arriving.
LETTER 1241. — l Henry Home LETTER 1242. — l Montagu contem-
(1696-1782), Lord Kames, Lord of the plated taking lodgings in Arlington
Justiciary Court. His son was George Street.
Home-Drummond (d, 1819).
1768], To George Montagu 241
I fear nothing for you but the noise of workmen, and of this
street in front and Piccadilly on the other side. If you can
bear such a constant hammering and hurricane, it will
rejoice me to have you so near me ; and then I think I must
see you oftener than I have done these ten years. Nothing
can be more dignified than this position. From my earliest
memory Arlington Street has been the ministerial street.
The Duke of Grafton is actually coming into the house of
Mr. Pelham, which my Lord President2 is quitting, and
which occupies too the ground on which my father lived ;
and Lord Weymouth has just taken the Duke of Dorset's —
yet you and I, I doubt, shall always live on the wrong side
of the way !
Lord Chatham is reconciled to Lord Temple and George
Grenville. The second is in great spirits on the occasion ;
and yet gives out that Lord Chatham earnestly solicited it.
The insignificant Lepidus patronizes Antony, and is sued to
by Augustus ! Still do I doubt whether Augustus will ever
come forth again. Is this a peace patched up by Livia for
the sake of her children, seeing the imbecility of her husband?
or is Augustus to own he has been acting a changeling, like
the first Brutus, for near two years? I do not know; I
remain in doubt.
Wilkes has struck an artful stroke. The ministers, devoid
of all management in the House of Commons, consented that
he should be heard at the bar of the House, and appointed
to-morrow, forgetting the election for Middlesex is to come
on next Thursday. One would think they were impatient
to advance the riots. Last Monday Wilkes demanded to
examine Lord Temple: when that was granted, he asked
for Lord Sandwich and Lord March. As the first had not
been refused, the others could not. The Lords were adjourned
till to-day — and, I suppose, are now sitting on this perplexing
2 Earl Gower.
WALPOLE. VII JJ
242 To Sir Horace Mann [1768
demand. If Lord Temple desires to go to the bar of the
Commons, and the two others desire to be excused, it will
be difficult for the Lords to know what to do. Sandwich is
frightened out of his senses, and March does not like it.
Well ! this will cure ministers and great lords of being so
flippant in dirty tyranny, when they see they may be worried
for it four years afterwards.
The Commons, I suppose, are at this minute as hotly
engaged on the Cumberland election between Sir James
Lowther and the Duke of Portland — Oh! how delightful
and comfortable to be sitting quietly here, and scribbling to
you, perfectly indifferent about both Houses !
You will just escape having your brains beaten out, by
not coming this fortnight. The Middlesex election will be
over. Adieu ! Yours ever,
H. W.
1243. To SIR HOEACE MANN.
Arlington Street, Dec. 2, 1768.
IF I understand what you refer to in your letter through
Mr. Larpent, I not only received, but have lately given you
a reason why from prudence on your account I did not refer
to it. If I misunderstand you, you will be so good as to
contrive to give me a new hint : but I cannot recollect any
other subject on which I have not answered. Your letters
I have left at Strawberry, and cannot go thither for two
reasons, to examine the dates. The first is, that as the
Middlesex. election is to be at Brentford on Thursday, I do
not care to go through that riotous town ; and the second, that
the waters are so out and the river so high, that it is not
easy to cross the Thames at Kichmond.
Yes, that election is to be on Thursday, and every manage-
ment and every mismanagement has been used to make it
1768] To Sir Horace Mann 243
produce more tumults. The House of Commons forgetting
the day, ordered Wilkes to appear at their bar to-day ; and
when they had granted that, he demanded to call Lord
Temple, Lord Sandwich, and Lord March *, to be examined
by him. As the demand was artfully made for the first
singly, nobody cared, and the House allowed it. Then he
asked for the two others. When the first had been granted,
there could be no pretence for refusing the others. The two
have been in a horrid anxiety, concluding Lord Temple would
desire to go ; but yesterday, when the Commons sent to the
Lords to ask leave for the appearance of all three, Lord
Temple was not in the House, and, I hear, disclaims having
had any connection with Wilkes for some time. The Lords
replied, they would return an answer by their own
messengers ; and have postponed the consideration to
Monday. In the meantime they are beginning to exert
themselves to prevent riots, and yesterday committed a
solicitor3 to Newgate for prevarication, when he was
examined for having prosecuted a justice of peace, who
took up a rioter last spring by the orders of their House.
The other House have also put off the appearance of Wilkes
before them till after the Middlesex election. These steps
do not look favourably for him.
In the meantime, new game is started. Lord Chatham is
reconciled to Lord Temple and Mr. Grenville. Impatience
longs to know whether the first will reappear again. His
friends say that he has a most favourable fit of the gout,
and will certainly come forth after Christmas3. Others,
that this reconciliation was patched up by Lady Chatham,
LETTER 1243. — J William Douglas, 8 The Earl of Chatham reappeared
Earl of March and Buglen, after- at court in July 1769, and in the
wards Duke of Queensberry. He had House of Lords in January 1770.
encouraged Kidgell to inform against The attack of gout mentioned by
Wilkes's Essay on Woman. Walpole. Walpole greatly improved his health.
2 His name was Ayliffe.
R 2
244 To Sir Horace Mann [1768
from a sense of his imbecility, and desire of putting her
children under the protection of her brothers. I do not
know what to think. His resignation, followed directly by
a fit of the gout, looks suspicious. And yet, has he been
acting madness for two years together ? Will his appearance
have any effect, if he does produce himself? and how are he
and Mr. Grenville to marry their incompatible politics to-
gether. Oh, say the last dozen years, what trouble is there
in reconciling inconsistencies ? or, suppose he is mad, — is he
a worse politician for that ? Nullum magnum ingenium sine
mixtura dementias. A mad minister and a mad people must
conquer the world.
Your neighbour Paoli, I see, goes on grinding the French
to powder. The Due de Choiseul has a still worse enemy
at home. There is a Mademoiselle L'Ange4, now Countess
de Barre, who has mounted from the dregs of her profession
to the zenith of it, and gained an ascendant that all the
duchesses and beauties of Versailles could not attain. Her
husband has long been the pimp of Marshal Richelieu, and
married this nymph in order to pave her way to favour.
She gets ground every day, and probably will save Paoli
before my Lord Chatham steps in to his assistance.
We have a new Eussian Ambassador °, who is to be mag-
nificence itself. He is wondrously civil, and copious of
words. He treated me the other night with a pompous
relation of his sovereign lady's heroism. I never doubted
her courage. She sent for Dr. Dimsdale 6 ; would have no
trial made on any person of her own age and corpulence:
went into the country with her usual company, swore
Dimsdale to secrecy, and you may swear that he kept his
4 Marie Jeanne Gomard Van- the Empress to inoculate herself and
bernier, Comtesse du Barry, guillo- her son the Grand Duke Paul.
iined in 1793. Dimsdale was created a Baron on
6 Count Czernichew. the success of the operations, and
' Dr. Thomas Dimsdale (1712- received a pension and a grant of
1800). He was invited to Russia by ten thousand pounds.
1768] To Sir Horace Mann 245
oath to such a lioness. She was inoculated, dined, supped,
and walked out in public, and never disappeared but one
day ; had a few on her face, and many on her body, which
last I suppose she swore Orloff likewise not to tell. She has
now inoculated her son. I wonder she did not, out of
magnanimity, try the experiment on him first.
Your brother has had a terrible fit of the gout in his
head and all over him. I had a note from him to-day, and
he is better. I am recovered so entirely as to be stronger
on my feet than before: but I have more resolution, and
never touch tea or wine. I preach in vain — the Jesuits are
fallen, but the time is not come for rooting our physicians.
These rogues persuade people that the bootikins are fatal.
They now assert that my friend Lady Hervey, who died
of a diarrhoea, was killed by the bootikins which she wore
for the gout All they can do is to keep up perspiration,
which everybody knows is the only thing that can be done
for the gout. Mr. Chute wears them every night, and walks
better than he did seven years ago — but there is a charm in
nonsense that nothing can resist ! It is the only talent that
preaches and prescribes with success ! A fool, educated in
the school of a knave, makes a renowned general, arch-
bishop, chancellor, or physician. What repeal of laws and
burning of books there would be, if the world for one age
had nothing in it but men of sense ! — for they would be
forced to be honest if there were no fools. Adieu ! my
last paragraphs would be treason and heresy in every country
upon earth.
1244. To SIB HOEACE MANN.
Arlington Street, Dec. 20, 1768.
I BEG your pardon, not only for my mistake, but for not
having answered your inquiry about your own family affairs,
246 To Sir Horace Mann [1768
which I really thought I had done. Your brother Gal
always talked to me as if there was a firm entail in your
father's will ; and if there was, your eldest brother cannot
cut it off, as he has no legitimate son of age. I hope his
threat to your nephew was merely to alarm him, and
without a power to execute it. It could easily be seen in
the will, but I believe it best not to inquire while there is no
necessity, lest your brother should hear of it. Your nephew,
I doubt, will provoke him, that is, give him an excuse to do
what he would like to do, in favour of his own children.
We are as much occupied as we were four years ago with
Wilkes. His spirit, which the Scotch call impudence, and
the gods confidence, rises every day. He was very near
embroiling the two Houses on his demand of the three
lords, which I think I mentioned in my last. Mr. Grenville
obtained to have Lord Temple omitted ; the Lords would
not oblige the two others to appear, but they have offered
it ; and if ever his affair comes on, which I doubt, will
submit to go to the House of Commons. He has desired
twice to be heard himself by the Lords, which they have
rejected. Since that, he has behaved with new insolence.
A printer being taken up by the House of Lords for printing
a letter of Lord Weymouth, written three weeks before the
affair in St. George's Fields, in which he offered soldiers to
the civil magistrate in case of need, and to which a com-
mentary was prefixed that charged the administration with
a premeditated design of blood ; the printer confessed, by
the authority of Wilkes himself, that both letter and
remarks had been transmitted to the press by Wilkes, who
still not content, has by hand-bills assumed to himself the
honour of many more such publications. The Lords, though
enraged, had the prudence not to care to examine him him-
self, attended as he might be by a mob, and to recollect that
he is yet a member of the other House, to which they sent
1768] To Sir Horace Mann 247
their complaint; a piece of personal discretion, that was
none of the wisest, as it was flinging combustible matter
into much the more combustible assembly of the two. It
happened accordingly, that more fault was found with the
letter than with the comment ; and after variety of opinions,
it was yesterday resolved to hear Wilkes at their bar on the
27th of January; there still being blindness enough not to
perceive that the oftener this incendiary is touched, the
more he gains ground.
He has had a new triumph. The day of the election for
Middlesex the poll had continued peaceable till two o'clock,
when a mob broke in, drove everybody out of the town,
maimed and wounded several, and really occasioned the
death of two persons. At first the slaughter was thought
more considerable. This mob seems to have been hired by
Sir William Beauchamp Proctor for defence, but, by folly
or ill-management, proved the sole aggressors. The just
scandal given by that proceeding has lost him the election,
and Wilkes's counsel and nominee, Serjeant Glynn, was
chosen a week afterwards by a large majority. Thus, after
a persecution of four years, Wilkes, in prison, names the
representatives for Middlesex !
These things must sound strange in Tuscan ears ; but the
events in a free state are as unlike those in an absolute
government as the kinds of government themselves are
unlike. The times wear a very tempestuous aspect, and
while there is a singular want both of abilities and prudence,
there is no want of mischievous intentions. Luckily,
America is quiet ; France, poor, foiled, and disgraced. In
truth, I do not know whether anything could restore
harmony at home so soon as a foreign war, for which we
are at least better prepared than she is. A war would
quite restore Lord Chatham's faculties, when he could have
an opportunity of being mad on a larger scale.
248 To Sir Horace Mann [1768
We are in constant expectation of hearing the Due de
Choiseul's fall. The Comtesse de Barr6 maintains her
ground, and they say will be presented to the Mesdames
as soon as the Queen's mourning is over. This decency is
delightful ! While his wife lived, the King kept his mis-
tresses openly ; now a new one is not to be declared, while
the court still wears black and white silks for the Queen !
The Due d'Aiguillon is talked of as Choiseul's successor.
At fifty-eight or nine, his Majesty picks up a bunter, and
gives her leave to change the administration. I think he
should not be called the well-beloved, but the wellrbeloving.
I never saw your new residence, Pisa, but have a notion
it is a charming place ; but, how German ! to take an
aversion to Florence ! the loveliest town upon earth ! Has
your little prince no eyes for pictures, statues, buildings,
prospects ? Where could one like to reign, if not there ?
For your sake, I still wish the black dogs may prove hand-
some, else I should not care if they were mere turnspits.
Tuesday, 23rd.
They talk of strange proceedings, and that prosecutions
for murder are to be commenced against the Duke of
Northumberland and Sir William Beauchamp, who are
taxed with having hired the mob at Brentford. The Houses
are adjourned for three weeks ; in which time I doubt the
oppositions will be more awake than the ministers. I rejoice
daily and weekly that I have nothing to do with this scene
of combustion. Adieu I
1245. To SDB HOEACE MANN.
Strawberry Hill, Jan. 14, 1769.
WHISTON, and such prophecy-mongers, were very unlucky
to die before the present era. They vented their foolish
To Sir Horace Mann 249
knowledge and foolish conjectures in foretelling the down-
fall of the Pope and Turk, when there was not the least
ground for such surmises. There is not a verse in the
Eevelations that would not set up a prophet now. Your
neighbour, the whore of Babylon, is almost reduced to her
own bawdy house, and I have as little doubt that the
Russians will give a good account of the Grand Signor. Are
not you diverted with his proposing to the Catholics of
Poland to turn Mahometans? It is plain that he thinks
the Protestants are the most errant Christians. What pious
defenders of the faith the great Turk and the good Czarina
are ! Then the liberties of the Gallican Church are upheld
by Louis Quinze and the Comtesse de Barr6 ; and the
liberties of England by that excellent patriot, Alderman
Wilkes ! Well ! you want to know what is doing in
the ward of Farringdon Without \ The Lords are to meet
on Monday, when the Alderman's writs of error will be
argued before them. I think he will find no favour there.
He is not to appear at the bar of the other House till the
27th, where he will probably make a better fight. The
people are certainly intoxicated with him, and, should he
be expelled, as he expects, he will undoubtedly be able to
name his successor for Middlesex. What idle pains Cato,
and such folks, took to be virtuous, when they might have
been patriots on so much cheaper terms ! Wilkes has got
his addresses to his constituents already written and dated
from Newgate, whither he expects to be sent ; and if he is,
he will have ten times a greater levee than my Lord Russell
had there. A few days will decide whether my Lord
Chatham will appear and claim his old civic crown again ;
in short, whether Caesar will join Alderman Catiline, or
wait till matters are riper for his descent. For my own
LETTER 1245. — * Wilkes had just been elected Alderman of that ward.
Walpole.
250 To Sir Horace Mann [1769
part, I do not believe this demi-god will ever revisit the
earth, since he has been so shorn of his beams.
All this is amusing ; and yet, methinks, I had rather we
made a great figure than a comical one. When one has
been used to glory under Mr. Pitt, I sigh to think how he
and we are fallen ! We are afraid to meddle even in little
Corsica, though the French have so wofully miscarried
there ; and we enjoy half the empire of the Mogul only to
traffic in India stock ! We are no longer great any way.
We have no great men ; no great orators, writers, or poets.
One would think they had all been killed in the last war.
Nay, our very actors are uncommonly bad. I saw a new
tragedy the other night, that was worse played, though at
Drury Lane, than by any strollers I ever beheld ; and yet
they are good enough for the new pieces. The best we have
are little comic operas. Apropos to operas ; your old
acquaintance the Duke of Dorset 2 is dead, after having
worn out his constitution, and almost his estate. He has
not left a tree standing in the venerable old park at Knowle.
However, the family think themselves very happy that he
did not marry a girl he kept, as he had a mind to do, if the
state of his understanding had not empowered his relations
to prevent it.
Did you see as he passed to Kome the great lord3 that
gave birth to all our present disputes? He is said to be
much recovered.
I shall return to London the day after to-morrow ; and as
this cannot set out till Tuesday, probably I shall have
something to add. Do you know anything of Lady Orford,
and the state of her health ? Mr. Hamilton spoke of her to
me in the summer as almost expiring with an asthma.
2 Charles Sackville, second Duke of Dorset. Walpole.
* Lord Bute. Walpole.
1769] To Sir Horace Mann 251
London, Jan. 16th.
Wilkes's writs of error were argued yesterday before the
Lords ; and the Lord Chief Justice Wilmot, in the name of
the other judges, declared in behalf of the verdict already
given against him, which was then confirmed, without one
lord saying a syllable in his defence. As he has two parts
of the legislature thus firm against him, it remains to see
whether he and the people can make any impression on the
House of Commons. If the world can attend to anything
else, this week comes on before the House of Lords that
most extraordinary cause between the families of Douglas
and Hamilton, equal to any in the Causes Celebres. Adieu !
I do not hear a word of my Lord Chatham. Madame de
Barre, the French meteor, does not seem to be a fixed star.
1246. To SIB HOEACE MANN.
Arlington Street, Jan. 81, 1769.
THE affair of Wilkes is rather undecided yet, than in
suspense. It has been a fair trial between faction and
corruption ; of two such common whores, the richest will
carry it.
The Court of Aldermen set aside the election of Wilkes
on some informality, but he was immediately re-chosen.
This happened on Friday last, the very day of his appearance
at the House of Commons. He went thither without the
least disturbance or mob, having dispersed his orders ac-
cordingly, which are obeyed implicitly. He did not, how-
ever, appear at the bar till ten at night, the day being wasted
in debating whether he should be suffered to enter on his
case at large, or be restrained to his two chief complaints.
The latter was carried by 270 to 131, a majority that he will
not easily reduce. He was then called in, looked ill, but
behaved decently, and demanded to take the oaths and his
252 To Sir Horace Mann [i?69
seat. This affair, after a short debate, was refused ; and his
counsel being told the restrictions imposed, the House
adjourned at midnight. To-day he goes again to the House,
but whatever steps he takes there, or however long debates
he may occasion, you may look upon his fate as decided in
that place.
We are in hourly expectation of hearing that a nymph,
more common still than the two I have mentioned, has
occasioned what Wilkes has failed in now, a change in an
administration. I mean the Comtesse du Barry. The
grands habits are made, and nothing wanting for her pre-
sentation but — what do you think ? some woman of quality
to present her. In that servile court and country, the
nobility have had spirit enough to decline paying their
court, though the King has stooped a des bassesses to obtain
it. The Due de Choiseul will be the victim ; and they
pretend to say has declared he will resign a I'anglaise,
rather than be chasse by such a creature. His indiscretion
is astonishing: he has said at his own table, and she has
been told so, ' Madame du Barry est tres mal informed ; on
ne parle pas des catins chez moi.' Catin diverts herself and
King Solomon the wise with tossing oranges into the air
after supper, and crying, 'Saute, Choiseul ! saute, Praslin ! '
and then Solomon laughs heartily. Sometimes she flings
powder in his sage face, and calls him Jean Farine ! Well ! we
are not the foolishest nation in Europe yet ! It is supposed
that the Due d'Aiguillon will be the successor. Voltaire has
just published a Siecle de Louis XV; it were pity but he
should continue this Book of Kings.
I am going to send away this letter, because you will be
impatient, and the House will not rise probably till long
after the post is gone out. I did not think last May that
you would hear this February that there was an end of
mobs, that Wilkes was expelled, and the colonies quieted.
1769] To Sir Horace Mann 253
However, pray take notice that I do not stir a foot out of
the province of gazetteer into that of prophet. I protest,
I know no more than a prophet what is to come. Adieu !
1247. To SIR HOEACB MANN.
Arlington Street, Feb. 6, 1769.
I WAS not mistaken in announcing to you the approaching
expulsion of Wilkes. It passed on Friday night, or rather
at three on Saturday morning, by a majority of 219 against
137, after four days of such fatigue and long sittings as
never were known together. His behaviour, in every
respect but confidence, was so poor, that it confirmed what
I have long thought, that he would lose himself sooner in
the House of Commons than he can be crushed anywhere
else. He has so little quickness or talent for public speaking,
that he would not be heard with patience. Now he has all
the eclat that sufferings, boldness, or his writings can give
him — not that I think the latter have other merit than
being calculated for the mob and the moment. He stands
again for Middlesex, to be again expelled ; yet nobody dares
oppose him ; and he is as sure of recommending his suc-
cessor. Still there are people so wild and blind, as not to
see that every triumph against him is followed by mortifica-
tion and disgrace. In this country every violence turns
back upon its authors. My father, who governed for the
longest time, and Mr. Pelham, who enjoyed the quietest
administration, always leaned to lenient measures. They
who think themselves wiser have not met with equal
success. As worthless a fellow as Wilkes is, the rigours
exercised towards him have raised a spirit that will require
still wiser heads to allay. Men have again turned seriously
to the study of those controversies that agitated this country
an hundred years ago ; and instead of dipping in Koman and
254 To Sir Horace Mann [1769
Greek histories for flowers to decorate the speeches of false
patriotism, principles are revived that have taken deeper
root ; and I wish we do not see quarrels of a graver com-
plexion than the dirty squabbles for places and profit.
Persecution for politics has just the same issue as for
religion ; it spreads the oppressed doctrine ; and though
I think Wilkes as bad a man as if he were a saint, he will
every day get disciples that will profit of his martyrdom.
Thank God, that he has not turned Methodist !
Apropos to saints. Do you know that one of the chief
supports of Madame du Barri is that old hypocrite the Due
de la Vauguion l, the Dauphin's governor, and patron of the
Jesuits. I remember, when I was in France, it was a
common saying, ' que Monsieur de Choiseul n'avoit rien fait
en chassant les Jesuites, s'il ne chassoit aussi M. de la
Vauguion.' This Ignatian preceptor went the other day to
Madame, the King's eldest and favourite daughter, and told
her that Madame du Barri would certainly be presented,
and that her Royal Highness would do well to receive her
kindly. The Princess asked if he came by the King's
order ? He said, no ; but that the Due de Richelieu, and
other of her Royal Highness's friends, advised her to that
conduct. She said, with spirit and dignity, 'Monsieur,
sortez de ma chambre.' We believe the presentation made
last Sunday, though the account is not yet come ; and
I think there is as little doubt of Choiseul's fall. I agree
with you in praying that it may save Paoli. What an
excellent contrast in the beginning and end of the King's
life ! All France gallantly wished to give him a mistress ;
but if a beauty was recommended to him, he asked if she
was as handsome as the poor ugly Queen. Once, I have
heard, they proceeded so far as to place a fair nymph in his
LETTER 1247. — 1 Antoine Paul Caussade (1706 - 1772), Duo de la
Jacques de Qu61en de Stuer de Vauguion.
1769] To Sir Horace Mann 255
bed — he threw the chamber-pot at her. Then on a sudden
he took the homely Madame de Mailly, then her frightful
sister, Vintimille, then the third sister, the goddess Chateau-
roux : and now changes his ministry for a street-walker. . . .2
I am sorry your residence at Pisa is so unpleasant and
expensive to you. You must comfort yourself that you will
never be to follow the court to a camp, nor be shut up in
the seven towers8. Do you know, I expect that the vast
northern war will teach the Turks to read Grotius and
Puffendorff. Adieu !
1248. To SIR HORACE MANN.
Arlington Street, Feb. 28, 1769.
So you and the Jesuits have lost the Pope 1 1 I don't
believe they will comfort themselves so easily as you will.
You are too discreet to betray the secrets of your province,
therefore I will not ask if you have received any in-
structions to promote the interest of my Lord Bute to
succeed him ; yet, without your authority, I could easily
make Mr. Wilkes believe so — or at least say so. I know
where it would pass for as much gospel as any she is
inclined to receive. I am to dine to-morrow with the
famous Mrs. Macaulay, along with the Due de la Koche-
foucault2. She is one of the sights that all foreigners are
carried to see. Did you know this young duke? He is
very amiable and worthy — much more worthy than his
ancestor ; not quite so agreeable. Our ladies run the men
hard : we have actually two or three upon the carpet that for
these last ten days have deadened the lustre of Wilkes him-
2 Passage omitted. demolished in 1655.
8 Probably an allusion to the LETTER 1248. — ' Clement XIII ; d.
1 Torre della Fame ' at Pisa (the Feb. 2, 1769.
place of Ugolino's captivity and 2 Fra^ois Alexandre Frederic
death), properly known as the ' Torre (1747-1827), Due de la Rochefou-
dei Gualandi alle Sette Vie.' It was cauld-Liancourt.
256 To Sir Horace Mann [1769
self, though his cause is far from being drawn to the dregs.
A huge subscription has been made for him ; but, with all
the idolatry of his party, they will not trust his divinity
with his own offerings, but are paying his debts and thefts.
Is not there a sobriety in our madness that stamps it for
our own?
Well, but to come to goddesses: after a marriage of
twenty years, Augustus Hervey s, having fallen in love with
a physician's daughter 4 at Bath, has attacked his spouse, the
Maid of Honour, the fair Chudleigh, and sought a divorce
for adultery. Unfortunately, he had waited till all the
witnesses of their marriage, and of her two deliveries, are
dead, as well as the two children. The provident virgin
had not been so negligent. Last year she forced herself
into the house of the parson6 who had married them, and
who was at the point of death. By bullying, and to get rid
of her, she forced the poor man to give up the certificate.
Since that she has appeared in Doctors' Commons, and
sworn by the Virgins Mary and Diana, that she never was
married to Mr. Hervey. The Ecclesiastical Court has ad-
mitted her corporal oath, and enjoined silence to Mr. Hervey.
Next week this fair injured innocence, who is but fifty, is
to be married to the Duke of Kingston, who has kept her
openly for almost half that time, and who by this means
will recover half his fortune which he had lavished on her.
As a proof of her purity and poverty, her wedding-gown is
white satin, trimmed with Brussels lace and pearls. Every
word of this history is extremely true. The physician, who
is a little more in his senses than the other actors, and
a little honester, will not give his daughter ; nay, has
offered her five thousand pounds not to marry Mr. Hervey,
3 Second son of John, Lord Hervey, to marry her.
afterwards Earl of Bristol. Walpole, 6 Mr. Amis, Rector of Lainston,
4 A Miss Moysey. Mr. Hervey Hampshire, where the marriage took
afterwards denied that he intended place in 1744.
17G9] To Sir Horace Mann 257
but Miss Ehubarb is as much above worldly decorum as the
rest, and persists, though there is no more doubt of the
marriage of Mr. Hervey and Miss Chudleigh than that of
your father and mother. It is a cruel case upon his family,
who can never acquiesce in the legitimacy of his children,
if any come from this bigamy 6.
The French cannot keep pace with us. Madame du
Barri's presentation is still at a stand ; but the Jesuits still
trust in her and the Due de la Vauguion, and flatter them-
selves that this new idolatry will bring back King Solomon
to his old gods. I was talking of this adventure the other
day to old Mrs. Selwyn 7 : she said, with all the wit of her
son George, 'The French have often outwitted us; I hope
now they will outfool us.' You see that will not be an easy
matter. My dear Sir, you ought to be recalled ; indeed you
are too much in your senses to represent us. Two nights
ago, I was looking over some part of our correspondence,
and I find that for seven-and-twenty years I have been
sending you the annals of Bedlam. Apropos, the last tome
that you returned to me ended November 13th, 1766.
When you have an opportunity, a safe one, let me have the
rest. Adieu !
1249. To SIB HORACE MANN.
Arlington Street, March 23, 1769.
MORE tempests ! Pray, Mr. Minister, keep up your dignity
as well as you can ; for I doubt that you will be a little
laughed at. You are not now representing the conquerors
of East and West. Your crest is fallen ! Our campaigns
do not extend beyond the confines of Middlesex. We will
8 This marriage did not take place. Queen of George II), and Woman of
Walpole, the Bedchamber to that Queen.
7 Mary Farringdon, widow of John Walpole.
Selwyn, Esq. (Treasurer to Caroline,
WALPOLE. VII
258 To Sir Horace Mann [1769
begin with the third election at Brentford. One Dingley
was sent to oppose Wilkes, but took panic and ran away,
and nobody would propose him. The next day he adver-
tised that he had gone thither with all the resolution in the
world, provided there had been no danger, and so Wilkes
was chosen once more. The House again rejected him ;
but, lest the county should complain of not being repre-
sented, another writ is issued ; the court is to set up some-
body, and a new egg is laid for riots and clamours.
Oh, but this is not all. As one or two towns had sent
instructions to their members, it was thought wise to
procure loyal addresses, and one was obtained from Essex,
which, being the great county for calves, produced nothing
but ridicule. I foresaw, and said from the first moment,
that there could not be a sillier step taken, as it would sow
division in every county and great town in England, by
splitting the inhabitants into instructors and addressers.
Well ! the aforesaid Mr. Dingley got an assembly of mer-
chants, and carried an address ready drawn. It produced
opposition and hubbub, and Mr. Dingley struck a lawyer in
the face and beat out one of his teeth. The man knocked
him down, drubbed him, and has put him in the Crown
Office. This scheme defeated, an address was left at a public
office to be signed by all that pleased, and yesterday was
fixed for it to be presented at St. James's by six hundred
merchants and others. This imposing cavalcade no sooner
set forth than they were hissed and pelted ; and when they
came to Temple Bar they found an immense mob, who had
shut the gates against them, and they were forced to make
their escape by any streets and by-lanes that were not
occupied. Not a third part reached St. James's, and they
were overtaken by a prodigious concourse, attending a hearse
drawn by four horses. On one side of the hearse hung
a large escutcheon, representing the chairman at Brentford
1769] To Sir Horace Mann 259
killing Clarke ; on the other, the Guards firing on the mob
in St. George's Fields and shooting Allen, with streams of
blood running down. This procession drove to St. James's
Gate, where Grenadiers were fixed to prevent their entrance,
and the gates towards the Park shut. Here the King,
ministers, and foreign ministers were besieged till past four,
though the Eiot Act was read, and Lord Talbot l came down,
and seized one man, while the mob broke the Steward's
wand in his hand. It was near five before they could
recover and present the address, which the mob had tried
to seize ; they had so pelted the chairman of the committee
of merchants, that he was not fit to appear. The Dukes of
Northumberland and Kingston were as ill treated. The
latter, coming from Bedford House, had been taken for the
Duke of Bedford, and had his new wedding-coach, favours,
and liveries covered with mud. Fifteen men are taken up,
but I don't find anything can be proved against them. In
short, never was a more disgraceful scene ! Don't wonder
if I smile, who have seen more formidable mobs, and some-
thing of a better head opposed to them. Many cry out
' Shame ! ' — but half that cry out, I remember encouraging
mobs, and for much worse ends than these poor infatuated
people have in view. The minister2 of those days would
not have seen such a procession arrive in St. James's with-
out having had intelligence of it, nor without being pre-
pared for it. Those great and able persons, the Bedford
faction, have conjured up this storm, and now are frightened
out of their wits at it. All is perfectly quiet to-day, and the
King has been at the House to pass the bill for the Duke of
Grafton's divorce. Luckily, Newmarket begins on Monday,
during which holy season there is always a suspension of
arms.
LETTER 1249. — * William, first Earl of Talbot, Lord Steward. Walpole,
2 Sir Robert Walpole. WcUpole.
S 2
260 To Sir Horace Mann [i?69
Good Friday, 24th.
Peace and cross-buns reign to-day. If no new ingenuity
is stirred, the people, I don't doubt, will give no more
disturbance. But if the Scotch, who cannot rest in patience
without persecuting Wilkes, and who have neither known
how to quiet or to quell him, prompt new violence, the
nation will call out for Lord Chatham and Lord Temple,
and the ministers will have leisure to repent the succession
of blunders that they have committed. It is strange that
men will not learn in every country that defensive measures
are the only wise measures for an administration ! For a
little more power they risk what they possess, and never
discover that the most absolute are those that reign in the
hearts of the people. Were Cardinal Kichelieu, Cromwell,
or Louis XI more despotic than Mr. Pitt at the end of the
last reign ? And then he had the comfort of going to bed
every night without the fear of being assassinated. What
a blessed life does Count d'Oeyras3 pass, who is forced to
lock up himself and all his power at the end of his palace,
with guards in every room, and with every door barred and
bolted ! As superior power cannot bestow superior wisdom
or strength, nor destroy the real equality between man and
man, is not it wonderful that any man should stake character,
life, and peace of mind, against the odious prerogative of
being feared? Hated alive, and reviled dead, they risk
everything for the silly satisfaction of turning voluntary into
trembling sycophants. Every minister is sure of flatterers
enough : no, those flatterers must be slaves. Charles I was
not satisfied with the servile adulation of his bishops ; the
Presbyterian ministers must burn incense too. Jesus ! that
men should still imagine that to be hated is the way to
happiness — but here am I preaching on general topics, when
I have something else to say to you.
8 Prime Minister of Portugal. Walpole.
1769] To Sir Horace Mann 261
Your brother is very unhappy ; he had projected a match
between his daughter and your sister Foote's eldest son 4,
and it was thought that the young couple liked one another.
It is certain at least that the poor girl was caught. All on
a sudden your nephew grew cold, and at last has owned that
he scruples marrying his cousin-german. As she is a lovely
girl, and your brother had promised to give her twenty
thousand pounds, and forty if her brother dies, who is
delicate and has an ugly swelling on his throat, your
brother thinks the scruple arises from pride and from her
being a natural daughter. I own I have a little of the
same suspicion, as the scruple is so ridiculous an one ; and
yet it is an honest young man, and full of scruples about
his own profession of the law. I told your brother, that if
the scruple is sincere, however ill-founded, it would be hard
to punish a virtuous mind. Yet your brother resents this
behaviour extremely. As your nephew Horace has only
a daughter, and Lady Lucy miscarries frequently, your
brother told me he had intended to give his estate after
Horace, and on failure of his own son, whom he thinks he
shall lose, to his daughter and young Foote. I did not ask
what he meant by his estate, whether his own private fortune,
or your father's, which he may fancy in his power, though
Mr. Chute and I are confident, from what Gal used to say,
that the latter is entailed on you. Still if it is not, he could
not think of giving it to Horace, without its passing through
you. He looks so young and so well, that you need not be in
haste to trouble yourself which he meant. Still I wish this
match had taken place, as it would have kept you all together,
and your brother from carrying his views out of the family.
He may now be tempted to scrape all he can together, in
order to match his daughter more highly. How idle are
* George Talbot Hatley Foote, •wife of Francis Foote. The younger
eldest son of Mann's elder sister, Foote died unmarried in 1821.
262 To George Montagu [i769
distant views, and how every day shows one the nothing-
ness of them ! Constant experience makes me such a philo-
sopher, that I scarce care whether anything happens as I
wish, or just the contrary ; and the more so, as the contrary
often proves as well as what I wished — There ! there are
moralities of all sorts for you ! And yet not one of them
would ever strike anybody that had not passed to them
through the gate of experience. One can no more enjoy the
fruits of another man's experience than of another man's
land, without buying it.
1250. To GEOSVENOK BEDFORD.
March 24, 1769.
IF Mr. Palmer will not give in his accounts, I order
Mr. Bedford to give in my accounts without them. I will
connive at nothing, nor have any underhand dealings with
Mr. Palmer or anybody else ; but will have the business of
my office done openly, fairly, and regularly, as it is my duty
to do, and as I can justify to the Lords of the Treasury and
to the public.
HOB. WALPOLE.
1251. To GEOKGE MONTAGU.
Strawberry Hill, Sunday, March 26, 1769.
I BEG your pardon ; I promised to send you news, and
I had quite forgot that we have had a rebellion — at least, the
Duke of Bedford says so. Six or eight hundred merchants,
English, Dutch, Jews, Gentiles, had been entreated to protect
the Protestant succession, and consented. They set out on
Wednesday noon in their coaches and chariots — chariots not
armed with scythes like our Gothic ancestors. At Temple
Bar they met several regiments of foot, dreadfully armed
1769] To George Montagu 263
with mud, who discharged a sleet of dirt on the loyal troop.
Minerva, who had forgotten her dreadful JEgis, and who, in
the shape of Mr. Boehm, carried the address, was forced to
take shelter under a cloud in Nando's coffee-house1, being
more afraid of Buckhorse than ever Venus was of Diomed —
in short, it was a dismal day ; and if Lord Talbot had not
recollected the Patriot feats of his youth and recommenced
bruiser, I don't know but the Duchess of Kingston*, who
has so long preserved her modesty, from both her husbands,
might not have been ravished in the Drawing Koom. Peace
is at present restored, and the rebellion adjourned to the
thirteenth of April ; when Wilkes and Colonel Luttrel 3 are
to fight a pitched battle at Brentford, the Philippi of
Antoninus. Tityre, tu patulae recubans sub tegmine fagi,
know nothing of these broils. You don't convert your
ploughshares into falchions, nor the mud of Adderbury
into gunpowder. I tremble for my painted windows, and
write talismans of Number 45 on every gate and postern
of my castle. Mr. Hume is writing the Eevolutions of
Middlesex, and a troop of barnacle geese are levied to
defend the Capitol. These are melancholy times ! Heaven
send we do not laugh till we cry !
London, Tuesday, 28th.
Our ministers, like their Saxon ancestors, are gone to hold a
Wittenagemot on horseback at Newmarket. Lord Chatham,
we are told, is to come forth after the holidays and place
himself at the head of the discontented. When I see it I
shall believe it.
LETTER 1251. — * In Fleet Street whom he succeeded as second Earl
2 Elizabeth Chudleigh, Duchess in 1787. Luttrell was beaten at the
of Kingston, married to the Duke election by 1,148 votes to 296, but by
on March 8, 1769. a resolution of the House of Commons
3 Colonel Hon. Henry Lawes Lut- he was declared elected. At the time
trell (1743-1821), eldest son of first of the election and for some time
Baron Irnham, who was created afterwards he was in considerable
Earl of Carhampton in 1785, and danger from the anger of the mob.
264 To Thomas Chatterton [1769
Lord Frederick Campbell is, at last, to be married this
evening to the Dowager Countess of Ferrers. The Duchess
of Grafton is actually Countess of Ossory. This is a short
gazette ; but, consider, it is a time of truce. Adieu !
Yours ever,
H. W.
1252. To THOMAS CHATTERTON \
gIK) Arlington Street, March 28, 1769.
I cannot but think myself singularly obliged by a gentle-
man with whom I have not the pleasure of being acquainted,
when I read your very curious and kind letter, which I have
this minute received. I give you a thousand thanks for it,
and for the very obliging offer you make me, of communi-
cating your MSS. to me. What you have already sent me
is very valuable, and full of information ; but instead of
correcting you, Sir, you are far more able to correct me.
I have not the happiness of understanding the Saxon
language, and without your learned notes should not have
been able to comprehend Eowley's text.
As a second edition of my Anecdotes was published but
last year, I must not flatter myself that a third will be
wanted soon ; but I shall be happy to lay up any notices
you will be so good as to extract for me, and send me at
your leisure ; for, as it is uncertain when I may use them,
I would by no means borrow and detain your MSS.
Give me leave to ask you where Kowley's poems are to be
LETTER 1252. — * Thomas Chatter- a very few lines that it had been
ton (1752-1770) the poet, then sixteen found at Bristol with many other
years old. He wrote to Horace Wai- old poems ; and that the possessor
pole in March 1769, under cover to could furnish me with accounts of
Bathoe, Walpole's bookseller. ' Ba- a series of great painters that had
thoe . . . brought me a packet left flourished at Bristol.' (See Letter to
with him. It contained an Ode, the Editor of the Miscellanies ofThomas
or little poem of two or three stanzas Chatterton, Works of Lord Orford,
in alternate rhyme, on the death of vol. iv. p. 220.)
Ilichard the 1st, and I was told in
1769] To the Rev. William Mason 265
found ? I should not be sorry to print them ; or at least,
a specimen of them, if they have never been printed.
The Abbot John's verses that you have given me, are
wonderful for their harmony and spirit, though there
are some words I do not understand.
You do not point out exactly the time when he lived,
which I wish to know, as I suppose it was long before
John Ab Eyck's discovery of oil-painting. If so, it confirms
what I had guessed, and have hinted in my Anecdotes, that
oil-painting was known here much earlier than that dis-
covery or revival.
I will not trouble you with more questions now, Sir, but
flatter myself from the humanity and politeness you have
already shown me, that you will sometimes give me leave
to consult you. I hope, too, you will forgive the simplicity
of my direction, as you have favoured me with no other.
I am, Sir,
Your much obliged
and obedient humble Servant,
HOB. WALPOLE2.
P.S. Be so good as to direct to Mr. Walpole in Arlington
Street.
•
1253. To THE REV. WILLIAM MASON.
DEAR SlK, Arlington Street, April 5, 1769.
I have read carefully and with great pleasure your two
comedies, and will tell you sincerely my opinion of them.
2 The following note, dated Berke- I wrote to him on his first application
ley Square, March 16, 1792, is printed to me : though, not having seen the
in Works of Lord Orford (voL iv. p. original now, nor since it was writ-
239) : — ' A letter from me to Chatter- ten, nor having kept any copy of it,
ton, dated March 28, 1769, appeared I cannot at the distance of so many
in the European Magazine for the past years say more than that I do believe
month of February. I believe it is it was genuine.'
a genuine one, and the first which
266 To the Rev. William Mason [i?69
The grave one pleases me the most, and made me shed
tears. I think it wants very little improvement : none in
the conduct, if any rather more comic, which you have
confined too much to Flora and the footman. One point
I think wants correction, which is Lucinda's neglect of
inquiring after her father till the moment she is ready to
depart. The greatest objection I believe could be made, is,
that the story, at least the situations, have too much resem-
blance to The Conscious Lovers \ When I have spoken so
frankly, I trust you will believe me too, when I assure
you I think it an excellent comedy, and can see no objection
you could have to letting it be acted, concealing the author,
which I could not advise, after what I have said on that
subject. So far from agreeing with Mr. Gray, I like the
bastardy, and would have the governor, consistently with
the good sense of his character, say more against the cruel
prejudice that falls on the innocent instead of the guilty.
I will not flatter you more about the other piece, the
indelicacy of Lady Fitzharold's character I think too strong ;
and do not approve Lady Betty's being so easily drawn,
contrary to the pride of her ideas, which you make her
characteristic, into love for the supposed valet de chambre.
His part pleases me extremely, is new and would have great
effect upon the stage ; there are many scenes very well
worked up ; but the play would want softening in the
respects I have mentioned. Still I own the other is my
favourite : it requires very little alteration, might easily be
improved, and I am sure would please universally. If you
concealed your name, I can conceive no objection to your
letting it be acted, which I should very much wish to see. —
I give you a thousand thanks for trusting them to me, and
for the sight of the drawing, which lost nothing by my being
prepared for it ; besides the humour which is admirable, it
LETTISH 1253. — l A comedy by Steele.
1769] To Dr. Bdbertson 267
is excellent as a drawing. I enclose a short advertisement
for Mr. Hoyland's a poems. I mean by it to tempt people
to a little more charity, and to soften to him, as much as
I can, the humiliation of its being asked for him; if you
approve it, it shall be prefixed to the edition.
Forgive the freedoms I have taken with you, Sir ; I should
not, but from esteem, and from believing you above being
offended with them. I shall see you, I flatter myself, before
you go out of town.
Your most obedient
HOB. WALPOLE.
1254. To DR. ROBERTSON.
[April 1769.]
GIVE me leave, Sir, without flattery, to observe to yourself,
what is very natural to say to others. You are almost the
single, certainly the greatest instance, that sound parts and
judgement can attain every perfection of a writer, though it
be buried in the privacy of retired life and deep study. You
have neither the prejudices of a recluse, nor want any of the
taste of a man of the world. Nor is this polished ease
confined to your works, which parts and imitation might
possibly seize. In the few hours I passed with you last
summer I was struck with your familiar acquaintance with
man, and with every topic of conversation. Of your Scottish
History I have often said, that it seemed to me to have been
written by an able ambassador, who had seen much of
affairs. I do not expect to find less of that penetration in
your Charles *. Why should I not say thus much to you ?
Why should the language of flattery forbid truth to speak its
2 Eev. Francis Hoyland, a friend LETTEE 1254. — J Robertson's re-
of Mason. His Poems were printed cently published History of the Reign
at Strawberry Hill in 1769. of the Emperor Charles V.
268 To Sir Horace Mann [1769
mind, merely because flattery has stolen truth's expressions ?
Why should you be deprived of the satisfaction of hearing
the impression your merit has made? You have sense
enough to be conscious that you deserve what I have said ;
and though modesty will forbid you to subscribe to it,
justice to me and to my character, which was never that
of a flatterer, will oblige you silently to feel, that I can
have no motive but that of paying homage to superior
abilities.
1255. So SIE HOEACE MANN.
Arlington Street, April 14, 1769.
YESTERDAY, the day of expectation, is over: I mean the
election at Brentford, for I must recollect that you have not
been thinking of nothing else for a fortnight, as we have.
It ended bloodless, both sides having agreed to keep the
peace; chance ratified that compromise. Take notice, I
engage no farther than for what is past. Wilkes triumphed,
as usual, having a majority of between eight and nine
hundred. The court candidate1, who had offered himself
for the service, and who was as imprudently accepted,
gave no proofs of the determined valour that he had
promised. His friends exerted themselves as little ; and
though he was to have been convoyed by a squadron of
many gentlemen, his troop did not muster above twenty,
assembled in his father's garden, broke down the wall that
they might steal a march, and yet were repulsed at Hyde
Park Corner, where the commander lost his hat, and in
self-defence rode over a foot-passenger. He polled under
three hundred, and owed his safety to Wilkes's friends.
This defeat the House of Commons are at this moment
repairing — I believe I may add, by widening the breach ;
LETTER 1255. — l Colonel Luttrel, eldest son of Lord Irnharn. Walpole,
1769] To Sir Horace Mann 269
for, as they intend to reject Wilkes and accept Luttrel, they
will probably make the county quite mad. In short, they
have done nothing but flounder from one blunder into
another, and, by an impartial mixture of rashness and
timidity, have brought matters to a pass, which I fear
will require at last very sharp methods to decide one way
or other. We have no heads but wrong ones ; and wrong
heads on both sides have not the happy attribute of two
negatives in making an affirmative. Instead of annihilating
Wilkes by buying or neglecting him, his enemies have
pushed the court on a series of measures that have made
him excessively important ; and now every step they take
must serve to increase his faction, and make themselves
more unpopular. The clouds all around them are many
and big, and will burst as fast as they try violent methods.
I tremble at the prospect, and suffer to see the abyss into
which we are falling, and the height from whence we have
fallen ! We were tired of being in a situation to give the
law to Europe, and now cannot give it with safety to the
mob — for giving it, when they are not disposed to receive it,
is of all experiments the most dangerous ; and whatever
may be the consequence in the end, seldom fails to fall on
the heads of those who undertake it. I have said it to you
more than once ; it is amazing to me that men do not prefer
the safe, amiable, and honourable method of governing the
people as they like to be governed, to the invidious and
restless task of governing them contrary to their inclinations.
If princes or ministers considered, that despair makes men
fearless, instead of making them cowards, surely they
would abandon such fruitless policy. It requires ages of
oppression, barbarism, and ignorance, to sink mankind into
pusillanimous submission ; and it requires a climate too
that softens and enervates. I do not think we are going
to try the experiment ; but as I am sorry the people give
270 To Sir Horace Mann [1769
provocation, so I am grieved to see that provocation too
warmly resented, because men forget from whence they set
out, and mutual injuries beget new principles, and open to
wider views than either party had at first any notion of.
Charles I would have been more despotic, if he had defeated
the republicans, than he would have dreamed of being
before the Civil War ; and Colonel Cromwell certainly never
thought of becoming Protector, when he raised his regiment.
The King lost his head, and the Colonel his rest ; and we
were so fortunate, after a deluge of blood, as to relapse into
a little better condition than we had been before the contest ;
but if the son of either had been an active rogue, we might
have lost our liberties for some time, and not recovered
them without a much longer struggle.
I must now desire a favour of you. The Contessa Eena 2
is returned to Florence, and we hear has even been received
at court, yet she is not satisfied without the countenance del
Signor Ministro d'lnghilterra. As an Austrian court has not
been squeamish, I think you need not be so : nay, I don't
suspect you. Besides, as our representative, you may plead
the precedent of her Grace of Kingston. But, without a joke,
it will oblige me and two of my friends 3, if you will take
notice of her and show her civilities. She is a good-
humoured inoffensive creature; I knew her nryself; she
has been at Strawberry, and lain there ; en tout bien et
honneur, s'entend', and it will oblige the above persons
extremely, if she writes word, that Monsu Menn has distin-
guished her at my request. I would not ask this, if I
thought it would put you under any difficulties: nor do
I mean that you should neglect the emperor4 for her.
8 A Florentine who had long been the Earl of March, and occasionally
in England ; had originally been of others. Wctipole,
mistress (at Florence, where she was s Probably George Selwyn and
wife of a wine merchant) of Lord Lord March.
Pembroke, and afterwards here, of * Joseph II, then in Italy.
1769] To George Montagu 271
Methinks, without stirring out of the street de? Santi
Apostoli 5, you have got acquainted with as many sovereigns as
old Peterborough 6, that bragged of having seen more kings and
postilions than any man in Europe. I delight in the mock
election of a Pope made to amuse Caesar. How the Capitol
must blush at such a Caesar, and such an entertainment !
Luckily, I think the Capitol will see little more than
mock elections.
Otranto7, I must tell you, is in the kingdom of Naples,
not in Sicily. You will see by this paragraph that I have
received a certain letter 8 from you, to which I do not care
to say more by the post. Wherever Otranto is, I am glad
I had no letter from thence.
Madame du Barri will certainly be presented yet. Whether
she will be able to save Corsica, I don't know. Such nymphs
are seldom born for the good of any country. Cannot you
whisper Caesar, that it would be as diverting to rescue Paoli,
as to see a parcel of old fools acting the Holy Ghost, and
showing him how it selects from a corporation of super-
annuated dotards the most decrepit amongst them to
represent the Almighty ? My dear Sir, it would be worthy
of you to shuffle your two or three great and little princes
together, and form a league that for once might have the
good of mankind for its object. Adieu !
1256. To GEOEGE MONTAGU.
Arlington Street, April 15, 1769.
I SHOULD be very sorry to believe half your distempers.
I am heartily grieved for the vacancy that has happened in
5 In which Sir Horace Mann lived Otranto. Walpole.
at Florence. Walpole, 8 Lord Bute, when at Florence,
6 Charles Mor daunt, the famous had talked to Sir Horace Mann
EarL Walpole, (probably to please him) of writing
7 Mr. Walpole had written the to Mr. Walpole from Otranto. Wai-
Gothic story called The Castle of pole.
272 To George Montagu [1769
your mouth *, though you describe it so comically. As the
only physic I believe in is prevention, you shall let me
prescribe to you. Use a little bit of alum twice or thrice in
a week, no bigger than half your nail, till it has all dissolved
in your mouth, and been spit out. This has fortified my
teeth, that they are as strong as the pen of Junius2. I
learned it of Mrs. Grosvenor, who had not a speck in her
teeth to her death. For your other complaints, I revert to
my old sermon, temperance. If you will live in a hermitage,
methinks it is no great addition to live like a hermit. Look
in Sadeler's prints, they had beards down to their girdles ;
and with all their impatience to be in heaven, their roots
and water kept them for a century from their wishes.
I have lived all my life like an anchoret in London, and
within ten miles, shed my skin after the gout, and am as
lively as an eel in a week after. Mr. Chute, who has drunk
no more wine than a fish, grows better every year. He has
escaped this winter with only a little pain in one hand.
Consider that the physicians recommend wine, and then
can you doubt of its being poison? Medicines may cure
a few acute distempers, but how should they mend a broken
constitution? they would as soon mend a broken leg.
Abstinence and time may repair it, nothing else can ; for
when time has been employed to spoil the blood, it cannot
be purified in a moment.
Wilkes, who has been chosen member of Parliament
almost as often as Marius was consul, was again re-elected
on Thursday. The House of Commons, who are as obstinate
as the county, have again rejected him. To-day they are
to instate Colonel Luttrel in his place. What is to follow
I cannot say, but I doubt grievous commotions. Both sides
LETTER 1256. — l Montagu had lost ' Junius ' appeared in the Public
a front tooth. Advertiser of Jan, 21, 1769.
2 The first of the letters signed
1769] To George Montagu 273
seem so warm, that it will be difficult for either to be in the
right. This is not a merry subject, and therefore I will
have done with it. If it comes to blows, I intend to be as
neutral as the gentleman that was going out with his hounds
the morning of Edgehill. I have seen too much of parties
to list with any of them.
You promised to return to town, but now say nothing of
it. You had better come before a passport is necessary.
Adieu !
Yours ever,
H. W.
1257. To GrEOBGE MONTAGU.
Arlington Street, May 11, 1769.
You are so wayward, that I often resolve to give you up
to your humours. Then something happens with which
I can divert you, and my good nature returns. Did not you
say you should return to London long before this time?
At least, could you not tell me you had changed your
mind? why am I to pick it out from your absence and
silence, as Dr. Warburton found a future state in Moses's
saying nothing of the matter? I could go on with a
chapter of severe interrogatories ; but I think it more
cruel to treat you as a hopeless reprobate — yes, you are
graceless, and as I have a respect for my own scolding,
I shall not throw it away upon you.
Strawberry has been in great glory — I have given a festino
there that will almost mortgage it. Last Tuesday all France
dined there : Monsieur and Madame du Chatelet, the Due de
Liancour, three more French ladies *, whose names you will
LETTER 1257. — l Mesdames de married, in 1787, as his second wife,
Villegagnon, de la Vaupaliere, and Hon. Thomas Walpole, Horace Wal-
do Damas. Mme. de Villegagnon pole's first consin, second son of
was the sister of M. Frances, French first Baron Walpole of Wolterton.
Charge1 d'Affaires in London. She
WALPOLE. VII
274 To George Montagu [1769
find in the enclosed paper', eight other Frenchmen, the
Spanish and Portuguese ministers, the Holdernesses, Fitz-
roys, in short we were four-and-twenty. They arrived at
two. At the gates of the castle I received them, dressed
in the cravat of Gibbons's carving, and a pair of gloves
embroidered up to the elbows that had belonged to James I.
The French servants stared, and firmly believed this was
the dress of English country gentlemen. After taking
a survey of the apartments, we went to the printing-house,
where I had prepared the enclosed verses, with translations
by Monsieur de Lisle s, one of the company. The moment
they were printed off, I gave a private signal, and French
horns and clarionets accompanied the compliment. We
then went to see Pope's grotto and garden, and returned
to a magnificent dinner in the refectory. In the evening
we walked, had tea, coffee, and lemonade in the gallery,
which was illuminated with a thousand, or thirty candles,
I forget which, and played at whisk and loo till midnight.
Then there was a cold supper, and at one the company
returned to town, saluted by fifty nightingales, who, as
tenants of the manor, came to do honour to their lord.
I cannot say last night was equally agreeable. There was
what they called a ridotto al fresco at Vauxhall, for which
one paid half a guinea, though, except some thousand more
lamps and a covered passage all round the garden, which
took off from the gardenhood, there was nothing better
than on a common night. Mr. Conway and I set out from
his house at eight o'clock — the tide and torrent of coaches
was so prodigious, that it was half an hour after nine
before we got halfway from Westminster Bridge. We
then alighted, and after scrambling under bellies of horses,
3 These verses do not appear in s The Chevalier de Lille, an officer
the MS. They are printed in Ann, of dragoons, and a writer of vers de
Beg. 1771, pp. 238-9. socUU.
1769] To Sir Horace Mann 275
through wheels, and over posts and rails, we reached the
gardens, where were already many thousand persons.
Nothing diverted me but a man in a Turk's dress and
two nymphs in masquerade without masks, who sailed
amongst the company, and, which was surprising, seemed
to surprise nobody. It had been given out that people
were desired to come in fancied dresses without masks.
We walked twice round and were rejoiced to come away,
though with the same difficulties as at our entrance; for
we found three strings of coaches all along the "road, who
did not move half a foot in half an hour. There is to be
a rival mob in the same way at Eanelagh to-morrow ; for
the greater the folly and imposition the greater is the crowd.
I have suspended the vestimenta that were torn off my
back to the god of repentance, and shall stay away. Adieu !
I have not a word more to say to you.
Yours, &c.,
H. W.
P.S. I hope you will not regret paying a shilling for
this packet.
1258. To SIR HORACE MANN.
Arlington Street, May 11, 1769.
You know my exactitude, and therefore will have justly
concluded from my silence that nothing material has
happened since I wrote last.
The election of Colonel Luttrell, though it has given
much offence, produced none of the disturbances that were
expected. The supporters of the Bill of Eights1 have, on
the contrary, adopted a much more decent system ; not with
LETTER 1268.— 1 ' The Society for supporting the Bill of Eights,' a political
association formed in 1769.
T 2
276 To Sir Horace Mann [i769
the approbation of Wilkes, whose existence depending on
heats and riots, has made him afraid of being dropped, and
of seeing any grievances in question, except his own. The
supporters, or London Tavern, as they are called from the
place of their meeting, determined on a petition to the King,
in which they have enumerated all the matters of complaint
from the beginning of this reign. This has lain to be
signed, and has been prodigiously signed by the freeholders
of Middlesex for these three weeks ; and it was expected
would be presented a week ago. What has prevented it,
I don't know ; probably the sitting of the Parliament,
which was to have risen last Tuesday was se'nnight ; but on
the preceding Saturday fifteen of Wilkes's friends petitioned
against Luttrell. The House could not refuse to hear them ;
last Monday was appointed, when, after a debate that lasted
till near three in the morning, Luttrell was confirmed by
two hundred and twenty-one to one hundred and fifty-two.
Sixty-nine was no shining majority. The next day George
Grenville dined at a tavern with Lord Eockingham's friends,
and this union will no doubt last — till next session. On
Tuesday the Houses were prorogued ; but as the King went
to put an end to the session, the behaviour of the people
was as offensive as it could be, without an actual tumult.
Lord Chatham, as I foretold, has, you find, not appeared.
His friends still talk of his coming to town ; I see not to
what end now.
Well ! Madame du Barri has been suddenly presented,
when nobody thought of it. The King returning from
Choisi, found the Due de Eichelieu reading a letter, who
said, 'Sire, the Comtesse du Barri desires to have the
honour of being presented to your Majesty.' — 'With all my
heart,' replied Solomon ; ' when she will ; to-morrow, if she
likes it.' Presented she was accordingly, and at night gave
a great supper ; to which were invited Richelieu and all the
1769] To Sir Horace Mann 277
Due de Choiseul's enemies. Kichelieu, engaged in this plot
with the King, looks very unfavourable for the minister.
Everybody is now presented to her, and she has been
publicly at Marly. The Mesdames scratched M. de, Beau-
villiers out of the list for that party on his being presented.
But I should think such affronts would only render the
mistress more eager to establish herself. I grieve that if
the change should arrive, it will not be in time to save
Paoli.
The Russians have begun with vivacity and seized Asoph ;
still the Empress makes me a Turk in my heart. Don't
you love the Chinese ? Czernichew, her sumptuous minister
here, was named for the embassy to China, but the Emperor
said he would not receive an ambassador from a murderess.
How often what we call barbarians make Europe blush !
Oh, I forgot to tell you that the Comte du Barri, who
has been acknowledged by Lord Barrymore3, insists on
calling himself by that title. He was reported to be dead.
The Due de Chartres * said, ' C'est pour nous prouver qu'il
est veritablement Comte du Barrymort.' I think the summer
will be tolerably quiet here. Everybody is going to make
hay and keep sheep, except the light troops that will
skirmish in the newspapers. You, I hope, have got rid
of your Emperors, and will have a little quiet too. When
do your old folks at Rome intend to choose the last Pope ?
Does the Emperor design to dethrone St. Peter and restore
Julius Caesar? Or will Madame du Barri fatten up the
Holy Ghost again only because M. de Choiseul had clipped
its wings ? Adieu !
2 As a relation. Walpole. — Richard 1793), Due de Chartres, son of the
Barry (1745-1773), sixth Earl of Due d'Orldans, whom he succeeded
Barrymore. in 1785. He was guillotined.
3 Louis Philippe Joseph (1747-
278 To the Eev. William Mason [i769
1259. To THE REV. WILLIAM MASON.
DEAR SlR, Arlington Street, May 11, 1769.
I am more pleased than surprised at your kindness, and
the hurry with which I answer your letter will, I hope, in
some measure express my gratitude. I thank you for
myself, not for my play1. I care little about the latter,
in comparison of the satisfaction I receive from your friend-
ship. I cannot think the play deserved the pains you have
bestowed on it, but I am very willing to flatter myself that
you felt some kindness for the author: and I doubt I am
one of those selfish parents that love themselves better than
their offspring.
I cannot think of the stage — I believe from pride — and
I am weary of printing and publishing — I suppose from
vanity, at least I am sure I have no better reasons for not
making all possible use of your alterations, with which I am
so much pleased that I shall correct my own copy by them.
I am astonished to see with how few lines you have been
able totally to change the canvas of a whole play, a play
totally defective in the plan, and I believe not much better
in the conduct, which you would not exert your judgement,
or rather your chemistry, to prove ; for I must repeat how
surprised I am at the solution you have made with so little
trouble. I own too my own want of judgement : I believe
I was so pleased with what ought to have prevented my
attempting the subject, which was the singularity of it.
Unfrequent crimes are as little the business of tragedy, as
singular characters are of comedy ; it is inviting the town
to correct a single person. You see, Sir, I am far from
being incorrigible ; on the contrary, I am willing to be
Corrected ; but as Mr. Gray could tell you, I cannot correct
LETTER 1259.— * The Mysterious Mother.
1769] To the Eev. William Mason 279
myself. I write I neither know how nor why, and always
make worse what I try to amend. I have begged him
a thousand times to no purpose to correct trifles I have
written, and which I really could not improve myself.
I am not so unreasonable or so imprudent as to ask the
same favour of you, Sir ; but I accept with great thankful-
ness what you have voluntarily been so good as to do for
me; and should The Mysterious Mother ever be performed
when I am dead, it will owe to you its presentation.
When I see Mr. Stonhewer, I will know if he would
choose another edition of poor Mr. Hoyland's Poems. I
doubt not, as when he sent for the last twenty, he said he
believed he could get off them. I gladly adopt your correc-
tions, but I cannot father your own goodness. It is to you,
Sir, Mr. Hoyland owes everything.
Dodsley has published a dozen letters of Pope to Mrs.
Blount ; they are evidently real love-letters — and yet they
are stiff and unnatural, though he affects negligence in
them.
I forgot to reprove you for calling me a poet. I wish
I had any pretensions to that title. It is true I early
wished to be one, but soon found I was not ; my prose was
like speeches of the members of the House of Commons,
who try to talk themselves into titles to which they were
not born ; you, Sir, who found your patent in your cradle,
call me My Lord, as English peers condescend to give their
own appellation to the peers of Ireland, though conscious
that the latter are only commoners : for my part I give up
all pretensions but to your esteem, with which you have
flattered me, and which I beg you to continue by marks of
friendship to, dear Sir,
Your much obliged and humble servant,
HOE. WALPOLE.
280 To Sir, Horace Mann [1769
1260. To SIR HORACE MANN.
Strawberry Hill, May 25, 1769.
THOUGH it is incredible how little I have to say, I cannot
refuse writing as you desired, to tell you that I have received
your letter relating to the affairs of your family. It has
given me entire satisfaction. There can be no doubt from
the account of both your brothers of the estate being entailed
on you. I fancy what we have heard lately was only an air
of importance, and of which it is better to take no notice ;
especially as the contest can never happen with the person
who assumed those airs. This is all it is necessary to say.
Everything here is perfectly calm ; Wilkes so much
forgotten, that he seems to have forgot himself. The
Middlesex petition was at last presented yesterday, but
as decently and respectfully as if it had come from Scotland.
Opposition, I think, must set out upon some new fund, for
even they themselves seem tired of the old.
The Duke of Grafton has already chosen a new wife, and
is going to marry Miss Wrottesley \ a niece of the Duchess
of Bedford. She is not handsome, but is quiet and reason-
able, and has a very amiable character.
As I told you in my last, we shall be happy enough to be
able to divert ourselves with foreign news, Turks, Pope, or
Paoli. It is generally thought here that the last will be
able to hold out, from the inaccessible fastnesses of his
island, and from the almost impossibility that the French
will have of supplying themselves with provisions; and
that even if they should succeed, the expense will pass all
bounds. I think the Due de Choiseul not at all likely to
live long enough in his ministerial capacity to see that
conquest achieved. His successor, whoever it shall be, will
LITTER 1260. — l Elizabeth (d. 1822), Duke was divorced from his first
second daughter of R«v. Sir Richard wife in March 1769.
Wrottesley, seventh Baronet. The
1769] To Sir Horace Mann 281
scarce compliment him with finishing his work at so dear
and burdensome a rate.
So the Countess* is coming over, and the Countess is
going back again ! Why that is all that one has to say on
her coming and going. I do not know whether she and her
son will meet, but neither can meet with anybody less worth
meeting.
Everybody is going into the country to recruit themselves
with health, or money, or wit, or faction. This has been
an expensive winter in all those articles. London is such
a drain, that we seem annihilated in summer : at least the
activity and events from the beginning of November to
the beginning of June are so out of proportion to the other
five months, that we are not the same nation in the one
half-year and the other. Paris itself, compared to London,
appeared to me a mere country town, where they live upon
one piece of news for a month. When I lived in the
country (which was but the three last summers of my
father's life, for I don't call this place so), I used to be
tired to death of the conversation on the price of oats and
barley, and those topics that people talk about and about
by their almanack, and which never do, and which never
have occasion to come to a conclusion. I have been so used
to think to a point, that the common conversation of the
world about common things is insupportable to me ; and to
say the truth, I know less of the common affairs of the
world than if I had lived all my days in a college. Elections,
justice business, prices of commodities, and all matters of
detail are Hebrew to me. Men that know every circum-
stance, and women that never know any, are equally good
company to me. I had as willingly hear a story where
everything is confounded, as where everything is detailed ;
the event of everything seeming to me all that is worth
2 Lady Orford.— Walpole.
282 To the Rev. William Cole [1769
knowing; and then I want something new. As I have
nothing new, I may as well finish my letter. Adieu !
1261. To THE REV. WILLIAM COLE.
Arlington Street, May 27, 1769.
I HAVE not heard from you this century, nor knew where
you had fixed your staff. Mr. Gray tells me you are still at
Waterbeach. Mr. Granger has published his Catalogue of
Prints and Lives down to the ^Revolution, and, as the work
sells well, I believe, nay, do not doubt but we shall have
the rest. There are a few copies printed but on one side of
the leaf. As I know you love scribbling in such books as
well as I do, I beg you will give me leave to make you
a present of one set. I shall send it in about a week to
Mr. Gray, and have desired him, as soon as he has turned
it over, to convey it to you. I have found a few mistakes,
and you will find more. To my mortification, though
I have four thousand heads, I find, upon a rough calcula-
tion, that I still shall want three or four hundred.
Pray, give me some account of yourself, how you do, and
whether you are fixed ? I thought you rather inclined to
Ely. Are we never to have the history of that cathedral ?
I wish you would tell me that you have any thoughts of
coming this way ; or that you would make me a visit this
summer. I shall be little from home this summer till
August, when I think of going to Paris for six weeks.
To be sure you have seen the History of British Topo-
graphy1, which was published this winter, and it is a
delightful book in our way. Adieu ! dear Sir.
Yours ever,
H. WALPOLE.
LETTEB 1261. — l Anecdotes ofBrituh Topography, by Eichard Gough (1735-
1809).
1769] To the Eev. William Cole 283
1262. To THE EEV. WILLIAM COLE.
DEAR SiR, Strawberry Hill, June 14, 1769.
Among many agreeable passages in your last, there is
nothing I like so well as the hope you give me of seeing
you here in July. I will return that visit immediately —
don't be afraid, I do not mean to incommode you at
Waterbeach, but, if you will come, I promise I will
accompany you back as far as Cambridge ; nay, carry
you on to Ely, for thither I am bound. The Bishop1
has sent a Dr. Nichols to me, to desire I would assist
him in a plan for the east window of his cathedral, which
he intends to benefactorate with painted glass. The window
is the most untractable of all Saxon uncouthnesses ; nor
can I conceive what to do with it, but by taking off the
bottoms for arms and mosaic, splitting the Crucifixion into
three compartments, and filling the five lights at top with
prophets, saints, martyrs, or such like, after shortening the
windows like the great ones. This I shall propose ; how-
ever, I choose to see the spot myself, as it will be a proper
attention to the Bishop after his civility; and I really
would give the best advice I could. The Bishop, like
Alexander VIII, feels that the clock has struck half an
hour past eleven, and is impatient to be let depart in
peace after his eyes shall have seen his vitrification; at
least, he is impatient to give his eyes that treat — and yet
it will be a pity to precipitate the work. If you can come
to me first, I shall be happy ; if not, I must come to you,
that is, will meet you at Cambridge. Let me know your
mind, for I would not press you unseasonably. I am
enough obliged to you already, though, by mistake, you
think it is you that are obliged to me. I do not mean to
LKTTKB 1262.— 1 Matthias Mawson, Bishop of Ely ; d. 1770.
284 To the Rev. William Cole [i769
plunder you of any more prints ; but shall employ a little
collector to get me all that are getdble ; the rest, the greatest
collectors of us all must want.
1 am very sorry for the fever you have had ; but,
Goodman Frog, if you will live in the fens, do you expect
to be as healthy as if you were a fat Dominican at Naples ?
You and your MSS. will all grow mouldy. When our
climate is subject to no sign but Aquarius and Pisces,
would one choose the dampest county under the heavens ?
I do not expect to persuade you, and so I will say no more.
I wish you joy of the treasure you have discovered. Six
Saxon bishops and a Duke of Northumberland 2 ! You have
had fine sport this season. Thank you much for wishing
to see my name on a plate in the History — but, seriously,
I have no such vanity. I did my utmost to dissuade
Mr. Granger from the Dedication 3, and took especial pains
to get my virtues left out of the question, till I found he
would be quite hurt if I did not let him express his
gratitude, as he called it ; so to satisfy him, I was forced
to accept of his present, for I doubt I have few virtues but
what he has presented me with ; and in a dedication, you
know one is permitted to have as many as the author can
afford to bestow. I really have another objection to the
plate, which is, the ten guineas. I have so many drafts on
my extravagance for trifles that I like better than vanity,
that I should not care to be at that expense. But I should
think either the Duke or Duchess of Northumberland would
rejoice at such opportunity of buying incense— and I will
tell you what you shall do. Write to Mr. Percy, and vaunt
the discovery of Duke Brythnoth's bones, and ask him to
move their Graces to contribute a plate. They could not be
2 Their remains were discovered 3 Granger's Biographical History
by Cole during some alterations in was dedicated to Horace Walpole.
Ely Cathedral.
1769] To the Rev. William Cole 285
so unnatural as to refuse — especially if the Duchess knew
the size of his thigh-bone.
I was very happy to show civilities to your friends, and
should have asked them to stay and dine, but unluckily
expected other company. Dr. Ewin* seems a very good
sort of man, and Mr. Rawlinson a very agreeable one.
Pray do not think it was any trouble to me to pay respect
to your recommendation.
I have been eagerly reading Mr. Shenstone's 5 Letters,
which, though containing nothing but trifles, amused me
extremely, as they mention so many persons I know,
particularly myself. I found there, what I did not know,
and what I believe Mr. Gray himself never knew, that his
Ode on my cat was written to ridicule Lord Lyttelton's
Monody. It is just as true, as that the latter will survive,
and the former be forgotten. There is another anecdote
equally vulgar, and void of truth: that my father, sitting
in George's Coffee-House (I suppose Mr. Shenstone thought
that, after he quitted his place, he went to coffee-houses to
learn news), was asked to contribute to a figure of himself
that was to be beheaded by the mob. I do remember
something like it, but it happened to myself. I met a mob,
just after my father was out, in Hanover Square, and drove
up to it to know what was the matter. They were carrying
about a figure of my sister. This probably gave rise to the
other story. That on my uncle I never heard, but it is
a good story, and not at all improbable. I felt great pity
on reading these letters for the narrow circumstances of the
author, and the passion for fame that he was tormented
with ; and yet he had much more fame than his talents
intituled him to. Poor man! he wanted to have all the
world talk of him for the pretty place 6 he had made, and
* William Howell Ewin (d. 1804), B William Shenstone (1714-1763).
a notorious usurer. 6 The Leasowes.
286 To Sir Horace Mann [i?69
which he seems to have made only that it might be talked
of. The first time a company came to see my house, I felt
his joy. I am now so tired of it, that I shudder when the
bell rings at the gate. It is as bad as keeping an inn, and
I am often tempted to deny its being shown, if it would not
be ill-natured to those that come, and to my housekeeper.
I own, I was one day too cross. I had been plagued all the
week with staring crowds. At last it rained a deluge.
'Well!' said I, 'at least nobody will come to-day.' The
words were scarce uttered, before the bell rang, a company
desired to see the house — I replied, ' Tell them they cannot
possibly see the house, but they are very welcome to walk
in the garden.'
Observe ; nothing above alludes to Dr. Ewin and
Mr. Eawlinson ; I was not only much pleased with them,
but quite glad to show them how entirely you command
my house, and your most sincere friend and servant
HOB. WALPOLE.
1263. To SIB HOEACE MANN.
Strawberry Hill, June U, 1769.
I THANK you for the history of the Pope1 and his
genealogy, or, rather, for what is to be his genealogy ;
for I suppose all those tailors and coachmen his relations
will now found noble families. They may enrich their
blood with the remaining spoils of the Jesuits, unless,
which would not surprise me, his new Holiness should
now veer about, and endeavour to save the order; for
I think the Church full as likely to fall by sacrificing its
janissaries, as by any attacks that can be made upon it.
Deme unum, demc etiam unum.
If I care little about your Koman politics, I am not so
LETTER 1263. — J Clement XIV, recently elected. J
1769] To Sir Horace Mann 287
indifferent about your Corsican2. Poor brave Paoli! — but
he is not disgraced ! We, that have sat still and seen
him overwhelmed, must answer it to history. Nay, the
Mediterranean will taunt us in the very next war. Choiseul
triumphs over us and Madame du Barri : her star seems to
have lost its influence. I do not know what another lady *
will say to Choiseul on the late behaviour of his friend, the
Ambassador, here. As the adventure will make a chapter
in the new edition of Wiquefort4, and, consequently, will
strike you, I will give you the detail. At the ball on the
King's Birthday, Count Czernichew was sitting in the box
of the foreign ministers next to Count Seilern, the Imperial
Ambassador. The latter, who is as fierce as the spread eagle
itself, and as stiff as the chin of all the Ferdinands, was,
according to his custom, as near to Jupiter as was possible.
Monsieur du Chatelet and the Prince de Masserano came in.
Chatelet sidled up to the two former, spoke to them and
passed behind them, but on a sudden lifted up his leg and
thrust himself in between the two Imperials. The Eussian,
astonished and provoked, endeavoured to push him away,
and a jostle began that discomposed the faces and curls of
both ; and the Eussian even dropped the word impertinent.
Czernichew, however, quitted the spot of battle, and the
Prince de Masserano, in support of the family-compact,
hobbled into the place below Chatelet. As the two
champions retired, more words at the door. However,
the Eussian's coach being first, he astonished everybody
by proposing to set Monsieur du Chatelet down at his
9 Corsica was overrun in. May by days, he escaped on an English ship,
thirty thousand French troops, and landing in Leghorn on June 16,
was at this time almost entirely 1769.
subdued. Paoli held out until sur- s The Czarina. Walpole.
rounded by the enemy. He then, * Abraham Wicquefort, author of
with a body of five hundred men, a treatise called L'Ambassadeur et sea
cut his way through the French Fonctiona.
troops, and after hiding for two
288 To Sir Horace Mann [i?69
own house. In the coach, it is said, the Frenchman
protested he had meant nothing personal either to Count
Czernichew, or to the Eussian minister, but having received
orders from his court to take place on all occasions next to
the Imperial Ambassador, he had but done his duty. Next
morning he visited Czernichew, and they are personally
reconciled. It was, however, feared that the dispute would
be renewed, for, at the King's next levee, both were at the
door, ready to push in when it should be opened ; but the
Eussian kept behind, and at the bottom of the room, without
mixing with the rest of the foreign ministers. The King,
who was much offended at what had passed, called Count
Czernichew into the middle of the room, and talked to him
for a very considerable time. Since then, the Lord Chamber-
lain has been ordered to notify to all the foreign ministers
that the King looks on the ball at court as a private ball,
and declares, to prevent such disagreeable altercations for the
future, that there is no precedence there. This declaration
is ridiculed, because the ball at court is almost the only
ceremony observed there, and certainly the most formal,
the Princes of the blood dancing first, and everybody else
being taken out according to their rank. Yet the King,
being the fountain of all rank, may certainly declare what
he pleases, especially in his own palace. The public papers,
which seldom spare the French, are warm for the Eussian.
Chatelet, too, is not popular, nor well at court. He is
wrong-headed, and at Vienna was very near drawing his
court into a scrape by his haughtiness. His own friends
even doubt whether this last exploit will not offend at
Versailles, as the Due de Choiseul has lately been endeavour-
ing to soften the Czarina, wishes to send a minister thither,
and has actually sent an agent. Chatelet was to have gone
this week, but I believe waits to hear how his behaviour is
taken. Personally, I am quite on his side, though I think
1769] To Sir Horace Mann 289
him in the wrong ; but he is extremely civil to me ; I live
much at his house, admire his wife exceedingly, and, besides,
you know, have declared war with the Czarina ; so what
I say is quite in confidence to you, and for your information.
As an Englishman, I am whatever Madam Great Britain
can expect of me. As intimate with the Chatelets, and
extremely attached to the Duchess of Choiseul, I detest
Madame du Barri and her faction. You, who are a foreign
minister, and can distinguish like a theologian between the
two natures, perfectly comprehend all this ; and, therefore,
to the charity of your casuistry I recommend myself in this
jumble of contradictions, which you may be sure do not give
me any sort of trouble either way. At least I have not
three distinctions, like Chatelet when he affronted Czernichew,
but neither in his private nor public capacity.
This fracas happens very luckily, as we had nothing left
to talk of ; for of the Pope we think no more, according to
the old saying, than of the Pope of Rome. Of Wilkes there
is no longer any question, and of the war under the pole
we hear nothing. Corsica, probably, will occasion murmurs,
but they will be preserved in pickle till next winter. I am
come hither for two months, very busy with finishing my
round tower, which has stood still these five years, and with
an enchanting new cottage that I have built, and other little
works. In August I shall go to Paris for six weeks. In
short, I am delighted with having bid adieu to Parliament
and politics, and with doing nothing but what I like all the
year round.
Your brother called on me t'other day, and desired I would
recommend to you three English gentlemen who are going
to France. He gave me their names, but I have lost them.
No matter ; you are civil to all three and all three hundred
English. You will find out these by their being men of
Kent and your brother's acquaintance, and therefore don't
WALPOLE. VII TT
290 To the Rev. William Cole [i?G9
betray me. You are so good to all, that these will easily
believe your attentions are particularly addressed to them
on your brother's recommendation. Adieu !
1264. To THE REV. WILLIAM COLE.
Strawberry Hill, Monday, June 26, 1769.
OH, yes, yes, I shall like Thursday or Friday, 6th or 7th,
exceedingly. I shall like your staying with me two days
exceedingly er ; and longer exceedingly^ : and I will carry
you back to Cambridge on our pilgrimage to Ely. But
I should not at all like to be catched in the glories of an
installation1, and find myself a Doctor, before I knew where
I was. It will be much more agreeable to find the whole
caput asleep, digesting turtle, dreaming of bishoprics, and
humming old catches of Anacreon and scraps of Corel li.
I wish Mr. Gray may not be set out for the north, which is
rather the case than setting out for the summer. We have
no summers, I think, but what we raise, like pine-apples, by
fire. My hay is an absolute water-soochy, and teaches me
how to feel for you. You are quite in the right to sell your
fief in Marshland. I should be glad if you would take
one step more, and quit Marshland. We live, at least, on
terra firm a in this part of the world, and can saunter out
without stilts. Then we do not wade into pools, and call
it going upon the water, and get sore throats. I trust
yours is better; but I recollect this is not the first you
have complained of. Pray be not incorrigible, but come
to shore.
Be so good as to thank Mr. Smith, my old tutor, for his
corrections. If ever the Anecdotes are reprinted, I will
certainly profit of them.
LETTER 1264. — l The installation of the University of Cambridge, which
of the Duke of Grafton as Chancellor took place in July 1769.
1769] To the Earl of Strafford 291
I joked, it is true, about Joscelin de Louvain2 and his
Duchess ; but not at all in advising you to make Mr. Percy
pimp for the plate. On the contrary, I wish you success,
and think this an infallible method of obtaining the bene-
faction. It is right to lay vanity under contribution, for
then both sides are pleased.
It will not be easy for you to dine with Mr. Granger
from hence, and return at night. It cannot be less than
six- or seven-and-twenty miles to Shiplake. But I go to
Park Place to-morrow, which is within two miles of him,
and I will try if I can tempt him to meet you here. Adieu !
Dear Sir,
Yours most sincerely,
HOE. WALPOLE.
1265. To THE EAEL OP STRAFFORD.
Arlington Street, July 8, 1769.
WHEN you have been so constantly good to me, my dear
Lord, without changing, do you wonder that our friendship
has lasted so long ? Can I be insensible to the honour or
pleasure of your acquaintance? When the advantage lies
so much on my side, am I likely to alter the first? Oh,
but it will last now ! We have seen friendships without
number born and die. Ours was not formed on interest,
nor alliance ; and politics, the poison of all English connec-
tions, never entered into ours. You have given me a new
proof by remembering the chapel of Luton1. I hear it is
to be preserved ; and am glad of it, though I might have
been the better for its ruins.
I should have answered your Lordship's last post, but was
2 The Duke of Northumberland, Louvain on his marriage to Agnes
who assumed the name of Percy in de Percy.
consequence of his marriage to a LETTEE 1265. — l Luton Hoo, Lord
Percy heiress, as did Joscelin de Bute's seat in Bedfordshire.
U 2
292 To the Earl of Strafford [i?69
at Park Place. I think Lady Ailesbury quite recovered ;
though her illness has made such an impression that she
does not yet believe it.
It is so settled that we are never to have tolerable weather
in June, that the first hot day was on Saturday — hot by
comparison ; for I think it is three years since we have
really felt the feel of summer. I was, however, con-
cerned to be forced to come to town yesterday on some
business; for, however the country feels, it looks divine,
and the verdure we buy so dear is delicious. I shall not be
able, I fear, to profit of it this summer in the loveliest of
all places, as I am to go to Paris in August. But next year
I trust I shall accompany Mr. Conway and Lady Ailesbury
to Wentworth Castle. I shall be glad to visit Castle Howard
and Beverley ; but neither would carry me so far, if Went-
worth Castle was not in the way.
The Chatelets are gone, without any more battles with
the Russians. The papers say the latter have been beaten
by the Turks ; which rejoices me, though against all rules
of politics : but I detest that murderess, and like to have
her humbled. I don't know that this piece of news is true :
it is enough to me that it is agreeable. I had rather take it
for granted, than be at the trouble of inquiring about what
I have so little to do with. I am just the same about the
City and Surrey petitions. Since I have dismembered2
myself, it is incredible how cool I am to all politics.
London is the abomination of desolation ; and I rejoice
to leave it again this evening. Even Pam has not a levee
above once or twice a week. Next winter, I suppose it will
begin to be a fashion to remove into the City : for, since it
is the mode to choose aldermen at this end of the town,
the Maccaronis will certainly adjourn to Bishopsgate Street,
2 Mr. Walpole means, since he quitted Parliament. Walpdle.
17G9] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 293
for fear of being fined for sheriffs. Mr. James3 and Mr.
Boothby will die of the thought of being aldermen of
Grosvenor Ward and Berkeley Square Ward. Adam and
Eve in their paradise laugh at all these tumults, and have
not tasted of the tree that forfeits paradise ; which I take
to have been the tree of politics, not of knowledge. How
happy you are not to have your son Abel knocked on the
head by his brother Cain at the Brentford election ! You
do not hunt the poor deer and hares that gambol around
you. — If Eve 4 has a sin, I doubt it is angling ; but as she
makes all other creatures happy, I beg she would not impale
worms nor whisk carp out of one element into another. If
she repents of that guilt, I hope she will live as long as her
grandson Methuselah. There is a commentator that says
his life was protracted for never having boiled a lobster
alive. Adieu, dear couple, that I honour as much as
I could honour my first grandfather and grandmother !
Your most dutiful
HOR. JAPHET.
1266. To THE HON. HENEY SEYMOUR CONWAY.
Strawberry Hill, Friday, July 7, 1769.
You desired me to write, if I knew anything particular.
How particular will content you ? Don't imagine I would
send you such hash as the Livery's petition'1. Come ;
would the apparition of my Lord Chatham satisfy you ?
Don't be frightened ; it was not his ghost. He, he himself
in proprid persona, and not in a strait- waistcoat, walked into
the King's levee this morning, and was in the closet twenty
minutes after the levee ; and was to go out of town to-night
8 Probably Haughton James, a the Livery of London, delivered to
West India proprietor. the King by the Lord Mayor, Beck-
4 Lady Stratford. ford, and three others, on July 5,
LETTER 1266.— l The petition of 1769.
294 To the Rev. William Cole [i?69
again. The deuce is in it if this is not news. Whether he
is to be king, minister, lord mayor, or alderman, I do not
know : nor a word more than I have told you. Whether
he was sent for to guard St. James's Gate, or whether he
came alone, like Almanzor, to storm it, I cannot tell: by
Beckford's violence I should think the latter. I am so
indifferent what he came for, that I shall wait till Sunday
to learn : when I lie in town on my way to Ely. You will
probably hear more from your brother before I can write
again. I send this by my friend Mr. Granger2, who will
leave it at your park gate as he goes through Henley home.
Good night ! it is past twelve, and I am going to bed.
Yours ever,
HOR. WALPOLE.
1267. To THE EEV. WILLIAM COLE.
Strawberry Hill, July 15, 1769.
YOUR fellow travellers, Eosette1 and I, got home safe,
perfectly contented with our expedition, and wonderfully
obliged to you. Pray receive our thanks and barkings,
and pray say and bark a great deal for us to Mr. and
Mrs. Bentham2, and all that good family.
After gratitude, you know, always comes a little self-
interest, for who would be at the trouble of being grateful,
if he had no further expectations ? Imprimis, then, here are
the directions for Mr. Essex3 for the piers of my gates*.
Bishop Luda5 must not be offended at my converting his
tomb into a gateway. Many a saint and confessor, I doubt,
2 Author of the Biographical His- Anne, sister of George Reste, of
tory of England. Walpole. Cambridge.
LETTER 1267. — Incomplete in C. ; s James Essex (1722-1784), archi-
now first printed en tire from original tect. He was much employed at
in British Museum. Cambridge and Ely.
1 Horace Walpole's dog. * The garden gate, engraved in
2 Joseph Bentham (1708-1778), the Description of Strawberry Hill.
Alderman of Cambridge and printer 6 William de Luda, Bishop of Ely,
to that University. His wife was 1290-99.
1769] To the JRev. William Cole 295
will be glad soon to be passed through, as it will, at least,
secure his being passed over. When I was directing the
east window at Ely, I recollected the lines of Prior,
How capricious were Nature and Art to poor Nel!
She was painting her cheeks at the time her nose fell.
Adorning cathedrals when the religion itself totters, is very
like poor Nel's mishap. But to come to Mr. Essex.
The width of the iron gates is 6 feet 2, and they are
7 feet 10 high. Each pilaster is one foot wide : the whole
width, with the interstices, is 8 feet 1 0. The ornament over
the gates is 4 feet 4 to the point. Perhaps you will under-
stand me from this scrawl 6.
The piers should certainly, I think, be a little, and not
much higher than the ornament over the gates, but Mr.
Essex will judge better of the proper proportion. I would
not have any bas-relief or figures in the bases. The tops to
be in this manner. Nothing over the gates themselves.
My next job is a list of some heads, which I beg you will
give to Mr. Jackson ; at his leisure he will try if he can
pick them up for me.
Frances Bridges, Countess of Wharton.
Exeter. (You will think Mrs. Cooper.
me very gluttonous about Sleidan8.
this.) Sir Bevil Granville '.
D. of Bucks by Faithorne, in Prince Eugene, young.
the manner of Mellan. D. of Ormond, do.
Sir John Hoskins 7. Mrs. Wellers.
Sir Kobert Viner. Gouge 10.
' Two rough drawings appear in (1506-1556). Faithorne engraved six
the original letter. prints for the English edition of his
7 Sir John Hoskins or Hoskyns, History of the Reformation in Qer-
second Baronet (1634-1705), Master many.
in Chancery, and President of the 9 Sir Bevil Grenville or Granville
Boyal Society, 1682-83. The print of (1596-1643), killed at Lansdowne,
him was begnn by Faithorne and near Bath, during the Civil War.
finished by White. 10 Dr. William Gouge (1578-1653),
8 Johann Sleiden or Sleidanus Puritan divine.
296 To the Rev. William Cole [i769
Lady Paston u. Maria Langham 15.
Hannah Wooley 12. Lady Eooke.
Lady Harrington. Frontispiece to Academy of
Venner 1S. Eloquence.
Glanville 14. Do. to History of Ch. IbyH. L.
Hen. Maria before the Queen's Closet opened.
Do. See Granger, vol. i. p. 2, }>. 335.
Ch. 2d, Sheldon", and Shaftsbury before old editions of
Chamberlain's Present State.
Qu. Eliz., Burleigh, and Walsingham, Frontisp. to Sir
Dudley Digges's Gompleat Evnbassador.
N.B. All the above are by Faithorne or by his son in
mezzotinto. I shall not mind paying for books, to get the
prints. Here are a few others.
Sir Tho. Armstrong 17 in a print with other heads. Lady
Mary Airmine. Catherine Bolein. Charles Blount Lord
Montjoy. George Earl of Berkeley. Ld. Brounker. Mary
Duchess of Beaufort18. Madam Sophia Bulkeley19. Lady
Brandon. Arthur Lord Chichester. Giovanni Dudley
Duca di Northumberland. Lady Anastatia Digby. Ld.
Dartmouth w. Lady Falconberg n. Humphrey D. of
11 Wife, of Sir William Paston, Alston, and wife of Sir James Lang-
first Baronet (d. 1662), of Paston and ham.
Oxnead, Norfolk. « Gilbert Sheldon (1598-1677),
12 Mrs. Hannah Wooley, who wrote Archbishop of Canterbury.
in the geventeenth century on 17 Sir Thomas Armstrong, Knight
cookery, needlework, and house- (d. 1684), executed for participation
hold management. Her portrait in the Bye House Plot,
(sometimes stated not to represent 18Hon. Mary Oapel, eldest daughter
her but a Mrs. Gilly) was engraved of first Baron Capel of Hadham, and
by Faithorne. wife of first Duke of Beaufort.
13 Tobias Venner (1577-1660), medi- » Hon. Sophia Stewart, daughter
cal writer. His portrait, engraved of Hon. Walter Stewart, second son
by Faithorne, was prefixed to one of of first Baron Blantyre, and wife of
the editions of his work entitled Hon. Henry Bulkeley, fourth son of
Via Recta ad Vitam Longam. first Viscount Bnlkeley.
14 Joseph Glanvill (1636 - 1680), w George Legge (1647-1691), first
whose portrait was prefixed to his Baron Dartmouth.
Philosophical Considerations touching 21 Mary, daughter of Oliver Crom-
Witches and Witchcraft. well, and wife of first Earl Faucon-
15 Mary, daughter of Sir Edward berg ; d. 1713.
1769]
To the Rev. William Cole 297
Gloster. Countess of Hertford. Sir John Hotham22.
Jacob Hall 2S. Theoph. Earl of Huntingdon M. Eliz. Countess
of Kent. Louisa Princess Palatine 25. D. and Dss. of New-
castle and children at table by Diepenbecke 2(t. Sir John
Perrot 27. Percy 28, gunpowder conspirator. Tobias Eustat 29.
Alex. E. of Stirling30. Eliz. Countess of Southampton81.
Lady Eliz. Shirley 32, by Hollar. Earl of Tyrconnel. Lady
Mary Vere. Sir H. Vane 83 the elder. Sir Tho. Wyat. Edw.
E. of Warwick.
I will trouble you with no more at present, but to get
from Mr. Lort 3* the name of the Norfolk monster, and to
give it to Jackson. Don't forget the list of English heads
in Dr. Ewin's book for Mr. Granger, particularly the Duchess
of Chevreux. I will now release you, only adding my com-
pliments to Dr. Ewin, Mr. Tyson85, Mr. Lort, Mr. Essex,
and once more to the Benthams. Adieu, dear Sir ! Yours
ever, H. W.
Kernember to ask me for acacias, and anything else with
which I can pay some of my debts to you.
32 Sir John Hotham, first Baronet, 81 Lady Elizabeth Leigh, daughter
Governor of Hull ; d. 1645. of first Earl of Chichester, and second
23 A rope-dancer, who flourished wife of Thomas Wriothesley, fourth
in the reign of Charles n. Earl of Southampton.
2* Theophilus Hastings (1650 - 32 In the list of prints hy Hollar
1701), seventh Earl of Huntingdon. given in the Anecdotes of Painting
28 Probably Louisa Hollandia, Horace Walpole mentions 'Lady
daughter of Frederick, Count Pala- Elizabeth Shirley the Persian.' This
tine and King of Bohemia, by Eliza- was probably Teresia, daughter of a
beth, daughter of James I of Eng- Circassian nobleman and wife of Sir
land. The Princess Louisa was Bobert Shirley, Envoy to England
Abbess of Maubuisson, near Paris. from Persia. Her portrait was en-
26 See letter to Gray of Nov.19,1765. graved by Hollar.
27 Probably Sir John Perrot, 8S Sir Henry Vane, Knight (1589-
Knight (d. 1592), Lord Deputy of 1655).
Ireland. 34 Dr. Michael Lort (1725-1790),
28 Thomas Percy (1560-1605). antiquary; Begins Professor of Greek
2» Tobias Eustat (d. 1694), bene- at Cambridge, 1759-71 ; Chaplain
factor to the Universities of Oxford to the Archbishop of Canterbury,
and Cambridge. 1779-83.
»o William Alexander (d. 1640), »» Rev. Michael Tyson (1740-1780),
first Earl of Stirling, poet and colonist. antiquary and amateur artist.
298 To Sir Horace Mann [1769
1268. To SIB HOEACE MANN.
Arlington Street, July 19, 1769.
You will possibly wonder you have not heard from me,
when the public papers must have raised your curiosity and
impatience. The reappearance of Lord Chatham, after so
long a seclusion of himself, is no indifferent event. It has
opened all eyes and mouths from hence to Madrid. I am
not apt to neglect such eras. In truth, I wished to be able
to tell you more than mere conjectures. Venit, vidit, — the
vicit is to come. He was twenty minutes alone with the
King ; but what passed, neither of their Majesties has been
pleased to telL General conversation only, is the word given
out. That the Earl is perfectly well, that is, compos mentis,
and grown fat, is certain. That the moment of his appear-
ance, i. e. so immediately after the petition of the Livery of
London, set on foot and presented by his friend Alderman
Beckford, has a hostile look, cannot be doubted. That he
was not sent for — is, I believe, still more true. Farther
this deponent saith not. If petitioning had caught and run
briskly, to be sure it might have been necessary to call in
so great a fireman to stop the flame, as apothecaries give
rhubarb to check a looseness. But London, for the first
time in its life, has not dictated to England. Essex and
Hertfordshire have refused to petition ; Wiltshire and
Worcester say they will petition, and Yorkshire probably
will. But London has so outdone its usual outdoings 1, that
the example is not tempting, especially as they did not
venture to sign their own petition. They have attacked
ministers, judges, and Parliament itself. The latter, in all
likelihood, will ask them some questions next winter.
LETTER 1268. — 1 An expression of was much ridiculed at the time.
Cibber on Mrs. Oldfield in his pre- Walpole.
face to The Provoked, Husband, that
1769] To Sir Horace Mann 299
Lord Holland has already asked one of the Lord Mayor * ;
who chose to shift the blame from himself8. It has stirred
up a controversy which is not likely to end so. The world
is persuaded that there are two factions in the ministry, —
if there were not, it would be the only place void of them.
The East India Company is all faction and gaming. Such
fortunes are made and lost every day as are past belief.
Our history will appear a gigantic lie hereafter, when we
are shrunk again to our own little island. People trudge
to the other end of the town to vote who shall govern
empires at the other end of the world. Panchaud, a banker
from Paris, broke yesterday for seventy thousand pounds,
by buying and selling stock ; and Sir Laurence Dundas paid
in an hundred and forty thousand pounds for what he had
bought. The Company have more and greater places to
give away than the First Lord of the Treasury. Eiches,
abuse, cabals, are so enormously overgrown, that one wants
conception and words to comprehend or describe them.
Even Jewish prophets would have found Eastern hyper-
boles deficient, if Nineveh had been half so extravagant,
luxurious, and rapacious as this wicked good town of
London. I expect it will set itself on fire at last, and light
the match with India bonds and bank bills. As I pass by
it and look at it, I cannot help talking to it, as Ezekiel
would do, and saying, ' With all those combustibles in thy
bowels, with neither government, police, or prudence, how
is it that thou still existest ? ' Well ! I am going to a little
quiet town, where they have had nothing but one whore to
talk of for this twelvemonth, — I mean Paris. Madame du
Barri gains ground, and yet Monsieur de Choiseul carries
3 Hon. Thomas Harley. the Lord Mayor to complain of the
3 In the petition from the free- aspersion. The Lord Mayor replied
holders of Middlesex Lord Holland that he was not answerable for the
was described as the defaulter for contents of the petition.
unaccounted million*. He wrote to
300 To Sir Horace Mann [1769
all his points. He has taken Corsica, bought Sweden,
made a Pope, got the Czarina drubbed by the Turks, and
has restored the Parliament of Bretagne, in spite of the
Due d'Aiguillon, — for revenge can make so despotic and
ambitious a man as Choiseul even turn patriot, — and yet
at this moment I believe he dreads my Lord Chatham more
than Madame du Barri.
I shall set out on the fifteenth of next month, and return
the first week in October. During that interval I think
you had better not write to me, as you know with what
difficulty I got your letters there.
I am much concerned that the journeyings and sojourn-
ings of your little court are so expensive to you. Nor do
I know what to advise. I rather am against your buying
annuities. Pray do not go and game in India stock. I am
now so out of the world and so absolutely out of all politics,
that my interest is no better than my advice. My hopes
are, that your court will soon grow older. The frisks of
a young reign never last. Princes take root in their capital
after their first vagaries are over. Ministers do not love to
gallop about ; and if these peregrinations are burdensome
to you, what must they be to the court itself? The
finances will fail, and they have no Bengal to draw upon.
There will come lectures from Vienna, and you will sit
down quietly again in Via de' Santi Apostoli. There is my
trust : in the meantime I am heartily sorry for the incon-
venience you suffer, and wish it was in my power to
remedy.
My Lady Orford, I hear, is stopped short at Milan, and
does not talk of coming these six months. If she has
tapped a new city, I shall not wonder if she never comes.
Adieu ! I have been writing in the dark, and do not know
whether you can read my letter ; I find I cannot read it
myself.
1769] To Thomas Chatterton 301
1269. To THOMAS CHATTERTON.
SIR,
I do not see, I must own, how those precious MSS., of
which you have sent me a few extracts, should be lost to
the world by my detaining your letters. Do the originals
not exist, from whence you say you copied your extracts,
and from which you offered me more extracts ? In truth,
by your first letter I understood that the originals them-
selves were in your possession by the free and voluntary
offer you made me of them, and which you know I did not
choose to accept. If Mr. Barrett (who, give me leave to
say, cannot know much of antiquity if he believes in the
authenticity of those papers) intends to make use of them,
would he not do better to have recourse to the originals,
than to the slight fragments you have sent me ? You say,
Sir, you know them to be genuine ; pray let me ask again,
of what age are they? and how have they been transmitted?
In what book of any age is there mention made either of
Kowley or of the poetical monk, his ancient predecessor in
such pure poetry ? poetry, so resembling both Spenser and
the moderns, and written in metre invented long since
Rowley, and longer since the monk wrote. I doubt
Mr. Barrett himself will find it difficult to solve these
doubts.
For myself, I undoubtedly will never print those extracts
as genuine, which I am far from believing they are. If you
want them, Sir, I will have them copied, and will send you
the copy. But having a little suspicion that your letters
may have been designed to laugh at me, if I had fallen
into the snare, you will allow me to preserve your
LBTTKK 1269. — Not in C. ; reprinted from Lord Orford's Works (1798),
vol. iv. pp. 237-8,
302 To the Rev. William Cole [i?69
original letters, as an ingenious contrivance, however
unsuccessful. This seems the more probable, as any man
would understand by your first letter, that you either
was possessed of the original MSS. or had taken copies
of them ; whereas now you talk as if you had no copy
but those written at the bottom of the very letters I have
received from you.
I own I should be better diverted, if it proved that you
have chosen to entertain yourself at my expense, than if
you really thought these pieces ancient. The former would
show you had little opinion of my judgement ; the latter,
that you ought not to trust too much to your own. I should
not at all take the former ill, as I am not vain of it ; I
should be sorry for the latter, as you say, Sir, that you are
very young, and it would be pity an ingenious young man
should be too early prejudiced in his own favour l.
1270. To THE REV. WILLIAM COLE.
Strawberry Hill, Aug. 12, 1769.
I WAS in town yesterday and found the parcel arrived
very safe. I give you a thousand thanks, dear Sir, for all
the contents, but when I sent you the list of heads I wanted,
it was for Mr. Jackson, not at all meaning to rob you : but
your generosity much outruns my prudence, and I must be
upon my guard with you. The Catherine Bolen was particu-
larly welcome ; I had never seen it ; it is a treasure, though
I am persuaded not genuine, but taken from a French print
of the Queen of Scots, which I have. I wish you could tell
1 The following note was appended to enter into a controversy with
by Horace Walpole to this letter : — him, I did not finish it, and, only
' N.B. The above letter I had begun folding up his papers, returned
to write to Chatterton on his re- them.'
demand ing his MSS., but not choosing
1769] To the Bev. William Cole 303
me whence it was taken, I mean from what book : I imagine
the same in which are two prints, which Mr. Granger men-
tions, and has himself (with Italian inscriptions too), of a
Duke of Northumberland and an Earl of Arundel. Mr. Bar-
nardiston I never saw before, and do not know in what reign
he lived, I suppose lately ; nor do I know the era of the
Master of Bennet1. When I come back, I must beg you
to satisfy these questions. The Countess of Kent is very
curious, too ; I have lately got a very dirty one, so that
I shall return yours again. Mrs. Wooley I could not get
high nor low — but there is no end of thanking you — and
yet I must for Sir J. Finett 2, though Mr. Hawkins gave me
a copy a fortnight ago. I must delay sending them till
I come back. Be so good as to thank Mr. Tyson for his
prints and notes; the latter I have not had time to look
over, I am so hurried with my journey, but I am sure they
will be very useful to me. I hope he will not forget me in
October. It will be a good opportunity of sending you
some young acacias, or anything you want from hence —
I am sure you ought to ask me for anything in my power,
so much I am in your debt. I must beg to be a little more,
by entreating you to pay Mr. Essex whatever he asks for
his drawing, which is just what I wished. The iron gates
I have.
With regard to a history of Gothic architecture, in which
he desires my advice, the plan, I think, should lie in a very
simple compass. Was I to execute it, it should be thus.
I would give a series of plates, even from the conclusion of
Saxon architecture, beginning with the round Eoman arch,
and going on to show how they plastered and zigzagged it,
and then how better ornaments crept in, till the beautiful
LETTER 1270. — 1 John Barnardis- * Sir John Finet or Finett, Knight
ton, D.D., Master of Bene't (Corpus (1671-1641), Master of the Ceremonies
Christi) College, Cambridge, 1764- to James I.
78.
304 To the Rev. William Cole [i?69
Gothic arrived at its perfection; then how it deceased in
Henry the Eighth's reign, Archbp. Warham's tomb at
Canterbury being, I believe, the last example of unbastard-
ized Gothic. A very few plates more would demonstrate its
change. Holbein embroidered it with some morsels of true
architecture ; in Queen Elizabeth's reign there was scarce
any architecture at all ; I mean no pillars, or seldom ;
buildings then becoming quite plain. Under James a
barbarous composition succeeded. A single plate of some-
thing of Inigo Jones, in his heaviest and worst style, should
terminate the work, for he soon stepped into the true and
perfect Grecian.
The next part, Mr. Essex can do better than anybody,
and is perhaps the only person who can do it. This should
consist of observations on the art, proportions and method
of building, and the reasons observed by the Gothic
architects for what they did. This would show what
great men they were, and how they raised such aerial or
stupendous masses, though unassisted by half the lights
now enjoyed by their successors. The prices and the wages
of workmen, and the comparative value of money and
provisions at the several periods, should be stated, as far
as it is possible to get materials.
The last part (I don't know whether it should not be the
first part) nobody can do so well as yourself. This must be
to ascertain the chronologic period of each building — and
not only of each building, but of each tomb, that shall be
exhibited, for you know the great delicacy and richness of
Gothic ornaments was exhausted on small chapels, oratories,
and tombs. For my own part, I should wish to have added
detached samples of the various patterns of ornaments ;
which would not be a great many, as, excepting pinnacles,
there is scarce one which does not branch from the trefoil ;
quatrefoils, cinquefoils, &c., being but various modifications
1769] To the Rev. William Cole 305
of it. I believe almost all the ramifications of windows are
so : and of them there should be samples too.
This work, you see, could not be executed by one hand.
Mr. Tyson could give great assistance. I wish the plan was
drawn out, and better digested. This is a very rude sketch,
and first thought. I should be very glad to contribute what
little I know, and to the expense too, which would be
considerable: but I am sure we could get assistance: and
it had better not be undertaken than executed superficially.
Mr. Tyson's history of fashions and dresses would make
a valuable part of the work, as in elder times especially
much must be depended on tombs for dresses. I have
a notion the King might be inclined to encourage such
a work ; and, if a proper plan was drawn out, for which
I have not time now, I would endeavour to get it laid
before him, and his patronage solicited. Pray talk this
over with Mr. Tyson and Mr. Essex. It is an idea worth
pursuing.
You was very kind to take me out of the scrape about
the organ 3, and yet if my insignificant name could carry it
to one side, I would not scruple to lend it. Thank you, too,
for St. Alban 4 and Noailles 5. The very picture 6 the latter
describes was in my father's collection, and is now at
Worksop. I have scarce room to crowd in my compliments
to the good house of Bentham, and to say, yours ever,
H. WALPOLE.
8 At Ely. (published in 1763) of Francis de
4 Incidents similar to those which Noailles (1519-1585), Bishop of Dax,
suggested to Horace Walpole the and French Ambassador in England
plot of The Mysteri&us Mother were in the reign of Queen Mary,
noticed by Cole in a Latin MS. life 6 A picture of the Earl of Surrey
of St. Alban. leaning on a broken column.
8 An extract from the Negotiations
WALPOLE. VII
306 To George Montagu [i7G9
1271. To GEORGE MONTAGU.
August 18, 1769.
As I have heard nothing of you since the Assyrian
calends, which is much longer ago than the Greek, you
may perhaps have died in Media, at Ecbatana, or in
Chaldaea, and then, to be sure, I have no reason to take
it ill that you have forgotten me. There is no post between
Europe and the Elysian fields, where I hope in the Lord
Pluto you are ; and for the letters that are sent by Orpheus,
^Eneas, Sir George Villiers 1, and such accidental passengers,
to be sure, one cannot wonder if they miscarry. You might
indeed have sent one a scrawl by Fanny, as Cock Lane is not
very distant from Arlington Street ; but, when I asked her,
she scratched the ghost of a no, that made one's ears tingle
again. If, contrary to all probability, you should still be
above ground, and if, which is still more improbable, you
should repent of your sins while you are yet in good health,
and should go strangely farther, and endeavour to make
atonement by writing to me again, I think it conscientiously
right to inform you, that I am not in Arlington Street, nor
at Strawberry Hill, nor even in Middlesex — nay, not in
England. I am — I am — guess where — not in Corsica — nor
at Spa — stay, I am not at Paris yet — but I hope to be there
in two days. In short, I am at Calais, having landed about
two hours ago, after a tedious passage of nine hours. Having
no soul with me but Kosette, I have been amusing myself
with the arrival of a French officer and his wife in a berlin,
LETTER 1271. — Addressed to Adderbury and endorsed :
' Forwarded from Dover the 21 Aug. 1769.
Your most obedient and
humble servants,
Minet and Fector.'
1 For an account of the apparition of Sir George Villiers see Clarendon's
History of the Rebellion, Bk. L
1769] To John Chute 307
which carried their ancestors to one of Moliere's new plays :
as Madame has no maid with her, she and Monsieur very
prudently untied the trunks, and disburthened the venerable
machine of all its luggage themselves ; and then with a
proper resumption of their quality, Monsieur gave his hand
to Madame, and conducted her in much ceremony through
the yard to their apartment. — Here ends the beginning of
my letter — when I have nothing else to do, perhaps I may
continue it. You cannot have the confidence to complain,
if I give you no more than my momens perdus ; have you
deserved any better of me ?
Saturday morning.
Having just recollected that the whole merit of this letter
will consist in the surprise, I hurry to finish it, and send it
away by the captain of the packet, who is returning. You
may repay me this surprise by answering my letter, and by
directing yours to Arlington Street, from whence Mary will
forward it to me. You will not have much time to con-
sider, for I shall set out on my return from Paris the first
of October, according to my solemn promise to Strawberry —
and you must know, I keep my promises to Strawberry much
better than you do. Adieu ! Boulogne hoy !
1272. To JOHN CHUTE.
Paris, Aug. 30, 1769.
I HAVE been so hurried with paying and receiving visits,
that I have not had a moment's worth of time to write. My
passage was very tedious, and lasted near nine hours for
want of wind. — But I need not talk of my journey; for
Mr. Maurice, whom I met on the road, will have told you
that I was safe on terra firma.
Judge of my surprise at hearing four days ago, that my
Lord Dacre and my Lady were arrived here. They are
X 2
308 To John Chute [i?69
lodged within a few doors of me. He is come to consult
a Doctor Pomme * who has prescribed wine, and Lord Dacre
already complains of the violence of his appetite. If you
and I had pommed him to eternity, he would not have
believed us. A man across the sea tells him the plainest
thing in the world ; that man happens to be called a doctor;
and happening for novelty to talk common sense, is be-
lieved, as if he had talked nonsense ! and what is more
extraordinary, Lord Dacre thinks himself better, though he
is so.
My dear old woman 2 is in better health than when I left
her, and her spirits so increased, that I tell her she will go
mad with age. When they ask her how old she is, she
answers, ' J'ai soixante et mille ans.' She and I went to the
Boulevard last night after supper, and drove about there till
two in the morning. We are going to sup in the country
this evening, and are to go to-morrow night at eleven to the
puppet-show. A protege of hers has written a piece for that
theatre. I have not yet seen Madame du Barri, nor can get
to see her picture at the Exposition at the Louvre, the crowds
are so enormous that go thither for that purpose. As royal
curiosities are the least part of my virtu, I wait with patience.
Whenever I have an opportunity I visit gardens, chiefly
with a view to Kosette's 3 having a walk. She goes nowhere
else, because there is a distemper among the dogs.
There is going to be represented a translation of Hamlet ;
who when his hair is cut, and he is curled and powdered,
I suppose will be exactly Monsieur le Prince Oreste. T'other
night I was at Merope. The Dumenil was as divine as
Mrs. Porter; they said her familiar tones were those of
a poissonniere. In the last act, when one expected the
catastrophe, Narbas, more interested than anybody to see
LBTTEK 1272. — * Pierre Pomme s A favourite dog of Mr. Walpole's.
(1735-1812). Walpole.
2 Madame da Deffand. Walpole.
1769] To George Montagu 309
the event, remained coolly on the stage to hear the story.
The Queen's maid of honour entered without her hand-
kerchief, and with her hair most artfully undressed, and
reeling as if she was maudlin, sobbed out a long narrative,
that did not prove true; while Narbas, with all the good
breeding in the world, was more attentive to her fright than
to what had happened. So much for propriety. Now for
probability. Voltaire has published a tragedy, called Les
Guebres. Two Eoman colonels open the piece : they are
brothers, and relate to one another, how they lately in
company destroyed, by the Emperor's mandate, a city of
the Guebres, in which were their own wives and children ;
and they recollect that they want prodigiously to know
whether both their families did perish in the flames. The
son of the one and the daughter of the other are taken up
for heretics, and, thinking themselves brother and sister,
insist upon being married, and upon being executed for
their religion. The son stabs his father, who is half
a Guebre, too. The high-priest rants and roars. The
Emperor arrives, blames the pontiff for being a persecutor,
and forgives the son for assassinating his father (who does
not die) because — I don't know why, but that he may marry
his cousin. The grave-diggers in Hamlet have no chance,
when such a piece as the Gtiebres is written agreeably to all
rules and unities. Adieu, my dear Sir ! I hope to find you
quite well at my return.
Yours ever,
HOR. WALPOLE.
1273. To GEORGE MONTAGU.
Paris, Sept. 7, 1769.
YOUR two letters flew here together in a breath. I shall
answer the article of business first. I could certainly buy
310 To George Montagu [1769
many things for you here, that you would like, the reliques
of the last age's magnificence ; but since my Lady Holder-
ness invaded the Custom House with an hundred and
fourteen gowns, in the reign of that twopenny monarch
George Grenville, the ports are so guarded, that not a soul
but a smuggler can smuggle anything into England ; and
I suppose you would not care to pay seventy -five per cent,
on second-hand commodities. All I transported three years
ago was conveyed under the cannon of the Duke of Eichmond.
I have no interest in our present representative * ; nor if
I had, is he returning. Plate, of all earthly vanities, is the
most impassable : it is not counterband in its metallic
capacity, but totally so in its personal ; and the officers of
the Custom House not being philosophers enough to separate
the substance from the superficies, brutally hammer both to
pieces, and return you — only the intrinsic ; a compensation
which you, who are no member of Parliament, would not,
I trow, be satisfied with. Thus I doubt you must retrench
your generosity to yourself, unless you can contract it into
an Elzevir size, and be content with anything one can bring
in one's pocket
My dear old friend 2 was charmed with your mention of
her, and made me vow to return you a thousand compli-
ments. She cannot conceive why you will not step hither.
Feeling in herself no difference between the spirits of
twenty-three and seventy-three, she thinks there is no
impediment to doing whatever one will, but the want of
eyesight. If she had that I am persuaded no consideration
would prevent her making me a visit at Strawberry Hill.
She makes songs, sings them, remembers all that ever were
made ; and, having lived from the most agreeable to the
most reasoning age, has all that was amiable in the last, all
LETOEB 1273.— l Earl Ear-court. 2 Madame du Deffand.
1769] To George Montagu 311
that is sensible in this, without the vanity of the former, or
the pedant impertinence of the latter. I have heard her
dispute with all sorts of people, on all sorts of subjects, and
never knew her in the wrong. She humbles the learned,
sets right their disciples, and finds conversation for every-
body. Affectionate as Madame de Sevigne, she has none of
her prejudices, but a more universal taste ; and, with the
most delicate frame, her spirits hurry her through a life of
fatigue that would kill me, if I was to continue here. If we
return by one in the morning from suppers in the country,
she proposes driving to the Boulevard or to the Foire
St. Ovide, because it is too early to go to bed. I had
great difficulty last night to persuade her, though she was
not well, not to sit up till between two or three for the
comet ; for which purpose she had appointed an astronomer
to bring his telescopes to the President H6nault's, as she
thought it would an&se me. In short, her goodness to me
is so excessive, that I feel unashamed at producing my
withered person in a round of diversions, which I have
quitted at home. I tell a story ; I do feel ashamed, and
sigh to be in my quiet castle and cottage ; but it costs me
many a pang, when I reflect that I shall probably never
have resolution enough to take another journey to see this
best and sincerest of friends, who loves me as much as my
mother did ! but it is idle to look forward — what is next
year ? — a bubble that may burst for her or me, before even
the flying year can hurry to the end of its almanack ! To
form plans and projects in such a precarious life as this,
resembles the enchanted castles of fairy legends, in which
every gate was guarded by giants, dragons, &c. Death or
diseases bar every portal through which we mean to pass ;
and, though we may escape them and reach the last
chamber, what a wild adventurer is he that centres his
hopes at the end of such an avenue ! I sit contented with
312 To the Earl of Strafford [i?69
the beggars at the threshold, and never propose going on,
but as the gates open of themselves.
The weather here is quite sultry, and I am sorry to say,
one can send to the corner of the street and buy better
peaches than all our expense in kitchen gardens produces.
Lord and Lady Dacre are a few doors from me, having
started from Tunbridge more suddenly than I did from
Strawberry Hill, but on a more unpleasant motive. My
Lord was persuaded to come and try a new physician. His
faith is greater than mine ! but, poor man ! can one wonder
that he is willing to believe ? My Lady has stood her shock,
and I do not doubt will get over it.
Adieu, my t'other dear old friend ! I am sorry to say I see
you almost as seldom as I do Madame du Deffand. However,
it is comfortable to reflect that we have not changed to each
other for some five-and-thirty years, and neither you nor
I haggle about naming so ancient a term. I made a visit
yesterday to the Abbess of Panthemont, General Ogle-
thorpe's niece, and no chicken. I inquired after her
mother, Madame de Mezieres, and thought I might to
a spiritual votary to immortality venture to say that her
mother must be very old — she interrupted me tartly, and
said, no, her mother had been married extremely young.
Do but think of its seeming important to a saint to sink
a wrinkle of her own through an iron grate ! Oh, we are
ridiculous animals; and if angels have any fun in them,
how we must divert them!
1274. To THE EAEL OF STEAFFOED.
Paris, Sept. 8, 1769.
T'OTHER night, at the Duchess of Choiseul's at supper, the
Intendant of Kouen asked me, if we have roads of communi-
cation all over England and Scotland ? — I suppose he thinks
1769] To the Earl of Strafford 313
that in general we inhabit trackless forests and wild moun-
tains, and that once a year a few legislators come to Paris
to learn the arts of civil life, as to sow corn, plant vines,
and make operas. If this letter should contrive to scramble
through that desert Yorkshire, where your Lordship has
attempted to improve a dreary hill and uncultivated vale,
you will find I remember your commands of writing from
this capital of the world, whither I am come for the benefit
of my country, and where I am intensely studying those
laws and that beautiful frame of government, which can
alone render a nation happy, great, and flourishing ; where
lettres de cachet soften manners, and a proper distribution of
luxury and beggary ensures a common felicity. As we have
a prodigious number of students in legislature of both sexes
here at present, I will not anticipate their discoveries ; but,
as your particular friend, will communicate a rare improve-
ment on nature, which these great philosophers have made,
and which would add considerable beauties to those parts
which your Lordship has already recovered from the waste,
and taught to look a little like a Christian country. The
secret is very simple, and yet demanded the effort of a
mighty genius to strike it out. It is nothing but this:
trees ought to be educated as much as men, and are strange
awkward productions when not taught to hold themselves
upright or bow on proper occasions. The academy de Belles-
Lettres have even offered a prize for the man that shall
recover the long-lost art of an ancient Greek, called le
sieur Orphee, who instituted a dancing-school for plants,
and gave a magnificent ball on the birth of the Dauphin
of Thrace, which was performed entirely by forest-trees.
In this whole kingdom there is no such thing as seeing
a tree that is not well-behaved. They are first stripped
up and then cut down ; and you would as soon meet a man
with his hair about his ears as an oak or an ash. As the
314: To the Earl of Stmfford [i769
weather is very hot now, and the soil chalk, and the dust
white, I assure you it is very difficult, powdered as both are
all over, to distinguish a tree from a hair-dresser. Lest this
should sound like a travelling hyperbole, I must advertise
your Lordship, that there is little difference in their heights ;
for, a tree of thirty years' growth being liable to be marked
as royal timber, the proprietors take care not to let their
trees live to the age of being enlisted, but burn them, and
plant others as often almost as they change their fashions.
This gives an air of perpetual youth to the face of the
country, and if adopted by us would realize Mr. Addison's
visions, and
Make our bleak rocks and barren mountains smile1.
What other remarks I have made in my indefatigable
search after knowledge must be reserved to a future
opportunity ; but as your Lordship is my friend, I may
venture to say without vanity to you, that Solon nor any
of the ancient philosophers who travelled to Egypt in quest
of religions, mysteries, laws, and fables, never sat up so late
with the ladies and priests and presidents de parlement at
Memphis, as I do here — and consequently were not half so
well qualified as I am to new-model a commonwealth.
I have learned how to make remonstrances, and how to
answer them. The latter, it seems, is a science much
wanted in my own country— and yet it is as easy and
obvious as their treatment of trees, and not very unlike it.
It was delivered many years ago in an oracular sentence of
my namesake — ' Odi profanum vulgus, et arceo.' You must
drive away the vulgar, and you must have an hundred and
fifty thousand men to drive them away with — that is all.
I do not wonder the Intendant of Rouen thinks we are still
LETTER 1274. — ' ' And makes her barren rocks and her bleak mountains
smile.' Letter to Lord Halifax.
1769] To George Montagu 315
in a state of barbarism, when we are ignorant of the very
rudiments of government.
The Duke and Duchess of Richmond have been here a few
days, and are gone to Aubigne. I do not think him at all
well, and am exceedingly concerned for it; as I know no
man who has more estimable qualities. They return by the
end of the month. I am fluctuating whether I shall not
return with them, as they have pressed me to do, through
Holland. I never was there, and could never go so agree-
ably ; but then it would protract my absence three weeks,
and I am impatient to be in my own cave, notwithstanding
the wisdom I imbibe every day. But one cannot sacrifice
one's self wholly to the public : Titus and Wilkes have now
and then lost a day. Adieu, my dear Lord ! Be assured
that I shall not disdain yours and Lady Strafford's conversa-
tion, though you have nothing but the goodness of your
hearts, and the simplicity of your manners, to recommend you
to the more enlightened understanding of your old friend,
HOK. WALPOLE.
1275. To GEOEGE MONTAGU.
Paris, Sunday night, Sept. 17, 1769.
I AM heartily tired ; but, as it is too early to go to bed,
I must tell you how agreeably I have passed the day. I
wished for you ; the same scenes strike us both, and the same
kind of visions has amused us both ever since we were born.
Well then ! I went this morning to Versailles with my
niece Mrs. Cholmondeley, Mrs. Hart1, Lady Denbigh's
sister, and the Count de Grave, one of the most amiable,
humane, and obliging men alive. Our first object was to
LETTEK1275. — J Jane, eldest daugh- Berkshire. Her sister Mary was the
ter of Sir John Cotton, sixth Baro- wife of the sixth Earl of Denbigh,
net ; m. Thomas Hart, of Warfield,
316 To George Montagu [1759
see Madame du Barri. Being too early for mass, we saw
the Dauphin and his brothers at dinner. The eldest is the
picture of the Duke of Grafton, except that he is more fair,
and will be taller. He has a sickly air, and no grace. The
Count de Provence has a very pleasing countenance, with
an air of more sense than the Count d'Artois, the genius of
the family. They already tell as many Ions mots of the
latter as of Henri Quatre and Louis Quatorze. He is very
fat, and the most like his grandfather of all the children.
You may imagine this royal mess did not occupy us long.
Thence to the chapel, where a first row in the balconies
was kept for us. Madame du Barri arrived over against us
below, without rouge, without powder, and indeed sans
avoir fait sa toilette ; an odd appearance, as she was so
conspicuous, close to the altar, and amidst both court and
people. She is pretty, when you consider her; yet so
little striking, that I never should have asked who she
was. There is nothing bold, assuming, or affected in her
manner. Her husband's sister was along with her. In
the tribune above, surrounded by prelates, was the amorous
and still handsome King. One could not help smiling at
the mixture of piety, pomp, and carnality. From chapel
we went to the dinner of the elder Mesdames. We were
almost stifled in the ante-chamber, where their dishes were
heating over charcoal, and where we could not stir for the
press. When the doors are opened, everybody rushes in,
Princes of the blood, cordons bleus, abbes, housemaids, and
the Lord knows who and what. Yet, so used are their
Highnesses to this trade, that they eat as comfortably and
heartily as you or I could do in our own parlours.
Our second act was much more agreeable. We quitted
the court and a reigning mistress, for a dead one and a
cloister. In short, I had obtained leave from the Bishop of
Chartres to enter into St. Cyr ; and, as Madame du Deffand
1769] To George Montagu 317
never leaves anything undone that can give me satisfaction,
she had written to the abbess to desire I might see every-
thing that could be seen there. The Bishop's order was to
admit me, Monsieur de Grave, et les dames de ma compagnie.
I begged the abbess to give me back the order, that I might
deposit it in the archives of Strawberry, and she complied
instantly. Every door flew open to us : and the nuns vied
in attentions to please us. The first thing I desired to see
was Madame de Maintenon's apartment. It consists of two
small rooms, a library, and a very small chamber, the same
in which the Czar 2 saw her, and in which she died. The
bed is taken away, and the room covered now with bad
pictures of the royal family, which destroys the gravity and
simplicity. It is wainscoted with oak, with plain chairs of
the same, covered with dark blue damask. Everywhere
else the chairs are of blue cloth. The simplicity and
extreme neatness of the whole house, which is vast, are
very remarkable. A large apartment above (for that I have
mentioned is on the ground-floor), consisting of five rooms,
and destined by Louis Quatorze for Madame de Maintenon,
is now the infirmary, with neat white linen beds, and
decorated with every text of Scripture by which could be
insinuated that the foundress was a Queen. The hour of
vespers being come, we were conducted to the chapel, and,
as it was my curiosity that had led us thither, I was placed
in the Maintenon's own tribune ; my company in the
adjoining gallery. The pensioners, two and two, each band
headed by a man, march orderly to their seats, and sing the
whole service, which I confess was not a little tedious. The
young ladies, to the number of two hundred and fifty, are
dressed in black, with short aprons of the same, the latter
and their stays bound with blue, yellow, green or red, to
distinguish the classes ; the captains and lieutenants have
2 Probably Peter the Great, who visited Paris in 1717.
318 To George Montagu [i7C9
knots of a different colour for distinction. Their hair is
curled and powdered, their coiffure a sort of French round-
eared caps, with white tippets, a sort of ruff and large
tucker: in short, a very pretty dress. The nuns are en-
tirely in black, with crape veils and long trains, deep white
handkerchiefs, and forehead cloths, and a very long train.
The chapel is plain but very pretty, and in the middle of
the choir, under a flat marble, lies the foundress. Madame
de Canibis, one of the nuns, who are about forty, is beautiful
as a Madonna. The abbess has no distinction but a larger
and richer gold cross : her apartment consists of two very
small rooms. Of Madame de Maintenon we did not see
fewer than twenty pictures. The young one looking over
her shoulder has a round face, without the least resemblance
to those of her latter age. That in the royal mantle, of
which you know I have a copy, is the most repeated ; but
there is another with a longer and leaner face, which has
by far the most sensible look. She is in black, with a high
point head and band, a long train, and is sitting in a chair
of purple velvet. Before her knees stands her niece Madame
de Noailles 3, a child ; at a distance a view of Versailles or
St. Cyr, I could not distinguish which. We were shown
some rich religuaires, and the corpo santo that was sent to
her by the Pope. We were then carried into the public
room of each class. In the first, the young ladies, who
were playing at chess, were ordered to sing to us the choruses
of Athaliah *; in another, they danced minuets and country-
dances, while a nun, not quite so able as St. Cecilia, played
on a violin. In the others, they acted before us the proverbs
or conversations written by Madame de Maintenon for their
instruction — for she was not only their foundress but their
saint, and their adoration of her memory has quite eclipsed
3 Francoise d'Aubign6, daughter Adrien Maurice, Due de Noailles.
of the Comte d'Aubign6 ; m. (1698) * Eacine's Athalie.
1769] To George Montagu 319
the Virgin Mary. We saw their dormitory, and saw them
at supper ; and at last were carried to their archives, where
they produced volumes of her letters, and where one of the
nuns gave me a small piece of paper with three sentences in
her handwriting. I forgot to tell you that this kind dame,
who took to me extremely, asked me if we had many
convents and relics in England. I was much embarrassed
for fear of destroying her good opinion of me, and so said
we had but few now. Oh ! we went too to the apothecairie6,
where they treated us with cordials, and where one of the
ladies told me inoculation was a sin, as it was a voluntary
detention from mass, and as voluntary a cause of eating
gras. Our visit concluded in the garden, now grown very
venerable, where the young ladies played at little games
before us. After a stay of four hours we took our leave.
I begged the abbess's blessing ; she smiled, and said she
doubted I should not place much faith in it. She is a comely
old gentlewoman, and very proud of having seen Madame
de Maintenon. — Well ! was not I in the right to wish you
with me ? could you have passed a day more agreeably ?
I will conclude my letter with a most charming trait of
Madame de Mailly, which cannot be misplaced in such
a chapter of royal concubines. Going to St. Sulpice, after
she had lost the King's heart, a person present desired the
crowd to make way for her. Some brutal young officers
said, ' Comment, pour cette catin-la ! ' She turned to them,
and with the most charming modesty said, 'Messieurs,
puisque vous me connoissez, priez Dieu pour moi.' — I am
sure it will bring the tears into your eyes. Was she not
the Publican and Maintenon the Pharisee ? Good night ;
I hope I am going to dream of all I have been seeing. As
my impressions and my fancy, when I am pleased, are apt
to be strong, my night perhaps may still be more productive
» So in MS.
320 To Sir Horace Mann [i769
of ideas than the day has been. It will be charming indeed
if Madame de Cambis is the ruling tint. Adieu !
Yours ever,
H. W.
1276. To SIB HOEACE MANN.
Calais, Oct. 8, 1769.
Yotf see, my dear Sir, I am impatient to gather up the
thread of our correspondence, which my journey to Paris
interrupted. I have not, in truth, all the merit I could
wish in beginning my letter two or three days before it can
set out (for I intend it shall not be fit to send from hence),
but here I am, locked up by a favourable wind, a very
tantalizing circumstance. . . . 1 In short, this favourable gale
keeps all the vessels on the other coast, and will not suifer
a single one to step and fetch me. However, I shall wait
here, and not return to Paris, like my Lady Orford. Do
you know, that she has literally been here twice, and
whether from fear, or from illness, as she pretended, went
back to Paris, and, I believe, before I left it, was on her
return to Italy. I heard of nobody that saw her, but my
cousin the minister8, and Madame Geoffrin, who was not
at all flattered with this wise woman from the East coming
to worship her, but gave me a ridiculous account of the
empressement and homage of the Countess, who kissed her
all over with a pilgrim's fervour. She described, too,
a poor emaciated, low-spirited knight of St. Stephen3,
who is said to be a savant, but who, Madame Geoffrin
thinks, wasted in the occult sciences. Who is this poor
Paladin? and did you ever hear of a more absurd ex-
pedition ?
LETTER 1276. — * Passage omitted. des Affaires at Paris. Walpole.
2 Eobert Walpole, fourth son of s Cavalier Mozzi. Walpole.
Hoi atio, first Lord Walpole, Charg6
1769] To Sir Horace Mann 321
The absurdity of the French is not inferior. Instead of
vaunting his military prowess, they cry down Paoli as
a rank coward. I own I think he has not dignified the
catastrophe of his story, and I shall admire him still less,
if it is true, as the French say, that he has secured a great
fortune on the Continent ! but sure it is not their business
to lower their own conquest. The Prince de Beauvau4,
who is by no means the amiable man we thought he would
prove, but at once full of all the pride and meanness of
Versailles, told me that the Emperor, in a letter, had said
of Paoli, minuit praesentia famam. I do not believe it ; in
the first place, because even a commonplace quotation is
a pitch above an emperor, and, in the second place, because
you told me with what esteem the Emperor had spoken
of him. By our papers, I find that his praesentia has not at all
minuited his famam chez nous. You shall know more about
him when I arrive. As yet I have not heard whether he
joins Wilkes, or is enlisted by the ministry against my
Lord Chatham.
To be serious, I doubt affairs wear a very unpromising
aspect ; at least, I, who have heard nothing in my absence,
collect so much from the newspapers ; and if they strike
me in that light, what effect will they have upon you at
a greater distance ! I lament this the more deeply, as I
come from a place where I have seen how much we are
hated, and where I am certain there are such bad designs
against us. The Due de Choiseul will never forgive his
inferiority in the late war : his ambition is unbounded :
and if the times resemble those of Charles I, we shall find
in him another Eichelieu. I have no doubt of his having
already tampered with Wilkes ; but, as he dreads the pre-
dominant star of Lord Chatham, I dropped, as by accident,
4 Son to the Prince de Craon, where the Prince de Beaurati was
President of the Council at Florence, bronght np. WaZpole.
WALPOLE. VII
322 To Sir Horace Mann [1769
to a confidant of the Due's, that if the latter did not wish
a war, nothing could be so imprudent as to encourage
Wilkes, whose faction would bring back Lord Chatham ;
and Lord Chatham, war.
You do not doubt, I suppose, of the restless ambition of
Choiseul. Every step he takes marks that it is pointed
at us. He has settled the limits of their several dominions
both with Sardinia and the Empress-Queen ; consequently
avoided those rocks of offence. He has poured the Turks
on Eussia ; and he is so fond of that exploit, that before
me at his own house, he sent for a French gazette which
he had dictated himself, and read it — it was to assert the
advantages gained by the Ottomans. To his levity, in
truth, I trust much. It is equal to his daring, and com-
poses it. He is every instant on the point of falling by
provoking Madame du Barri ; and forgetting that his pre-
decessor, the Cardinal de Bernis, was the sacrifice of his
own insolence by insulting Madame de Pompadour. The
Due de Choiseul treads in the same steps. The present
journey to Fontainebleau will, I think, decide the victory,
unless the Due bends ; that is not without probability :
a fortnight ago the mistress sent for him to ask a favour
for a dependant. He replied, she might come to him. She
insisted, and he went ; and stayed above an hour ; and yet
did not grant what she asked. However, the length of the
visit did not look hostile. It is true, his sister, Madame de
Grrammont, and the Princess de Beauvau were absent. As
their violence has blown up this flame, they will not easily
suffer him to make his peace, by which their pride must be
sacrificed ; and as they will all be together at Fontaine-
bleau (and yet the Choiseul-women will not see or King or
mistress), it is a thousand to one but some eclat happens.
Madame de Mirepoix 5 is the soul of the opposite cabal ;
6 Sister of the Prince de Beauvau. Walpole.
1769] To Sir Horace Mann 323
no hatred ever transcended that between her and her sister
Beauvau. The Prince does not see his sister ; but though
so submissive a husband, trims, and is not ill with the
mistress. May these gentle dames continue their animosi-
ties ! I have a little hope in the Emperor, and that he will
not be a quiet spectator of the ascendant France is reas-
suming. We heard at Paris that some Austrian squadrons
are marching into Poland, in consequence, it was thought,
of the interview with the King of Prussia. How emperors
fall in love with this man ! I hope the Empress-Queen will
not deprive him of another Mend, as the Russian Empress
did of the first. It hurts me to be forced to wish success
to this latter Semiramis ; but it is one of the curses of
politics to couple one with those one hates ; and what
have I to do with politics ? I have done with them, and
am going back to trifle at Strawberry. Paris revived in
me that natural passion, the love of my country's glory ;
I must put it out ; it is a wicked passion, and breathes
war. It is self-love and vanity at bottom, and insolence
easily rekindles it. Well ! I will go home, love my neigh-
bour, and pray for peace. One does not pray heartily,
when one prays against one's inclination ; but there is
more merit ; and besides, Christianity delights in making
one contradict oneself. Adieu ! till London.
Arlington Street, Oct. 13th.
I arrived the night before last ; and do not find any
reason to change my opinion on the state of this country.
It approaches by fast strides to some great crisis, and to me
never wore so serious an air, except in the Rebellion. Not
professing prophecy from interested views, I shall be happy
to be mistaken.
Paoli is much approved here. The court have artfully
adopted him, and at least crushed one egg on which faction,
Y 2
324 To George Montagu [i?69
and her brood-hen, Mrs. Macaulay, would have been very
glad to have sat. He prefers being well with the Govern-
ment that protects him.
I found here the letter you sent to Mr. Morrice for me.
There is no confirmation of Austrian squadrons entering
Poland, but the Kussians have certainly beaten the Turks
considerably, before Prince Gallitzin's recall arrived. Part
of their fleet is on the coast of Yorkshire. Sir Edward
Hawke has no doubt of its mastering Constantinople at
once, if it arrives there. The plan is said to be the
Empress's own, against the opinion of her council. Adieu !
pray for the peace of Jerusalem.
1277. To GEOKGE MONTAGU.
Strawberry Hill, Oct. 16, 1769.
I ARRIVED at my own Louvre last Wednesday night, and
am now at my Versailles. Your last letter reached me but
two days before I left Paris, for I have been an age at
Calais and upon the sea. I could execute no commission
for you, and, in truth, you gave me no explicit one ; but
I have brought you a bit of china, and beg you will be
content with a little present, instead of a bargain. Said
china is, or will be soon, in the Custom House ; but I shall
have it, I fear, long before you come to London.
I am sorry those boys1 got at my tragedy. I beg you
would keep it under lock and key ; it is not at all food for
the public — at least not till I am food for worms, good Percy.
Nay, it is not an age to encourage anybody, that has the
least vanity, to step forth. There is a total extinction of
all taste: our authors are vulgar, gross, illiberal: the
theatre swarms with wretched translations, and ballad
operas, and we have nothing new but improving abuse.
LETTER 1277. — * Some guests of Montagu's, with whom he had read The
Mysterious Mother.
1769] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 325
I have blushed at Paris, when the papers came over
crammed with ribaldry, or with Garrick's insufferable
nonsense about Shakspeare. As that man's writings will
be preserved by his name, who will believe that he was
a tolerable actor? Gibber wrote us bad odes, but then
Gibber wrote The Careless Husband and his own Life,
which both deserve immortality. Garrick's prologues and
epilogues are as bad as his Pindarics and Pantomimes.
I feel myself here like a swan, that, after living six
weeks in a nasty pool upon a common, is got back into
its own Thames. I do nothing but plume and clean myself,
and enjoy the verdure and silver waves. Neatness and
greenth are so essential in my opinion to the country, that
in France, where I see nothing but chalk and dirty peasants,
I seem in a terrestrial purgatory that is neither town nor
country. The face of England is so beautiful, that I do
not believe Tempo or Arcadia were half so rural ; for both
lying in hot climates, must have wanted the turf of our
lawns. It is unfortunate to have so pastoral a taste, when
I want a cane more than a crook. We are absurd crea-
tures ; at twenty, I loved nothing but London.
Tell me when you shall be in town. I think of passing
most of my time here till after Christmas. Adieu !
Yours ever,
H.W.
1278. To THE COUNTESS or UPPER OSSORY.
Arlington Street, Oct. 26, 1769.
WHO would have thought, Madam, that your Ladyship
would thank me for having a tolerable memory ! Is there
any merit in remembering for a twelvemonth that the most
agreeable woman in the world was always partial and good
to me? Is it extraordinary that I should wish for her
coming to town that I may again have the honour of seeing
326 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [1769
her often, which I hope she will allow? I am certainly
the most meritorious person in the world, if these things
are merits. Nay, I will believe so : good Christians expect
infinite rewards for the smallest portion of desert that they
can screw together, and sift from all the chaff of their whole
lives ; and therefore, Madam, when two or three are gathered
together in thy name, and talk of thee, I am not only rejoiced
that you acknowledge it, but trust that you will reward
them in the fullness of time, by letting them see a great
deal of you this winter. You cannot imagine how pleased
I shall be, to be witness to your happiness, which undoubt-
edly does not surprise me. I have for some time known
the goodness and good sense of Lord Ossory, and your
Ladyship must be very partial to him indeed, before I shall
think your affection ill-placed.
I am much obliged to your Ladyship for the two epistles
of Voltaire, though I had seen them before. I own I think
that to Boileau one of the best things he ever wrote. Better
judges like the last best ; I am sorry to say they have not
convinced me. There are three separate lines in the two
epistles that strike me as perfection itself. The first is on
Cardinal Fleury —
Et gui n'ajffecta rien que le pouvoir supreme.
The second is the end of the same epistle,
S*ils ont les prejuges, fen guerirai les ombres.
The third is in the Trois Imposteurs,
Si Dieu n'existait pas, il faudrait I'inventer.
The two last are inimitably bold and sublime. The first
includes more wit and reflection than one almost ever saw
couched in so small a compass. At the same time, while
one admires such talents, can one help feeling a little con-
1769] To tJie Countess of Upper Ossory 327
tempt for the author ? Is it not creating himself the pope
of impiety to excommunicate the author of Les Trois Im-
posteurs, as if none but the head of any Church ought to dare
to be an unbeliever ? His low jealousy, too, against Boileau,
whose ghost he is always nipping and pinching when he
can, with his own almost ghostly fingers, is unworthy of
a man who does not want such little arts to secure fame.
When I have been mentioning such great names, how
shall I have the confidence, Madam, to shift the subject
to myself? I will hurry over it as fast as I can. When
I have the honour of seeing you, you will give me your
commands, and they shall be obeyed.
I am lingering in town with Lord Hertford and Mr. Con-
way, the latter of whom stays to see the event of poor
Mrs. Harris's1 illness. They have despaired of her for
some days: yesterday she took James's powder, and as
it had effect, there were faint hopes last night. I have just
heard her night was bad, but as the medicine has been
repeated I do not yet totally despair, having such confidence
in those powders that I almost believe they would cure
anything but the villainy of physicians. It reconciles me
to the gout that it has no occasion for them. There is a
little dignity, too, in it that consoles me ; an insignificant
man that grows old, wants something to give him a little
importance ; and with my meagre figure, what with its being
a little respectable, and what with its being a little comical,
I find the gout does not at all succeed ill with me. People pity
me at a distance, and smile when they see me, and as I am
not apt to be out of humour, altogether I am very well con-
tented. This last attack passed off in ten days, and I hope
your Ladyship's pity did not last longer. Not being
Lord Privy Seal, forgive me, Madam, if I am only your
Ladyship's, &c.
LETTER 1278.— * Mrs. Harris lived until 1774.
328 To Sir Horace Mann [i?69
1279. To SIB HOEACE MANN.
Strawberry Hill, Nov. 6, 1769.
BEFORE I receive your answer about him, I must tell
you that I have seen your friend Paoli. I found him last
week at court, and could not believe it when I was told
who he was. I had stood close by him for some minutes,
taking him for an English, at least for a Scotch officer.
Nobody sure ever had an air so little foreign ! He was
dressed in scarlet and gold, and the simplicity of his whole
appearance had not given me the slightest suspicion of
anything remarkable in him. Afterwards, in the circle,
as he again stood by me, he asked me some indifferent
question, without knowing me. I told him, without naming
myself, that you was my particular friend. He said he
had written many letters to you, but believed they had
all been intercepted. I replied, I would do him justice
and tell you so. The King and Queen both took great
notice of him. He has just made a tour to Bath, Oxford,
&c., and was everywhere received with much distinction ;
so Mrs. Macaulay, it seems, has not laid him under an
interdict.
I know not what to say to you upon politics. The im-
prudence of postponing the Parliament till after Christmas
has given time for a large number of petitions, and more
perhaps will follow, yet I do not think the general spirit
so violent as it should seem from these appearances. It is
impossible but some mob may be assembled everywhere
to sign a petition, and then such petition is called the sense
of the county, though in many it is nothing less ; and
besides the Scotch counties, the majority have not petitioned.
The court will, nay must, resist the dissolution of the
Parliament, and, if the members are not frightened for
their re-elections, they must be strongly against such a
1769] To Sir Horace Mann 329
measure : their seats have too recently cost them more than
they can afford. A dissolution would be big with every
evil imaginable. Yet I fear the tempest is mounted too
high, to evaporate without some serious mischief. The City
of London is full of faction. In short, the evils of vast
wealth, luxury, licence, and ambition, are ripened to a head.
These natural causes have operated more to our present
disorders than any specific reason. The times have pro-
duced the crisis, not particular men. They are times out
of which considerable men will grow — some great — I hope
some good : but few, I think, of the present actors will
be the better for the confusions we have in prospect. I sit
on the beach and contemplate the storm, but have not that
apathy of finding that
Suave mari magno turbantibtts aeguora ventis, &c.
I love the constitution I am used to, and wish to leave it
behind me ; and Eoman as my inclinations are, I do not
desire to see a Caesar on the stage, for the pleasure of
having another Brutus ; especially as Caesars are more
prolific than Brutuses.
I seemed to have judged right, when I thought Fontaine-
bleau would produce some crisis in the French ministry
too. The letters from Paris look as if the mistress gained
ground. The turn in favour of the Eussians is another
heavy blow to the Due de Choiseul. We persuade our-
selves that nothing can stop the Czarina's progress by land.
I have not so extraordinary an opinion of what her fleet
will do. But seven of her ships have yet arrived on our
coasts. They are sailed away to the Mediterranean. But
I have not much faith in crusadoes ; and yet I think they
will do more than if they had faith.
I hear ma bette sceur1 is at Lyons, and intends to visit
LKTTKB 1279.— l The Countess of Orford, Margaret Rolle. Walpole.
330 To Sir Horace Mann [i769
us in the spring. I do not know why she should think
the sea less tremendous in May than in September. Lord
Pembroke is not yet returned, though replaced in the
King's Bedchamber. As he was turned out for running
away with one young woman of fashion, I suppose he was
restored for carrying off another 2.
Lord Bute is said to be extremely ill again, and to be
again going abroad. The public will think his illness of
the nature of Lord Holland's, a fever raised by the petitions.
It is a proverb, that gold may be bought too dear. Favour
and gold both cost dear at present. Wilkes and Madame
du Barri are violent lessons of what the most unthought-of
objects may bring about. Who, that saw either of them
in a bagnio seven years ago, expected that England and
France would talk of nothing else ? Great men see nothing
but the great that are in their way. Lord Bute, on the
late King's death, apprehended nobody but Lord Chatham.
Methinks it would make a pretty Persian tale. Sultan
Nourmanzor, a very potent monarch, was yet kept in
continual alarms by the King of the Black Mountain, which
hung over his territories, and from which he was threatened
with daily invasion. He determined to deliver himself
from so formidable an enemy, and assembling a mighty
army, resolved to make himself master of the mountain.
As he marched at the head of his troops, for he was a very
brave Prince, he stumbled over a small pebble that lay
in his way, and being unwieldy and encumbered with
his robes, he could not recover himself, but falling flat on his
face, a prodigious diamond .that was set in front of his
turban was beaten into his forehead, and occasioned a dan-
2 ' Lord Pembroke was again made Venetian bride (he was then at
a Lord of the Bedchamber in 1769, Venice), the very night of her wed-
without applying ; and exactly at a ding.' (Memoirs of George III, ed.
time when he was said to have car- 1894, vol. i. p. 830.)
ried off another woman, a young
1769] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 331
gerous wound. The unskilfulness of the surgeons rendered
it mortal. The pebble was picked up and presented to the
monarch of the mountain, and, by the superstition of the
mountaineers, was reckoned an amulet, and preservative
against all the dangers of the state, nor would they exchange
it for the diamond that was the more immediate cause of
the death of their enemy. The pebble could not have hurt
him, if he had not possessed the diamond. Adieu I
1280. To THE HON. HENBY SEYMOUR CONWAY.
Strawberry Hill, Tuesday, Nov. 14, 1769.
I AM here quite alone, and did not think of going to
town till Friday for the Opera, which I have not yet seen.
In compliment to you and your Countess, I will make an
effort, and be there on Thursday: and will either dine
with you at your own house, or at your brother's ; which
you choose. This is a great favour, and beyond my Lord
Temple's journey to dine with my Lord Mayor1. I am
so sick of the follies of all sides, that I am happy to be at
quiet here, and to know no more of them than what I am
forced to see in the newspapers; and those I skip over
as fast as I can.
The account you give me of Lady was just the same
as I received from Paris. I will show you a very particular
letter I received by a private hand from thence; which
convinces me that I guessed right, contrary to all the wise,
that the journey to Fontainbleau would overset Monsieur
de Choiseul. I think he holds but by a thread, which will
snap soon. I am labouring hard with the Duchess2 to
procure the Duke of Richmond satisfaction in the favour
LETTER 1280. — l In the second 2 The Duchess of ChoiseuL Wai-
mayoralty of William Beckford. polt.
Walpde.
332 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [i769
he has asked about his duchy 3 ; but he shall not know it
till it is completed, if I can be so lucky as to succeed.
I think I shall, if they do not fall immediately.
You perceive how barren I am, and why I have not
written to you. I pass my time in clipping and pasting
prints ; and do not think I have read forty pages since
I came to England. I bought a poem called Trinculo's Trip
to the Jubilee*-, having been struck with two lines in an
extract in the papers,
There the ear-piercing fife,
And the ear-piercing wife
Alas ! all the rest, and it is very long, is a heap of
unintelligible nonsense, about Shakspeare, politics, and
the Lord knows what. I am grieved that, with our
admiration of Shakspeare, we can do nothing but write
worse than ever he did. One would think the age studied
nothing but his Love's Labour Lost and Titus Andronicus.
Politics and abuse have totally corrupted our taste. Nobody
thinks of writing a line that is to last beyond the next
fortnight. We might as well be given up to controversial
divinity. The times put me in mind of the Constantino-
politan empire ; where, in an age of learning, the subtlest
wits of Greece contrived to leave nothing behind them, but
the memory of their follies and acrimony. Milton did not
write his Paradise Lost till he had outlived his politics.
With all his parts, and noble sentiments of liberty, who
would remember him for his barbarous prose ? Nothing is
more true than that extremes meet. The licentiousness of
the press makes us as savage as our Saxon ancestors, who
8 Of Aubigne1. Walpole, — ' Le patentee de pairie a cause de sa re-
duc de Kichmond m'a par!6 aveo ligion.' (Madame du Deffand to
beaucoup de confiance . . . de son Horace Walpole, Nov. 2, 1769.)
duchd ; les difficult^ qn'il trouve, * The Stratford Jubilee took place
on plutdt 1'impossibilitd de faire en- in Sept. 1769.
registrar au parlement ses lettres ou
1769] To Sir Horace Mann 333
could only set their marks; and an outrageous pursuit
of individual independence, grounded on selfish views,
extinguishes genius as much as despotism does. The
public good of our country is never thought of by men
that hate half their country. Heroes confine their ambition
to be leaders of the mob. Orators seek applause from their
faction, not from posterity ; and ministers forget foreign
enemies, to defend themselves against a majority in Parlia-
ment. When any Caesar has conquered Gaul, I will excuse
him for aiming at the perpetual dictature. If he has only
jockeyed somebody out of the borough of Veii or Falernum,
it is too impudent to call himself a patriot or a statesman.
Adieu !
1281. To SIB HOBACE MANN.
Arlington Street, Nov. 30, 1769.
IF I had writ to you last week, I should have told you
that the scene brightens up for the court, that the petitions
begin to grow ridiculous, and that the opposition have
succeeded lately in no one material point. But as our
climate is changeable, some new clouds have appeared in
the sky. The Irish are the new actors, and will give
trouble ; though they began their session with a com-
plaisance not much expected from them, considering how
wrong their heads are. After voting the very necessary
augmentation of three thousand men, they have thrown
out a money bill, and it is a question whether their Parlia-
ment must not be prorogued with a high hand. As any
national calamity is a gain to aspiring patriots, this
contretemps is very pleasing to ours. Then the talk of
a war has done my Lord Chatham more good than
hellebore. It is worth putting off a fit of madness,
when one has a chance of being distracted upon a larger
334 To Sir Horace Mann [1759
scale. I do not seriously think France ready for war, but
we are strangely tempting ; and as they outsee everything
they hear, they will be apt to think us in greater confusion
than we are. Yet, if they have tolerable intelligence, they
must know that we have a fleet to make their hearts ache.
Our navy never was so formidable, and in such brilliant
order.
By the letters you must have received, you will have
found how punctual I have been from the moment of my
return. I believe I have received all yours. The last
shocked me with the account of the French barbarities in
Corsica. Why are they not trumpeted all over Europe?
Cowardice in the attack was too naturally followed by
cruelty after conquest — yet we call Iroquois barbarians !
I believe Choiseul thoroughly exasperated, but did not
think he had so feminine a mind. Nothing has answered
but their diminutive triumph over the poor Corsicans.
They are totally baffled in Sweden ; and nothing ever
answered worse than the holy Turkish war they have
excited against the Czarina — yet methinks I wish her fleet
was not so long hobbling into the Mediterranean ! If the
Pope has disappointed France and Spain, he has done no
more than I foretold. He imitated the lowly virtues of
Sixtus Quintus before his exaltation too much, not to end
a Jesuit. Is it true that he cites the King of Prussia as an
intercessor for the order?
The Due de Choiseul maintains his ground against the
mistress. She has lately been so well bred as, when at
whist with the King, to make faces at the minister, if he
was her partner. Solomon thought this a little too strong,
and has reprimanded his beloved. Yet, considering that he
loves canticles better than war, I should think she would
recover her advantages if the minister should involve the
pacific monarch in another war.
1769] To Sir Horace Mann 335
You may imagine we have no kind of news but politics,
considering how much we have of the latter. It is our
meat, drink, and clothing — meat to our printers, drink to
our ministers, who settle all over a bottle, and is intended
for clothing to our Patriots. We have always talked of the
goodness of our constitution. It must be a very tough one,
if it can stand all its distempers and all its physicians. The
latter have not even the modesty of the Pharisees. None of
them blush to cast the first stone at a sister sinner : nor does
the sister obey the precept, ' Go, and sin no more.'
I have heard the true history of a certain Countess's
uncertain wanderings. It seems, there is a Cavalier Mozzi,
who, you must know, attends her peregrinations, as Cytheris
did Antony's ; but who not having it so much in his power
to contribute to her pleasures, pleads very bad health,
though even beyond the truth. I should not have thought
her likely to be governed by an epuise — but so it is. He
has enriched himself to her cost, and fearing that her son
might cross his interest, dragged her back twice from
Calais. This came from a physician who accompanied
them, and is now here ; and who affirms that the cavalier
often pressed him to be of parties at houses of pleasure,
inconsistent with the fidelity of a true knight.
I believe I did not tell you how I was diverted at Paris
with Monsieur d'Aubeterre ], their late Ambassador at
Rome. I was taking notice that all the new houses at
Paris were built a la grecque. He said, with all the
contempt that ignorance feels when it takes itself for
knowledge, ' Bon ! there is nothing in that ; it is all stolen
from the frieze of the Pantheon.' With much difficulty
I discovered that he thought the Doric fret comprehended
all Greek architecture. This was after passing six years
LETTER 1281.— l Joseph Henri Bouchard d'Esparbez (1714-1788), Marquis
d'Aubeterre.
336 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [1769
at Kome. As all other nations observe most what they
have never seen before, the French never look but at what
they have been used to see all their lives. If something
foreign arrives at Paris, they either think they invented it,
or that it has always been there. It is lucky for us that
D'Aubeterres are common among them. Adieu !
1282. To THE COUNTESS OF UPPER OSSORY.
Arlington Street, Dec. 5, 1769.
I HAD too great regard to your Ladyship's amusement to
send you, though you ordered me, such old trash as my
writings, which are too trifling and careless to deserve
a second reading. When you come to town, which I trust
will be sooner than you announce, I will look out for
anything your Ladyship wants, if you still should believe
you want any ; but it is impossible in cold blood to make
up a packet of one's own rubbish, and send it deliberately
into the country. If there was anything new, but what
never is new, political pamphlets, I would send it. Voltaire's
pieces I return with thanks, and beg pardon for having
forgotten them. George Selwyn is, I think, the only person
remaining who can strike wit out of the present politics.
On hearing Calcraft wanted to be Earl of Ormond, he said
it would be very proper, as no doubt there had been many
Butlers in his family.
Crauford is actually gone to Paris, only I suppose that he
may not be back in time for the meeting of the Parliament,
unless Lord Holland drives him home. Mrs. George Gren-
ville * is supposed to be dead by this time, as the express of
yesterday said she was given over. Dr. Duncan went
down, but with no hopes. Lady Betty Germain8 is very
LETTER 1282.— l She died on Dec. 6, 1769.
2 She died on Dec. 16, 1769.
1769] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 337
near it too, and I suppose the hopes and fears of her
legatees are on tiptoe.
There is a new comedy at Covent Garden, called The
Brothers') that has great success, though I am told it is
chiefly owing to the actors ; an obligation I should not have
thought any play would have had to the present actors at
either house. From the operas I am almost beaten out.
As if either the Guadagni or the Zamparin had a voice,
there are two parties arisen who alternately encore both in
every song, and the operas last to almost midnight. What
a charm there must be in contradiction, when it can prevent
one's being tired of what one is tired to death.
Monsieur de Chatelet is expected this evening with the
olive branch in his mouth. Madame does not come yet,
which I am very sorry for, being so unpopular as to like
her extremely, — but I choose to be unpopular, lest I should
be chosen alderman for some ward or other, and there is
one just now vacant. I hope they will elect Mrs. Macaulay.
I believe I have told your Ladyship all the news except
politics, and those I endeavour to know as little of as I can,
having nothing to do any longer with either dissolution or
resurrection ; nor a grain of virtue that I intend to carry
to market, and which I think is the only commodity that
sells as dear at second-hand as it did when it was first
exposed for sale. I think of Patriots and statesmen alike,
and pretty much as Voltaire does of authors in the last two
lines of the enclosed —
Entre les beaux esprits on verra I'union,
Mais qui pourra jamais souper avec Freron ?
I hope I need say nothing to convince Lord Ossory of my
regard. If I do, your Ladyship, I am sure, can best add any-
thing that is wanted to make it agreeable to him, to increase
that regard, he must bring your Ladyship soon to London.
1 By Richard Cumberland.
WALPOLE. VII
338 To George Montagu [i?69
1283. To GEOKGKE MONTAGU.
Arlington Street, Dec. 14, 1769.
I CANNOT be silent, when I feel for you. I doubt not but
the loss of Mrs. Trevor is very sensible to you, and I am
heartily sorry for you. One cannot live any time, and not per-
ceive the world slip away, as it were, from under one's feet.
One's friends, one's connections drop off, and indeed reconcile
one to the same passage — but why repeat these things ? I
do not mean to write a fine consolation ; all I intended was
to tell you that I cannot be indifferent to what concerns you.
I know as little how to amuse you. News there are none
but politics, and politics there will be as long as we have
a shilling left. They are no amusement to me, except in
seeing two or three sets of people worry one another, for
none of whom I care a straw.
Mr. Cumberland has produced a comedy called The
Brothers. It acts well, but reads ill, though I can distin-
guish strokes of Mr. Bentley in it. Very few of the
characters are marked, and the serious ones have little
nature, and the comic ones are rather too much marked —
however, the three middle acts diverted me very well.
I saw the Bishop of Durham * at Carlton House, who told
me he had given you a complete suit of armour. I hope you
will have no occasion to lock yourself in it, though, between
the fools and the knaves of the present time, I don't know
but we may be reduced to defend our castles.
If you retain any connections with Northampton, I should
be much obliged to you if you could procure thence a print
of an Alderman Backwell 2. It is valuable for nothing but
its rarity, and is not to be met with but there. I would
give eight or ten shillings rather than not have it.
LETTER 1288. — * Hon. Bichard 8 Edward Backwell (d. 1683),
Trevor. Alderman and goldsmith.
1769] To Lady Mary Coke 339
When shall you look towards us ? how does your brother
John? make my compliments to him. I need not say to
you how much I am yours ever,
H. W.
1284. To LADY MABY COKE.
Arlington Street, Dec. 14th, 1769.
LADY Betty Mackinsy tells me, Madam, that you have
asked what is become of me, and why nobody mentions me.
I cannot wonder they do not, but I am extremely flattered
with your inquiring. When one is far from being a novelty,
or when one creates no novelties, one is easily forgotten in
such a world as London. I write no libels, want no place,
and occasion no divorce. What rights have I then to
occupy a paragraph in a letter? Quiet virtues or small
faults are drowned in the noise and nonsense of the times.
But this is more than was necessary. I hope it will procure
me a considerable return of information about yourself,
Lady Mary. I hear you have seen Voltaire and learned
many particulars about Madame de Sevigne and the
Grignans. I am ready to print all you shall impart. If
any draughtsmen grow in that part of the world, pray
bring over a drawing of Grignan. You should visit
Avignon and inquire after good King Rene, the father
of Margaret of Anjou, and his portrait and his paintings ;
and you must read the life of Petrarch in three quartos,
and make a pilgrimage to the Sainte Baume1. These
journeys will amuse you more than Aix. Then you may
learn all you can about the Parliaments of Love and the
Provenfal poets. Such pursuits are much more amusing
than Intendants and Intendantes, and their awkward imita-
LBTTKR 1284. — Not in C. ; reprinted pilgrimage in the mountains of
from Letters and Journal* of Lady Sainte-Baume in Provence (now in
Kary Coke, vol. iii. p. 193, n. 1. the department of Var). It was de-
1 A famous convent and place of stroyed during the Revolution.
Z 2
340 To Lady Mary Coke [i?69
tions of the manners of Paris. I do not attempt to tell
you any news, as your sisters are such excellent corre-
spondents. Lady Straff ord looks particularly well: Lady
Ailesbury I think quite recovered. Our box is rarely
inhabited, the two last being but just arrived, and your
sister ready to return. The operas are commended and
deserted. I desert but cannot commend them. Lady Betty
Germain, I should think, would be dead before you can
receive this. Our loo parties are receiving a great loss by
the departure of Mello*, who is suddenly recalled to fill
a chief place in the ministry, on the death of Monsieur
d'Oyras's brother. Everybody regrets him, and he, I believe,
will regret us. Madame du Chatelet is returned with her
husband ; but take notice, Madam, I do not announce this
to you as good news. Such a scanty letter as this is scarce
worth sending so far, yet as it is embalmed in gratitude,
I trust it will keep sweet. A month hence there will be
news enough, but as there will probably be none that will
do us honour, I am rather glad to write during the least
interval of folly: one does not blush while one's letter is
opened at a foreign bureau. Poor Mrs. Harris, though out
of danger, does not recover her strength. She spoke to me
in the warmest terms t'other night of your Ladyship's
goodness to her. I hope you are well guarded with James'
powders. When I have so little to say for myself, you will
not wonder, Madam, nobody said anything for me, but
I could not help expressing my obligations and assuring
you that
I am always
Lady Mary's
Most devoted
Humble servant,
HOR. WALPOLE.
2 Portuguese Ambassador in London.
1769] To the Eev. William Cole 341
1285. To THE BEV. WILLIAM COLE.
DEAR SlR, Arlington Street, Dec. 14, 1769.
This is merely a line to feel my way, and to know how to
direct to you. Mr. Granger thinks you are established at
Milton, and thither I address it. If it reaches you, you will
be so good as to let me know, and I will write again soon.
Yours ever.
1286. To THE EEV. WILLIAM COLE.
DEAR SlR, Arlington Street, Dec. 21, 1769.
I am very grateful for all your communications and for
the trouble you are so good as to take for me. I am glad
you have paid Jackson, though he is not only dear (for the
prints he has got for me are very common), but they are not
what I wanted, and I do not believe were mentioned in my
list. However, as paying him dear for what I do not want
may encourage him to hunt for what I do want, I am very
well content he should cheat me a little. I take the liberty
of troubling you with a list I have printed (to avoid copying
it several times), and beg you will be so good as to give it to
him, telling him these are exactly what I do want, and no
others. I will pay him well for any of these, especially
those marked thus x ; and still more for those with double
or treble marks. The print I want most is the Jacob Hall.
I do not know whether it is not one of the ' London Cries,'
but he must be very sure it is the right. I will let you
know certainly when Mr. West comes to town, who has one.
I shall be very happy to contribute to your garden ; and
if you will let me have exact notice in February how to send
LKTTEE 1285. — Not in C. ; printed in 4to ed. (1818) of letters to Cole,
p. 58.
342 To the Rev. William Cole [i?69
the shrubs, they shall not fail you ; nor anything else by
which I can pay you any part of my debts. I am much
pleased with the Wolsey and Cromwell, and beg to thank
you and the gentleman from whom they came. Mr. Tyson's
etchings will be particularly acceptable. I did hope to have
seen or heard of him in October. Pray tell him he is a visit
in my debt, and that I will trust him no longer than to next
summer. Mr. Bentham J, I find, one must trust and trust
without end. It is a pity so good a sort of man should be
so faithless. Make my best compliments, however, to him,
and to my kind host and hostesa
I found my dear old blind friend at Paris perfectly well,
and am returned so myself. London is very sickly, and
full of bilious fevers, that have proved fatal to several
persons, and in my Lord Gower's family have even seemed
contagious. The weather is uncommonly hot, and we want
frost to purify the air.
I need not say, I suppose, that the names scratched out
in my list are of such prints as I have got since I printed it,
and therefore what I no longer want. If Mr. Jackson only
stays at Cambridge till the prints drop into his mouth,
I shall never have them. If he would take the trouble of
going to Bury, Norwich, Ely, Huntingdon, and such great
towns, nay, look about in inns, I do not doubt but he would
find at least some of them. He would be no loser by
taking pains for me ; but I doubt he chooses to be a great
gainer without taking any. I shall not pay for any that
are not in my list — but I ought not to trouble you, dear
Sir, with these particulars. It is a little your own fault, for
you have spoiled me.
LETTER 1286. — l Rev. James Ben- in the publication of Bentham's
tham (1708-1794), Minor Canon of History of Ely Cathedral, which was
Ely ; at this time Vicar of Feltwell begun in 1756, and published in
St. Nicholas in Norfolk. Horace 1771.
Walpole probably refers to the delay
1769] To Sir Horace Mann 343
Mr. Essex distresses me by his civility. I certainly would
not have given him that trouble, if I had thought he
would not let me pay him. Be so good as to thank him
for me, and to let me know if there is any other way I could
return the obligation. I hope, at least, he will make me
a visit at Strawberry Hill, whenever he comes westward.
I shall be very impatient to see you, dear Sir, both there
and at Milton.
Your faithful humble servant,
HOB. WALPOLE.
1287. To SIB HOEACE MANN.
Arlington Street, Dec. 81, 1769.
I WROTE to you on the first of this month, and am now
going to write on the last of it, to close a year that has laid
so many ominous eggs. Whether the next will crush or
hatch them, we shall soon have some chance of foreseeing.
In some respects, the prospect is a little mended. The
petitions have contracted an air of ridicule from the
ridiculous undertakers that have been forced to parade into
different counties to supply the place of all the gentlemen,
who have disdained to appear and countenance them. Lord
Chatham, however, who is so necessitous that he is forced
to put to sea again, and to hope for a storm, dresses out the
cause in as big words as he can ; but as Wilkes's virtue is
more in fashion than his Lordship's eloquence, and as that
martyr has quarrelled, in print, with both Demosthenes and
Cicero, Chatham and Grenville, the two latter gain no
popularity. The riots, that were so hopefully nursed up
against the execution of the weavers, were very near falling
on the heads of the tribunes, Townshend ' and Sawbridge * ;
LETTER 1287. — l James Townshend * John Sawbridge (d. 1796), M.P.
(d. 1787), M.P. for West Looe. for Hythe. He was an ardent sup-
344 To Sir Horace Mann [l?69
and they were glad at the second to pacify the waves ;
praestat componere. Ireland, that was on the point of falling
into the last confusion by a prorogation of the Parliament,
which the opposition had incurred the penalty of, by reject-
ing a trifling money bill before the capital money bills were
passed, is saved by the prorogation being prudently deferred
till this great object was carried, and a prorogation now
would have very little consequence.
It is not less fortunate that the extreme distress of France
prevents her from interfering (take notice I say openly) in
our confusions. Monsieur du Chatelet is returned, as mild
and pacific as if Sir Edward Hawke was lying before Brest
with our late thunderbolt in his hand. Their distress for
money is certainly extreme. Dinvaux (Choiseul's favourite
Comptroller-General) has been forced to resign, re infectd,
and it is said that the Due declined to name another, urging,
that having recommended the two last to no purpose, he
desired the Chancellor might find one. As Maupeou8 is of the
opposite faction, his naming the new Comptroller-General
has but an ill look for the minister — at least it is plain that
Choiseul sees the impossibility of making brick without
straw, and chooses to miscarry no more. I have been told
here that even their army is unpaid. I may add, to the
amendment of our prospect, that the City itself has taken
alarm, and does not care to give itself up to the new
levellers. The latter having attempted to change the
Common Council this Christmas, have not succeeded in
carrying above eight new members.
This is all mighty well: symptoms are comforts, not
porter of Wilkes, and as Sheriff of sured the populace that he had done
London returned him five times as all in his power to save the criminals.
member for Middlesex. Sawbridge 8 Ken6 Nicolas Charles Auguste
was Lord Mayor in 1775-6. At the de Maupeou (1714-1792). He was
execution of two weavers, condemned generally detested, and was disgraced
for destroying looms, Sawbridge as- and exiled in 1774.
1760] To Sir Horace Mann 345
cures. Opposition threatens, grave men shake their heads ;
many fancy they fear, and many do fear. The best observers
see no attention, no system, and truly very slender abilities
in the opposite scale ! yet I think the ferment will dissipate.
I have seen the Pretender at Derby, the House of Lords
striding to aristocracy at the end of the last reign, the
crown making larger steps at the beginning of this. The
mob are now led on to the destruction of the constitution :
why should the people, the least formidable part, though
the most impetuous in the onset, be more successful than
the other branches? The whole legislature, too, is now
engaged in one cause.
Methinks these various vibrations of the scale show how
excellently well the constitution is poised. But what
signifies anticipating what nine days will give some light
into? Yet, administration has a difficult game to play,
when both great firmness and great temper are absolutely
necessary. The licentiousness of abuse surpasses all example.
The most savage massacre of private characters passes for
sport ; but we have lately had an attack made on the King
himself, exceeding the North Briton. Such a paper has
been printed by the famous Junius, whoever he is, that it
would scarce have been written before Charles I was in
Carisbrook Castle. The Dukes of Gloucester and Cumberland
are as little spared ; the former for having taken a wife for
himself — so says the North Briton ; observe, I do not say so ;
and the latter, for having taken another man's — for opposite
actions are equally criminal in the spectacles of opposition,
the two glasses of which are always made, the one to see black
as white, the other white as black, and also both to see that
white and black are both black. To be sure, the younger
Highness has had the mishap of being surprised, at least
once, with my Lady Grosvenor, who is actually discarded by
her Lord. Indeed there was none of that proof which my
346 To Sir Horace Mann [1770
Lady Townshend once said there was in another case, when,
being asked if there was any proof, she said, ' Lord, child,
she was all over proof.' In the present case the lovers were
only locked into a room together.
Well ! we are not singular. Another Junius has appeared
in Portugal. There it seems they write satires with a club
— the first instance, I suppose, of thrashing a King *. His
Majesty received two blows on his shoulder and his arm,
intended, d la tJPunienne, at his head. The Queen instantly
called for a gun to shoot the bruiser herself. ' No,' said the
King, 'arrest him.' They tell a melancholy story for the
assassin ; that, having lost a commission, he gave a memorial
to the King, who bade him give it to the Secretary at War,
which the poor creature did not think a likely method of
redress. He was then prosecuted for not paying his tax
out of nothing. Despair carried him to the fountain head ;
yet I doubt M. d'Oeyras will discover a plot ; and lop some
more noble heads. I have often said, and oftener think, that
this world is a comedy to those that think, a tragedy to those that
feel — a solution of why Democritus laughed and Heraclitus
wept. The only gainer is History, which has constant
opportunities of showing the various ways in which men
can contrive to be fools and knaves. The record pretends
to be written for instruction, though to this hour no mortal
has been the better or wiser for it. Adieu !
P.S., Jan. 2, 1770.
Last night we heard that the Lord Lieutenant has pro-
rogued the Irish Parliament for three months ; but,
fortunately, the money bills were passed first.
* Joseph I; d. 1777.
I77o] To Lord Hailes 347
1288. To LORD HAILES.
SIB, Arlington Street, Jan. 1, 1770.
I have read with great pleasure and information your
History of Scottish Councils. It gave me much more
satisfaction than I could have expected from so dry
a subject. It will be perused, do not doubt it, by men of
taste and judgement ; and it is happy that it will be read
without occasioning a controversy. The curse of modern
times is, that almost everything does create controversy,
and that men who are willing to instruct or amuse the
world have to dread malevolence and interested censure,
instead of receiving thanks. If your part of our country
is at all free from that odious spirit, you are to be envied.
In our region we are given up to every venomous mis-
chievous passion, and as we behold all the public vices
that raged in and destroyed the remains of the Roman
Commonwealth, so I wish we do not experience some of
the horrors that brought on the same revolution. When
we see men who call themselves patriots and friends of
liberty attacking the House of Commons, to what, Sir,
can you and I, who are really friends of liberty, impute
such pursuits, but to interest and disappointed ambition?
When we see, on one hand, the prerogative of the crown
excited against Parliament, and on the other, the King and
royal family traduced and insulted in the most shameless
manner, can we believe that such a faction is animated by
honesty or love of the constitution? When, as you very
sensibly observe, the authors of grievances are the loudest
to complain of them, and when those authors and their
capital enemies shake hands, embrace, and join in a common
cause, which set can we believe most or least sincere ? And
when every set of men have acted every part, to whom shall
348 To Sir Horace Mann [1770
the well-meaning look up ? What can the latter do, but sit
with folded arms and pray for miracles? Yes, Sir, they may
weep over a prospect of ruin too probably approaching, and
regret a glorious country nodding to its fall, when victory,
wealth, and daily universal improvements, might make it
the admiration and envy of the world ! Is the crown to be
forced to be absolute ! Is Caesar to enslave us, because he
conquered Gaul! Is some Cromwell to trample on us,
because Mrs. Macaulay approves the army that turned out
the House of Commons,, the necessary consequence of such
mad notions! Is eloquence to talk or write us out of
ourselves ? or is Catiline to save us, but so as ly fire ? Sir,
I talk thus freely, because it is a satisfaction, in ill-looking
moments, to vent one's apprehensions in an honest bosom.
You will not, I am sure, suffer my letter to go out of your
own hands. I have no views to satisfy or resentments to
gratify. I have done with the world, except in the hopes
of a quiet enjoyment of it for the few years I may have to
come ; but I love my country, though I desire and expect
nothing from it, and I would wish to leave it to posterity,
as secure and deserving to be valued, as I found it.
Despotism, or unbounded licentiousness, can endear no
nation to any honest man. The French can adore the
monarch that starves them, and banditti are often attached
to their chief ; but no good Briton can love any constitution
that does not secure the tranquillity and peace of mind
of all.
1289. To SIB HORACE MANN.
Arlington Street, Jan. 10, 1770.
THE great day l is over, and you will not be sorry to hear
the event of it in both Houses. Without doors everything
was quiet, except some cries in favour of Wilkes. Lord
LETTER 1289. — 1 The opening of Parliament on Jan. 9, 1770,
1770] To Sir Horace Mann 349
Chatham, who, Lord Temple said, was grown so violent that
he could not moderate him, made his appearance and two
long speeches, but, like an old beauty in an unfashionable
dress, which became her in her youth, he found that his
charms are no longer killing. Lord Mansfield answered
his first speech, and Lord Sandwich defied any lord in the
House to make sense out of the second. The object of the
day was to create a breach between the two Houses, by an
amendment proposed by Lord Chatham to the address in
which the House should inquire into the grievance of the
Middlesex election. Their Lordships were so little disposed
to quarrel with their good brethren the Commons, though
the Chancellor2 himself laboured the point against the
court, that at ten at night the motion was rejected by an
hundred to thirty-six. Old Myra, in her fardingale, will
probably not expose herself again to neglect this session.
The other House sat till one in the morning, where
the court also triumphed ; though Lord Granby and the
Solicitor-General Dunning deserted to the minority ; yet the
latter were but 138 to 254. Thus ends the mighty bluster
of petitions ; which, notwithstanding all the noise and
labour bestowed on them, have not yet been presented from
about nine or ten counties of the fifty-two. They would
come limping now to veiy little purpose. The most serious
part is the defection of Lord Granby ; for though he has
sunk his character by so many changes, a schism in the
army would be very unpleasant, especially as there are men
bad enough to look towards rougher divisions than Parlia-
mentary. I hope the ministers will have sense and temper
enough to stop the progress of this wound. I shall not
think them very wise if they dismiss the Chancellor *. Such
union in the whole legislature will reduce the present
factions to insignificance, if not attended by presumption
2 Lord Camden. Walpole,
350 To Sir Horace Mann [mo
and excess of confidence. The clouds that hung over us
are certainly dispelled by the success of yesterday ; but, as
folly assembled them, it may assemble them again. Yet,
when I say clouds are dispersed, you will understand only
those vapours drawn up into petitions. Where so many
caldrons full of passions are boiling, they are not extin-
guished by one wet sheet of votes.
Still it is most fortunate that France is so utterly unable
to profit of our difficulties. Dinvaux, M. de Choiseul's
favourite Comptroller-General, has been obliged to resign ;
yet I believe the defect of resources was more in their
circumstances than in the man. Madame du Barri has been
raining honours and preferments on her creatures : Madame
de Mirepoix has obtained Us grandes entrees ; so has the
Comte de Broglie ; and Monsieur de Castries has had a
new military post created for him. These look to me as
signals fixed to warn the minister to resign.
Much, I own, I do not expect from the Kussian fleet,
though I do not believe in the great naval force which,
the French pretend, is prepared at Constantinople. It will
be unlucky for the faithful, if the Czarina does demolish
the Ottoman Empire, that the present generation will not
trouble themselves to prove this era foretold by the
Kevelations. The abasement of the Pope is a terrible
counterpart to such a triumph.
Friday, 12th.
Though the court is singing lo Paeans, the campaign is
far from being at an end. A most unheard-of attack has
been made on the House of Commons. Sir George Savile,
a man of great fortune, spotless character, and acute though
injudicious head, has twice told them to their faces that
they sit illegally, having betrayed their trust, and that he
was ready to receive the punishment for telling them so.
Burke, not quite so rich, nor immaculate, but of better
mo] To Sir Horace Mann 351
abilities, has twice said as much, and allowed that he ought
to be sent to the Tower for what he said, but knew their
guilt was too great to let them venture to commit him.
Hitherto this language has been borne ; but as there is not
so great a mule as a martyr, I have no doubt but these two
saints will insist on receiving the crown of glory ; and, it is
said, many more will demand the honour of sharing their
cross. This will be a more respectable rubric than Wilkes's.
We shall see whether Saints Simon and Jude or St. Beel-
zebub will have most followers. Nay, but this is very
unpleasant ! It urges fast to sanguinary decision. I hear
too that the victors will certainly dismiss the Chancellor,
and that Lord Granby will resign s in consequence. More
and more madness ! What has the ministry and Parliament
to do, but to lie by and let all -the provocation take its rise
from the opposite faction? Is it wise to furnish sedition
with reasons ?
There is a tolerable episode opened in Ireland, where the
Lord Lieutenant has been forced to prorogue the Parliament
for three months ; so nearly do we tread in the steps of
1641 ! I sit by, unconnected with all parties, but viewing
the whole with much concern, and wishing I could put my
trust in any for delivering us out of these calamities ; but
I doubt it is too far gone to subside without a convulsion ;
and in what can a convulsion end but in the destruction of
our constitution ? What hopes has liberty, whether Charles
or Oliver prevail? As some revolution may happen any
day, be cautious for your own sake what you reply to me.
I always say less than I could, because I consider how
many post-house ordeals a letter must pass ; and I am not
desirous our enemies should know more than it is vain to
attempt to keep from them. Adieu !
3 He was Master-General of the Ordnance.
352 To Sir Horace Mann [1770
1290. To SIB HORACE MANN.
Arlington Street, Jan. 18, 1770.
AFFAIRS are so serious, and in so critical a situation, that
I am sure you would not think my letters too frequent if
I wrote every post. Nothing proves the badness of generals,
like an ill use of a great victory. Ours have not hurt their
own success by neglecting to pursue it, but by pursuing it
too far. Lord Huntingdon was turned out the next day,
not for having joined the enemy, but merely for having
absented himself : for him, he has played the fool ; he has
no strength of his own, and had no support but the King ;
and so falls unpitied. Lord Bristol was immediately trans-
ferred from the Privy Seal to be Groom of the Stole. Lord
Coventry, already more than wavering towards the opposi-
tion, seized that pretence of quarrelling, and resigned his
post in the Bedchamber.
A more unlucky event is the resignation of the Duke of
Beaufort, who took up the same minute for giving up his
Mastership of the Horse to the Queen, because he could not
wrench the lieutenancy of two Welsh counties from Morgan
of Tredegar, the old Whig enemy of his house, and the
more potent in Parliament. However, as the Duke was
the first convert of his family from Jacobitism, his defection
is to be lamented, and may carry back some of the Tories.
But the most imprudent step has been the dismission of
the Chancellor, and that before any preparation was made
for a successor. The Seals were indeed privately offered to
Lord Mansfield, who refused them, but published the offer ;
and then to Mr. Yorke ; but the Chancellor heard the news
by common report, before he had received the least notifica-
tion of his disgrace. Though I believe he did not intend to
remain in office, these slights will not have soothed him.
1770] To Sir Horace Mann 353
They have hurried on, too, the resignation of Lord Granby,
who yesterday gave up the command of the army and the
Ordnance, only reserving his regiment of Blues.
You may imagine how these events have raised the spirits
and animosity of the opposition ; but the greatest blow is
yet to come. Mr. Yorke, the night before last, absolutely
declined the Seals, though the great object of his life and of
his variations; but terror and Lord Kockingham pulled
more forcibly the other way. There is nobody else ; the
Chief Justice Wilmot's health will not allow him to take
them, and the Attorney-General 1 cannot be spared from the
House of Commons, where it is supposed Dunning, the
Solicitor-General, will follow his friend the Chancellor,
especially as he spoke on the same side the first day. When
the Seals go a-begging, and the army is abandoned by the
popular general, you will not think the circumstances of
administration very flourishing. Well! you will not be
more astonished than I was yesterday, at four o'clock, to
hear that Mr. Yorke had just accepted, and is Chancellor.
The rage of the opposition speaks the importance of this
acquisition to the court. It will be great indeed if it stops
the tide of resignations. The ministers have gained still
more time by an accident; the Speaker2 has been seized
with a paralytic disorder, and is thought dying. Yesterday
he sent his resignation and mace to the House, which is
accordingly adjourned to next Monday to consider of a suc-
cessor, by which time, I suppose, the vacant employments
will be filled up. No fewer than four earls have asked to be
Master of the Horse to the Queen, Essex, Carlisle, Walde-
grave, and Powis; a proof that things are not thought
desperate. That the opposition are so, and intend to make
the nation so, is but too evident. Their speeches are out-
LETTER 1290.— * Sir William de 2 Sir John Gust. Walpole. — He
Grey. died on Jan. 24, 1770.
WALVOLE. VII
354 To Sir Horace Mann [1770
rageous, and it is not their fault that some of them have not
been sent to the Tower. In short, the option seems to lie
between the greatest violences, or a change of administra-
tion and a dissolution of Parliament, the latter of which,
I think, would not let in all other evils upon us.
Friday, 19th.
I had not time yesterday to finish my letter. The court
has recovered from its consternation and is taking measures
of defence. Another great thorn is drawn out of its side,
Sir Fletcher Norton, who vomited fire and flame on Yorke's
promotion, having consented to be Speaker of the House of
Commons. I do not yet hear whether the opposition will
set up a candidate for the chair against him. Nothing can
exceed the badness of his character even in this bad age ;
yet I think he can do less hurt in the Speaker's chair than
anywhere else. He has a roughness and insolence, too,
which will not suffer the licentious speeches of these last
days, and which the poor creature his predecessor did not
dare to reprimand. As sedition is the word, perhaps it is
not unlucky that some capital rogues should be opposed to
others ; they know each other's weak parts.
A country is undone before people distinguish between
affected and real virtue, and Cato is dead before anybody
minds him. I could write a volume of reflections or com-
parisons, but to what purpose? Writings impel, but can
restrain nobody. Every Clodius of the hour takes the name
of Cato to himself, and bestows his own name on his enemy.
Truth surmounts but an hundred years afterwards ; is then
entombed in history, and appears as flat as, or less interesting
than, the lies with which it is surrounded and has been
overwhelmed. Everybody talks of the constitution, but all
sides forget that the constitution is extremely well, and
would do very well, if they would but let it alone. Indeed
mo] To Sir Horace Mann 355
it must be a strong constitution, considering how long it
has been quacked and doctored. If it had a fever, it was
a slow one. Its present physicians imitate the faculty so
servilely, that they seem to think the wisest step is to
convert the slow fever into a high one; then, you know,
the patient is easily cured — or killed.
Considering how much I have seen, perhaps I ought not
to be so easily alarmed, but a bystander is more apt to be
serious than those who are heated and engaged in the game.
I have the weakness of loving national glory ; I exulted in
the figure we made in the last war ; but as I am connected
with neither court nor opposition, I enjoy the triumphs of
neither, which are made at the expense of the whole. Their
squabbles divert us from attention to greater interests, and
their views are confined to the small circle of themselves
and friends. If the quarrel becomes very serious, one
knows, whichever side prevails, the crown in the long run
must predominate ; and what matters it which party or
faction shall then be uppermost?
I will enliven this grave letter with a l>on mot, that, like
a bawdy epilogue to a tragedy, shall send you away smiling.
Lord Chatham, lying on his couch before the Parliament
met, declared he would at all events go to the House of
Lords, and if he could not stand, would speak, he said, in
that horizontal posture. Mrs. Ann Pitt, his sister, not his
friend, asked Lord Chesterfield if he designed to go and
hear her brother speak in a horizontal posture ? ' No ! Madam,'
replied he, ' but I would if I was not seventy-five and deaf,
for the most agreeable things I ever heard in my life were
from persons in a horizontal posture.' What gaiety and spirit
at seventy-five, and how prettily expressed ! It contains the
cheerfulness of the wars of the Fronde in France. I cannot
say our commotions are often so enlivened. Adieu !
A a 2
356 To Sir Horace Mann [1770
1291. To SIR HOEACE MANN.
Arlington Street, Monday, Jan. 22, 1770.
WHAT a strange event ! Though my letters tread on
each other's heels, they can scarce keep up with the rapid
motion of the times. Mr. Yorke is dead! — yes, the new
Chancellor ! He kissed the King's hand for the Great Seal
on Wednesday night, and expired between five and six on
Saturday evening. It was Semele perishing by the light-
nings she had longed for. When you have recovered your
surprise, you will want to know the circumstances. I believe
the following are nearly the truth. To be the second
Chancellor in succession in his own house had been the
great object of Mr. Yorke's life ; and his family were not
less eager for it. This point had occasioned much un-
certainty in their conduct. In general, they were attached
to Lord Rockingliam, but being decent, and naturally legal,
they had given in to none of the violences of their party,
particularly on the petitions, all the brothers absenting
themselves on the first day of the session. When the Great
Seal, on the intended dismission of Lord Camden, was
offered to Mr. Yorke, his connections, and dread of abuse,
weighed so strongly against his ambition, that he deter-
mined to refuse it. Some say that his brother Lord Hard-
wicke advised ; others, that he dissuaded the acceptance.
Certain it is, that he had given a positive refusal both to
the King and the Duke of Grafton, and that the Earl had
notified it to Lord Kockingham. Within two hours after,
the King prevailed on Yorke to accept.
The conflict occasioned in. his mind by these struggles,
working on a complexion that boiled over with blood,
threw him into a high fever on Wednesday night, and
a vomiting ensuing on Thursday morning, he burst a blood-
I7?o] To Sir Horace Mann 357
vessel, and no art could save him. The Cerberus of
Billingsgate had opened all its throats, but must shut them,
for the poor man had accepted handsomely, without making
a single condition for himself ; I do not reckon the peerage1 ;
as a Chancellor must have it, or is a mute at the head of the
House of Lords. The blow is heavy on the administra-
tion. The Chief Justice Wilmot, it is thought, will be
prevailed upon to accept the Seals, but at present they
must be put into commission, for the Chancery cannot
stand still.
You are a sort of man whom virtue can comfort under ill
success, and therefore I will tell you what will charm you.
The King offered the Mastership of the Ordnance, on Lord
Granby's resignation, to Mr. Conway, who is only Lieutenant-
General of it. He said he had lived in friendship with
Lord Granby, and would not profit of his spoils ; but, as he
thought he could do some essential service in the office,
where there are many abuses, if his Majesty would be
pleased to let him continue as he is, he would do the
business of the office without accepting the salary. The
King replied, ' You are a phenomenon ! I can satisfy
nobody else, and you will not take even what is offered to
you.' I believe his Majesty would not find the same
difficulty with many Patriots. As extremes meet, even Sir
Fletcher Norton acts moderation. He was destined for
Speaker of the House of Commons. On Yorke's death, it
was expected that he would again push to be Chancellor.
No such thing : he says he will not avail himself of the
distresses of Government ; but, having consented to be
Speaker, will remain so ; and is to be installed to-day, the
opposition not being able to find a concurrent. There ! —
there is Cassius as self-denying as Brutus I Lord Walde-
LKTTKB 1291. — 1 The patent for den was awaiting hia signature in
Mr. Yorke's creation as Baron Mor- the room in which he died.
358 To Sir Horace Mann [1770
grave2 is Master of the Horse to the Queen: the other
employments are not yet filled ; but, as I begin my letter
to-day, and it is not to set out till to-morrow, I may have
half a volume more to write, if the times keep up the same
tone of vivacity.
Tuesday.
Sir Fletcher Norton is Speaker. Two or three of the
opposition, only to mark their disgust to him, proposed the
younger Thomas Townshend, one as little qualified for the
office as you are, and whose consent they had not asked.
He disavowed them, and Sir Fletcher was chosen by 237 to
121 : exactly the same majority as on the first day ; so that
the court maintains its strength, notwithstanding so many
unfavourable accidents. The same day, Lord Kockingham
wretchedly, and Lord Chatham in his old brilliant style,
moved to inquire into the state of the nation, which was
not opposed, and is to be discussed on Thursday.
In the meantime, resignations revive. Dunning, the
Solicitor-General ; Hussey, Attorney- General to the Queen ;
James Grenville, Vice-Treasurer to the Queen, and two
Lords of the Admiralty, have given up their places ; and,
what is worse, no Chancellor is to be found. Lord Chatham,
who, four years and a half ago, was turned out of Lord
Kockingham's house, has been to wait on the latter, and
they are the best friends in the world, as far as common
hostility can make them ; but the Marquis is firm in
insisting on the Treasury, which the Grenvilles will not
waive. It is a most distracted scene ! People cry, where
will it end ? I say, where will it begin ? I know where it
will end ; in the destruction of this free constitution.
Should anything happen, I shall write to you with more
circumspection. I condemn both sides, or rather, all sides.
I have not a connection with anything called minister ;
2 John, third Earl of Waldegrave. Walpole.
mo] To Lord Hailes 359
but as the well-being of the House of Commons depends on
this administration, I must wish their success. If the
House of Commons is blasted by authority, what is left?
Must we pass through a mob Parliament to confusion, and
thence to absolute power ? I tremble. Adieu !
P.S. If the Parliament is dissolved, Lord Chatham and
Lord Eockingham may separately flatter themselves, but
the next Parliament will be Wilkes's.
1292. To LOED HAILES.
SIR, Arlington Street, Jan. 23, 1770.
I have not had time to return you the enclosed sooner,
but I give you my honour that it has neither been out
of my hands, nor been copied. It is a most curious piece,
but though affecting art, has very little ; so ill is the satire
disguised. I agree with you in thinking it ought not to
be published yet, as nothing is more cruel than divulging
private letters which may wound the living. I have even
the same tenderness for the children of persons concerned ;
but I laugh at delicacy for grandchildren, who can be
affected by nothing but their pride — and let that be hurt
if it will. It always finds means of consoling itself.
The rapid history of Mr. Yorke is very touching. For
himself, he has escaped a torrent of obloquy, which this
unfeeling and prejudiced moment was ready to pour on
him. Many of his survivors may, perhaps, live to envy
him ! Madness and wickedness gain ground — and you may
be sure borrow the chariot of virtue. Lord Chatham, not
content with endeavouring to confound and overturn the
legislature, has thrown out, that one member more ought to le
added to each county ; so little do ambition and indigence
scruple to strike at fundamentals ! Sir George Savile and
360 To Lord Hailes [1770
Edmund Burke, as if envying the infamous intoxication of
Wilkes, have attacked the House of Commons itself, in
the most gross and vilifying language. In short, the plot
thickens fast, and Catilines start up in every street. I
cannot say Ciceros and Catos arise to face them. The
phlegmatic and pedants in history quote King William's
and SacheverePs times to show the present is not more
serious ; but if I have any reading, I must remember that
the repetition of bad scenes brings about a catastrophe at
last! It is small consolation to living sufferers to reflect
that history will rejudge great criminals ; nor is that sure.
How seldom is history fairly stated ! When do all men
concur in the same sentence ? Do the guilty dead regard
its judicature, or they who prefer the convict to the judge ?
Besides, an ape of Sylla will call himself Brutus, and the
foolish people assist a proscription before they suspect that
their hero is an incendiary. Indeed, Sir, we are, as Milton
says —
On evil days fallen and evil tongues !
I shall be happy to find I have had too gloomy apprehen-
sions. A man, neither connected with ministers nor
opponents, may speculate too subtly. If all this is but
a scramble for power, let it fall to whose lot it will ! It
is the attack on the constitution that strikes me. I have
nothing to say for the corruption of senators ; but if the
senate itself is declared vile by authority, that is by a
dissolution, will a re-election restore its honour? Will
Wilkes, and Parson Home J, and Junius (for they will name
the members) give us more virtuous representations than
ministers have done? Reformation must be a blessed
work in the hands of such reformers ! Moderation, and
LKTTIB 1292. — * Eev. John Home He was at this time a warm sup-
(1736-1812),affcerwards Horne-Tooke. porter pf Wilkes, but quarrelled with
He was the founder of the 'Society him in 1771.
for supporting the Bill of Eights.'
1770] To Sir Horace Mann 361
attachment to the constitution, are my principles. Is the
latter to be risked rather than endure any single evil?
I would oppose, that is restrain, by opposition check,
each branch of the legislature that predominates in its
turn ; — but if I detest Laud, it does not make me love
Hugh Peters.
Adieu, Sir ! I must not tire you with my reflections ;
but as I am flattered with thinking I have the sanction
of the same sentiments in you, it is natural to indulge even
unpleasing meditations when one meets with sympathy,
and it is as natural for those who love their country to
lament its danger. I am, Sir, &c.
1293. To SIB HORACE MANN.
Arlington Street, Jan. 30, 1770.
I DO not know how the year will end, but, to be sure,
it begins with as many events as ever happened to any
one of its predecessors. The Duke of Grafton has resigned :
in a very extraordinary moment indeed ; in the midst of
his own measures, in the midst of a session, and un-
defeated. It is true, his last victory was far from being as
complete as the former ; and hence, as Horatio says *, have
the talkers of this populous city taken occasion to impute this
sudden retreat to as sudden a panic. You must know,
that last Friday, upon a question on that endless topic
the Middlesex election, the court had a majority, at past
three in the morning, of only four and forty. The expul-
sion of the Chancellor2, the resignation of Lord Granby,
and of so many others, and much maladroitness in stating
the question on the court side, easily accounted for that
diminution in the numbers ; and yet, though I believe that
that defalcation determined this step, I know it was not
LETTER 1293, — l In The Fair Penitent. Walpole. * Lord Camden.
362 To Sir Horace Mann [1770
a new thought. Whenever the current did not run smooth,
his Grace's first thought has been to resign. When Mr.
Yorke refused to accept, the fit returned violently: when
he did accept, the wind changed ; and I believe I gave
you an obscure hint of the extreme importance of that
acceptance. Mr. Yorke's precipitate death unhinged all
again ; the impossibility of finding another Chancellor fixed
the wind in the resigning corner, and the slender majority
overset the vessel quite. In short, it is over. A very bad
temper, no conduct, and obstinacy always ill-placed, have
put an end to his Grace's administration.
What will follow is impossible to say. In the meantime
Lord North is First Minister. He is much more able, more
active, more assiduous, more resolute, and more fitted to
deal with mankind. But whether the apparent, nay, glaring
timidity of the Duke may not have spread too general an
alarm, is more than probable ; and there is but the interval
of to-day to take any measures, as the question of Friday 3
must be reported to the House to-morrow ; whence, at least,
the lookers-out may absent themselves till the trump is
turned up. The fear of a dissolution of Parliament may
keep a large number together, and the fluctuation of prob-
ability between Lord North, Lord Chatham, and Lord
Rockingham, may occasion a confusion of which the Govern-
ment may profit. The King, in the meantime, is much
to be pitied ; abandoned where he had most confidence,
and attacked on every other side. I write to-day, because
the post goes out, and I choose to give you the earliest
intelligence of such a material event ; but the letter I shall
certainly send you on Friday will tread upon a little firmer
ground.
8 Apparently a slip for Thursday, land and the usage of Parliament,
Jan. 26, on •which day Dowdeswell which is part thereof.' (Memoirs of
moved ' that the House of Commons George III, ed. 1894, voL iv. p. 42.)
is bound to follow the laws of the
I77o] To Sir Horace Mann 363
I have received an odd indirect overture myself, not from
administration nor opposition, but from France. M. de
Choiseul has a great desire that I should be Ambassador
at that court. As no man upon earth is less a Frenchman,
as you know, than I am, I did not at all taste the proposal,
nay, not his making it. I sent him word in plain terms
that he could not have desired a person that would suit
him less ; that whatever private connections or friendships
I have in France, however grateful I may be for the
kindness I have met with there, yet, the moment I should
be Ambassador, he would find me more haughty and
inflexible than all the English put together ; and that
though I wish for peace between the two countries, I should
be much more likely to embroil them than preserve union,
for that nothing upon earth could make me depart from
the smallest punctilio, in which the honour of my nation
should be concerned. I do not think he will desire me
to be sent thither.
As this letter is but a prologue to the ensuing scenes,
you will excuse my making it short. You may depend
on my frequency till things are settled into some system.
Adieu !
1294. To SIB HOEACE MANN.
Arlington Street, Friday, Feb. 2, 1770.
WEDNESDAY1, the very critical day, is over, and the
administration stands. The opposition flattered themselves
with victory, and the warmest friends of the court expected
little better than a drawn battle, yet the majority for the
latter was forty. Few enough in conscience for triumph,
LETTER 1294. — I Jan. 31, 1770, on a person eligible by law cannot by
which day Lord North appeared for expulsion be rendered incapable of
the first time in the Honse of Com- being re-chosen, unless by Act of
mons as Prime Minister. The House Parliament.' The ministry was vic-
went into Committee on the state of torious by 226 to 186.
the nation. The question was ' that
364 To Sir Horace Mann [l770
but sufficient to make a stand with. Lord North pleased
all that could bring themselves to be pleased : he not only
spoke with firmness and dignity, but with good-humour ;
and fairly got the better of Colonel Barre, who attacked
him with rudeness and brutality. Lord North has very
good parts, quickness, great knowledge, and, what is as
much wanted, activity. The impracticability of the Duke
of Grafton's temper had contributed more to the present
crisis than all the labours of all the factions. His friends
were more discontented with him than even his enemies
were. It was impossible to choose a more distressful
moment than he selected for quitting; and had the scale
turned on Wednesday, I do not know where we should
have been. The House of Commons contradicting itself,
a reversal of the Middlesex election, a dissolution of Parlia-
ment, or the King driven to refuse it in the face of a
majority! I protest I think some fatal event must have
happened. Let the constitution but be saved, the factions
may squabble as they please. They are engaged at this
moment at the House of Lords, but that is a very bloodless
scene: my Lord Chatham will make as little impression
there as in his expeditions to the coast of France.
The people are perfectly quiet, and seem to have dele-
gated all their anger to their representatives — a proof that
their representatives had instructed their constituents to be angry.
Wilkes is never mentioned, but as his name occurs in the
debates on the Middlesex election. Yet am I far from
thinking this administration solidly seated. Any violence,
or new provocation, may dislodge it at once. When they
could reduce a majority of an hundred and sixteen to forty,
in three weeks, their hold seems to be very slippery.
In the meantime, what a figure do we make in Europe !
Who can connect with us ? Nobody will. Nay, who can
treat with us? Is every secret of every court to pass
1770] To Sir Horace Mann 365
through the hands of every cabal in England ? This goes
to my heart, who, you know, wish to dictate to all the
world, and to sit, a private citizen, in the Capitol, with
more haughtiness than an Asiatic monarch. All public
ambition is lost in personal. It would soothe my pride
a thousand times more to be great by my country than in
it. It would flatter me more to walk on foot to Paris, and
be reverenced as an Englishman, than go thither Ambas-
sador, with the Garter. This might have been ! but it [is]
past; and what signifies all the rest? I was born with
Eoman insolence, and live in faece Bomuli !
The vivacity of this last month has so multiplied my
letters, that their number must excuse the shortness of
them.
If the present system settles into any stability, I shall
relapse into my monthly family-duty. Should fresh changes
happen, you are sure of being advertised. That strange
event, Mr. Yorke's death, is already history, that is, for-
gotten. We give few things time to grow stale.
Where is the Eussian fleet? The ships drop in, one
by one, like schoolboys after their holidays: and none of
them, I doubt, perfect in their lesson.
Our schoolboys, at least those just come from school, are
much more expeditious.
The gaming at Almack's, which has taken the pas of
White's, is worthy the decline of our Empire, or Common-
wealth, which you please. The young men of the age lose
five, ten, fifteen thousand pounds in an evening there:
Lord Stavordale 2, not one-and-twenty, lost eleven thousand
there, last Tuesday, but recovered it by one great hand at
hazard: he swore a great oath, — 'Now, if I had been
playing deep, I might have won millions.' His cousin,
2 Eldest son of Stephen Fox, first succeeded his father in 1776, and
Earl of Hchester. Walpole. — He died in 1802.
366 To Sir Horace Mann [1770
Charles Fox, shines equally there and in the House of
Commons. He was twenty-one yesterday se'nnight ; and
is already one of our best speakers. Yesterday he was
made a Lord of the Admiralty. We are not a great age,
but surely we are tending to some great revolution.
Adieu !
1295. To SIB HOEACE MANN.
Arlington Street, Feb. 27, 1770.
IT is very lucky, seeing how much of the tiger enters
into the human composition, that there should be a good
dose of the monkey too. If ^Esop had not lived so many
centuries before the introduction of masquerades and operas,
he would certainly have anticipated my observation, and
worked it up into a capital fable. As we still trade upon
the stock of the ancients, we seldom deal in any other
manufacture ; and, though nature, after new combinations,
lets forth new characteristics, it is very rarely that they are
added to the old fund ; else how could so striking a remark
have escaped being made, as mine, on the joint ingredients
of tiger and monkey ? In France the latter predominates, in
England the former ; but, like Orozmades and Arimanius J,
they get the better by turns. The bankruptcy in France,
and the rigours of the new Comptroller-General8, are half
forgotten, in the expectation of a new opera at the new
theatre. Our civil war has been lulled asleep by a sub-
scription masquerade, for which the House of Commons
literally adjourned yesterday. Instead of Fairfaxes and
Cromwells, we have had a crowd of Henrys the Eighth,
Wolseys, Vandykes, and Harlequins ; and because Wilkes
LETTER 1295. — l So in MS. for and grants by the half, but striking
Oromasdes and Arimanes. at the interest on the debt ; and was
2 The Abb6 Joseph Marie Terray on the point of blowing up the credit
(1 71 6-1778), who' immediately set out of France entirely, especially with
with a violence and rigour beyond foreign countries.' (Memoirs of George
example, not only lessening pensions ///, ed. 1894, vol. iv. p. 16.)
mo] To Sir Horace Mann 367
was not mask enough, we had a man dressed like him, with
a visor, in imitation of his squint, and a cap of liberty on
a pole. In short, sixteen or eighteen young lords have
given the town a masquerade ; and politics, for the last
fortnight, were forced to give way to habit-makers. The
ball was last night at Soho ; and, if possible, was more
magnificent than the King of Denmark's. The bishops
opposed : he of London 3 formally remonstrated to the King,
who did not approve it, but could not help him. The
consequence was, that four divine vessels belonging to the
holy fathers, alias their wives, were at this masquerade.
Monkey again ! A fair widow 4, who once bore my whole
name, and now bears half of it, was there, with one of those
whom the newspapers call great personages — he dressed like
Edward the Fourth, she like Elizabeth Woodville, in grey
and pearls, with a black veil. Methinks it was not very
difficult to find out the meaning of those masks.
As one of my ancient passions, formerly, was masquerades,
I had a large trunk of dresses by me. I dressed out
a thousand young Conways 5 and Cholmondeleys 6, and went
with more pleasure to see them pleased than when I formerly
delighted in that diversion myself. It has cost me a great
headache, and I shall probably never go to another. A
symptom appeared of the change that has happened in the
people.
The mob was beyond all belief: they held flambeaux to
the windows of every coach, and demanded to have the
masks pulled off and put on at their pleasure, but with
extreme good humour and civility. I was with my Lady
Hertford and two of her daughters, in their coach : the mob
8 Richard Terrick. 6 Sons of Francis, Earl of Hertford,
4 Maria Walpole, Countess Dowa- Mr. Walpole's cousin-german. Wal-
ger of Waldegrave ; secondly married pole.
to William Henry, Duke of Glou- « Mr. Walpole's nephews. Wal-
cester. Edward IV married the pole.
widow Lady Gray. Walpole
368 To Sir Horace Mann [1770
took me for Lord Hertford, and huzzaed and blessed me!
One fellow cried out, ' Are you for Wilkes ? ' another said,
'Damn you, you fool, what has Wilkes to do with a
masquerade ? '
In good truth, that stock is fallen very low. The court
has recovered a majority of seventy-five in the House of
Commons ; and the party has succeeded so ill in the Lords,
that my Lord Chatham has betaken himself to the gout,
and appears no more. What Wilkes may do at his enlarge-
ment in April, I don't know, but his star is certainly much
dimmed. The distress of France, the injustice they have
been reduced to commit on public credit, immense bank-
ruptcies, and great bankers hanging and drowning them-
selves, are comfortable objects in our prospect ; for one
tiger is charmed if another tiger loses his tail.
There was a stroke of the monkey last night that will
sound ill in the ears of your neighbour the Pope. The
heir-apparent 7 of the house of Norfolk, a drunken old mad
fellow, was, though a Catholic, dressed like a Cardinal:
I hope he was scandalized at the wives of our bishops.
So you agree with me, and don't think that the crusado
from Kussia will recover the Holy Land ! It is a pity ; for,
if the Turks keep it a little longer, I doubt it will be the
Holy Land no longer. When Kome totters, poor Jerusalem !
As to your Count Orloff s denying the murder of the late
Czar, it is no more than every felon does at the Old Bailey.
If I could write like Shakespeare, I would make Peter's
ghost perch on the dome of Sancta Sophia, and, when the
Russian fleet comes in sight, roar, with a voice of thunder
that should reach to Petersburgh,
Let me sit heavy on thy soul to-morrow!
We have had two or three simpletons return from Russia,
7 Charles Howard ; afterwards Duke of Norfolk. Walpole.
mo] To Sir Hwace Mann 369
charmed with the murderess, believing her innocent, because
she spoke graciously to them in the Drawing-room. I don't
know what the present Grand Signior's name is, Osman, or
Mustapha, or what, but I am extremely on his side against
Catharine of Zerbst; and I never intend to ask him for
a farthing, nor write panegyrics on him for pay, like
Voltaire and Diderot ; so you need not say a word to him
of my good wishes. Benedict XIV deserved my friendship,
but being a sound Protestant, one would not, you know,
make all Turk and pagan and infidel princes too familiar.
Adieu !
1296. To SIB HORACE MANN.
Arlington Street, March 15, 1770.
THE troubles that seemed to have a little subsided, or
that were, at least, repelled by the vigorous majorities in
Parliament, have again broken out, and (like flames blown
backward) with redoubled violence. As a prelude to what
was to follow, rather as the word of battle, Lord Chatham
some days ago declared to the Lords, that there is a secret
influence (meaning the Princess) more mighty than Majesty
itself, and which had betrayed or clogged every succeeding
administration. His own had been sacrificed by it. In
consequence of this denunciation, papers, to which the
North Britons were milk and honey, have been published
in terms too gross to repeat The Whisperer and The Parlia-
mentary Spy are their titles. Every blank wall at this end
of the town is scribbled with the words, ' Impeach the King's
Mother ' ; and, in truth, I think her person in danger.
But the manifesto on which all seems to turn, is the
Eemonstrance * from the City. You will have seen it in the
public papers, and certainly never saw a bolder declaration
both against King and Parliament. Sixteen aldermen have
LETTEB 1296.— * See Ann. Reg. 1770, p. 199.
WALPOLE. VII B b
370 To Sir Horace Mann [1770
protested against it, but could not stop it. The King, after
some delay, received it yesterday on his throne. It was
brought by the Lord Mayor and Sheriffs, accompanied by
an immense multitude, decently however, except in hissing
as they passed Carlton House *. A few days ago, when the
sheriffs went to demand the acceptance of it, both Town-
shend and Sawbridge, it is said, behaved with provoking
disrespect. The King read his answer with great dignity
and calmness, and it was indeed drawn with extreme temper
and firmness. Had as prudent an answer been given to the
petitions, instead of mocking the people s with that nonsense
on the horned cattle, much ill-humour had been prevented.
The crisis is now tremendous. Should the House of
Commons, or both Houses, fall on the Remonstrance as it
in a manner dares them to do, it is much to be apprehended
that not only the Lord Mayor and sheriffs will uphold their
act, but that many lords and members will avow them, and
demand to be included in the same sentence. The Tower,
crammed with such proud criminals, will be a formidable
scene indeed. The petitioning counties will certainly turn
remonstrants. An association among them is threatened,
and a general refusal by the party of paying the land-tax.
In short, rebellion is in prospect, and in everybody's mouth.
I, you know, have long foretold, that if some lenient
measures were not applied, the confusion would grow too
mighty to be checked.
It is not yet, I hope, too late for wisdom and temper to
step in. I sigh when I hear any other language. The
English may be soothed — I never read that they were to be
frightened. The experience of ten years has shown that
harshness, and standing on the letter of defence, has but
added to the ill-humour of the times. I have a great opinion
2 The residence of the Princess Dowager in Pall Mall. Walpole.
5 In the King's Speech. Walpole.
1770] To Sir Horace Mann 371
of Lord North's prudence, and by the answer to the Kemon-
strance, I conceive that he sees the true and only means of
quieting those distempers, it bewig much easier for a King of
England to disarm the minds of his subjects than their hands.
This is my creed, and all our history supports it.
Friday, 16th.
I was interrupted yesterday, since when the die is cast.
Sir Thomas Clavering4 moved to address the King to lay
the Eemonstrance and his Answer before the House. The
Lord Mayor, the two sheriffs, and Alderman Trecothick5
avowed the hand they had had in that outrageous paper.
Fortunately, no more members took the same part, and
some of the best condemned it. The House, you may
imagine, was full of resentment, and at eleven at night the
Address was carried by 271 to 108 : a vast majority in the
present circumstances, and composed, as you may guess, of
many who abandoned the opposition. The great point is
still in suspense — what to do with the offenders. The
wisest, because the most temperate, method that I have
heard suggested is, to address the King to order a prosecution
by the Attorney-General. Two others that have been men-
tioned are big with every mischief — the Tower, or expulsion.
Think of the three first magistrates of the City in prison, or
of a new election for London ! I pray for temper, but what
can one expect when such provocation is given? I will
write to you again next week, and I wish to send you better
news. I forget whether it was King David or King
Solomon said it, but I often think of the wisdom of that
expression, 'A soft word turneth away anger.'
Pray be upon your guard against the person who told you
4 Sir Thomas Clavering, eighth B Barlow Trecothick, M.P. for the
Baronet, of Axwell Park, Durham ; City of London.
M.P. for Durham county ; d. 1794.
B b 2
372 To Sir Horace Mann [1770
that Johnson was the author of the False Alarm. I believe
he is ; but the person 6 who told you so is a most worthless
and dangerous fellow, and capable of any mischief. Adieu !
1297. To SIR HORACE MANN.
Arlington Street, March 23, 1770.
OUR storms rather loiter than disperse ; but they have
deceived me so often, that if I thought them blown over,
I should be cautious of saying so. Lord North's temper
and prudence has prevailed over much rash counsel; and
will, I hope, at last, defeat the madness of both sides.
There has not been much heat in the House of Commons.
The Eockingham faction has left Lord Chatham's aground,
and would not defend the indecency of the Eemonstrance.
This alarmed my Lord Mayor, and, though he affected to
keep up his spirit, it sunk visibly. The House, you may be
sure, resented the insult offered to them, and the majorities
have been very great ; yet has there been no personal
punishment or censure, no dubbing of martyrs. The
country gentlemen have even declared that they will
support the court in no violence. This is very happy, at
a time when the first overt act of violence on either side
may entail long bloodshed upon us. The disavowal has
given Lord Chatham a real or political fit of the gout ; and
he neither appeared yesterday in the House of Lords, when
an address to the King against the Remonstrance was voted,
nor at a sumptuous dinner and ball, given to the opposition
by the Lord Mayor. They passed in solemn procession,
escorted by the Liverymen of London on horseback, from
the Thatched House Tavern, near St. James's, to the Mansion
House, amidst thousands of people. At night, a small
drunken mob, consisting, I believe, chiefly of glaziers and
• Smollett. Walpole.
mo] To Sir Horace Mann 373
tallow-chandlers, obliged some houses at Charing Cross to
put out some lights, and broke some windows, but dispersed
of themselves in a quarter of an hour. These follies, how-
ever, exasperate ; and both sides, I fear, grow too angry not
to be glad to be enraged at any trifle : the chiefs of both
not considering that, like other projectors, the first inventors
of mischief never reap the profit. Laud, Strafi°ord, Hampden,
Pym, all perished before their manufactures were crowned
with success. Cromwell and Clarendon, who came into
their shops, got all the business.
Our weather is as perverse as the rest of the season. We
have had a hard frost above this fortnight, which they
say has killed all the peas and beans ; but so they say
every year, and of the fruit too. I suppose, if so much was
not destroyed, we should be devoured by peas, beans, and
apricots.
Lord Beauchamp has desired I would trouble you with
a commission ; it is to send him about six dozen of wine of
Aleatico, and four dozen of the white Verdea. I knew you
would undertake it with pleasure ; you must draw upon me
for the money, and I will pay your brother.
You know I have always some favourite, some successor
of Patapan *. The present is a tanned black spaniel, called
Eosette. She saved my life last Saturday night, so I am
sure you will love her too* I was undressing for bed. She
barked and was so restless that there was no quieting her.
I fancied there was somebody under the bed, but there was
not. As she looked at the chimney, which roared much,
I thought it was the wind, yet wondered, as she had heard
it so often. At last, not being able to quiet her, I looked to
see what she barked at, and perceived sparks of fire falling
from the chimney, and on searching farther perceived it in
flames. It had not gone far, and we easily extinguished it.
LETTER 1297. — 1 A favourite dog Mr. Walpole brought from Home. Walpole.
374 To George Augustus Selwyn [1770
I wish I had as much power over the nation's chimney.
Adieu !
1298. To GEOEGE MONTAGU.
Arlington Street, March 31, 1770.
I SHALL be extremely obliged to you for Alderman Back-
well. A scarce print is a real present to me, who have
a table of weights and measures in my head very different
from that of the rich and covetous.
I am glad your journey was prosperous. The weather
here has continued very sharp, but it has been making
preparations for April to-day, and watered the streets with
some soft showers. They will send me to Strawberry
to-morrow, where I hope to find the lilacs beginning to
put forth their little noses. Mr. Chute mends very slowly,
but you know he has as much patience as gout.
I depend upon seeing you whenever you return this way-
ward. You will find the round chamber far advanced,
though not finished, for my undertakings do not stride
with the impetuosity of my youth. This single room has
been half as long in completing as all the rest of the castle.
My compliments to Mr. John, whom I hope to see at the
same time. Yours ever,
H. W.
1299. To GEOEGE AUGUSTUS SELWYN.
DEAR GEORGE, Thursday morning.
After you was gone last night, I heard it whispered about
the room that a bad representation had been made at the
Queen's House against the unhappy young man J. Do not
LETTER 1299. — Not in C. ; reprinted demned to death on April 12, 1770,
from George Selwyn and his Contem- for the murder of a watchman. For
poraries, ed. 1882, vol. ii. p. 392. the reasons which induced Walpole
1 Matthew Kennedy, who was con- and Selwyn to interest themselves in
mo] To Sir Horace Mann 375
mention this, as it might do hurt ; but try privately, with-
out talking of it, if you cannot get some of the ladies to
mention the cruelty of the case; or what do you think
of a hint by the German women a if you can get at them ?
Yours, &c.,
H. W.
1300. To SIR HOEACE MANN.
Arlington Street, Thursday, April 19, 1770.
THE day so much apprehended of Wilkes's enlargement
is passed without mischief. He was released late the night
before last, and set out directly for the country. Last
night several shops and private houses were illuminated,
from affection, or fear of their windows, but few of any
distinction, except the Duke of Portland's. Falling amidst
the drunkenness of Easter week, riots were the more to be
expected ; yet none happened. Great pains had been taken
to station constables, and the Light Horse were drawn
nearer to town, in case of emergency. The Lord Mayor
had enjoined tranquillity — as Mayor, As Beckford, his
own house in Soho Square was embroidered with 'Liberty,'
in white letters three feet high. Luckily, the evening was
very wet, and not a mouse stirred.
However, this delivery may give date to a fresh era.
Wilkes has printed manifestoes against the House of
Commons, designs to be sworn in alderman, and, they say,
to demand his seat in Parliament. An approaching event
will favour his designs. Lord Sandys has been overturned,
and fractured his skull. The succession of his son 1 to the
title vacates the seat of the latter for Westminster, and
opens a new scene of rioting. Wilkes will not stand
the affair see Memoirs of George III, dorn.
ed. 1894, voL iv. pp. 110-1. LETTER 1300. — l Edwin Sandys
2 The Queen's German attendants, (1726-1797), second Baron Sandys.
Mesdames Sohwellenberg and Hage-
376 To Sir Horace Mann [1770
himself, adhering to his pretensions for Middlesex, but may
name whom he pleases. The court, I should think, would
not oppose his nominee ; and in that case there may be
the less tumult.
Well, we must see now what turn this man's destiny
will take: whether he will persist, and if he does, what
the event will be ; or whether he will not be abandoned
by degrees, and sink into obscurity. Except as a mere
tool of faction, he has lost all hold but with the lower part
of the people, while his own vanity and obstinacy makes
him most important in his own eyes, and may in reality
have made him an enthusiast. Monsieur de la Chalotais,
a man of real principles, does not triumph less. He has
driven his tyrant, the Due d'Aiguillon, to demand a trial,
and it is now going on before the King at Versailles ; an
unprecedented compliment, and evidence of the Duke's
favour. Yet he is fallen into a jaundice with vexation,
after receiving a noble rebuff from the oppressed. Duclos
was sent with the offer of 400,000 livres, of erecting his
estate into a marquisate, and of ensuring the place of
Procureur-General 2 to his son. La Chalotais was in bed
when Duclos drew his curtains ; he said immediately,
' Mon ami, j'espere que vous ne venez pas me proposer des
bassesses ? ' He refused everything ; said he would persist
in pursuing his oppressor for his own vindication till he
had not a sillon left, and hoped his children would have
spirit enough to go on with the suit. Such offers speak
the innocence of the sufferer ; and yet, having read the
procedure, I think there is not the least probability in
one of the charges, that of an attempt to have La Chalotais
poisoned. It is glorious, however, to find that even in
France the loftiest criminals cannot escape from the cry of
the public !
2 Procurenr-G6neral of the Parliament of Bretagne. Walpole.
1770] To Sir Horace Mann 377
One of the King's daughters 3 is gone into a convent of
Carmelites — the youngest. The King refused his consent
for three months. Had he had as much more sense as was
necessary, he should have abolished the order in terrorem,
for I take for granted this is a machine played off by Mother
Church to revive her credit.
Do you know that I am much scandalized at a paragraph
in your last, where you say the Czarina was reduced to
murder her husband by the option between that crime and
a great empire? Is it possible that you can have given
credit to the tales of her very accomplices? There was
not a shadow of probability that the Czar intended to put
her to death. His nature was most humane and beneficent,
and her antecedent and subsequent murders too glaring and
horrid proofs of her blackness, to leave one any doubt.
There is great reason to believe she poisoned the late
Czarina ; and none but such simpletons as we have sent to
Petersburgh can be imposed on by the gross denial of her
hand in the massacre of the Czar John.
My dear Sir, leave it to Voltaire and the venal learned to
apologize for that wretched woman. I am not dazzled with
her code of laws, nor her fleets in the Archipelago. La
Chalotais, in prison or exile, is venerable. Catharine will
be detestable, though she should be crowned in St. Sophia,
and act a farce of Christianity there. Pray deny her place
in so pure a heart as your own. The proper punishment
of mighty criminals is their knowing that they are, and
must be for ever despised by the good. Adieu !
1301. To SIR HOEACE MANN.
Strawberry Hill, May 6, 1770.
I DON'T know whether Wilkes is subdued by his imprison-
ment, or waits for the rising of Parliament, to take the
3 Madame Louise. Walpole,
378 To Sir Horace Mann [1770
field ; or whether his dignity of alderman has dulled him
into prudence, and the love of feasting ; but hitherto he has
done nothing but go to City banquets and sermons, and sit
at Guildhall as a sober magistrate. What an inversion of
the proverb, ' Si ex quovis Mercurio fit lignum ' ! What
do you Italians think of Harlequin Podesta ? In truth, his
party is crumbled away strangely. Lord Chatham has
talked on the Middlesex election till nobody will answer
him; and Mr. Burke (Lord Rockingham's governor) has
published a pamphlet1 that has sown the utmost discord
between that faction and the supporters of the Bill of
Rights. Mrs. Macaulay has written against it. In Par-
liament their numbers are shrunk to nothing, and the
session is ending very triumphantly for the court. But
there is another scene opened of a very different aspect.
You have seen the accounts from Boston. The tocsin
seems to be sounded to America. I have many visions
about that country, and fancy I see twenty empires and
republics forming upon vast scales over all that continent,
which is growing too mighty to be kept in subjection to
half a dozen exhausted nations in Europe. As the latter
sinks, and the others rise, they who live between the eras
will be a sort of Noahs, witnesses to the period of the Old
World and origin of the New. I entertain myself with the
idea of a future senate in Carolina and Virginia, where
their Patriots will harangue on the austere and incorruptible
virtue of the ancient English! will tell their auditors of
our disinterestedness and scorn of bribes and pensions, and
make us blush in our graves at their ridiculous panegyrics.
Who knows but even our Indian usurpations and villainies
may become topics of praise to American schoolboys ? As
I believe our virtues are extremely like those of our pre-
LETTER 1301. — * Thoughts on the Present Discontents.
mo] To Sir Horace Mann 379
decessors the Romans, so I am sure our luxury and
extravagance are too.
What do you think of a winter Eanelagh * erecting in
Oxford Road, at the expense of sixty thousand pounds?
The new bank, including the value of the ground, and of
the houses demolished to make room for it, will cost three
hundred thousand ; and erected, as my Lady Townley 3
says, by sober citizens too I I have touched before to you on
the incredible profusion of our young men of fashion. I
know a younger brother who literally gives a flower-woman
half a guinea every morning for a bunch of roses for the
nosegay in his button-hole. There has lately been an
auction of stuffed birds ; and, as natural history is in
fashion, there are physicians and others who paid forty
and fifty guineas for a single Chinese pheasant : you may
buy a live one for five. After this, it is not extraordinary
that pictures should be dear. We have at present three
exhibitions. One West4, who paints history in the taste
of Poussin, gets three hundred pounds for a piece not too
large to hang over a chimney. He has merit, but is hard
and heavy, and far unworthy of such prices. The rage
to see these exhibitions is so great, that sometimes one
cannot pass through the streets where they are. But it is
incredible what sums are raised by mere exhibitions of
anything; a new fashion, and to enter at which you pay
a shilling or half a crown. Another rage is for prints of
English portraits : I have been collecting them above thirty
years, and originally never gave for a mezzotinto above
one or two shillings. The lowest are now a crown ; most,
from half a guinea to a guinea. Lately, I assisted a clergy-
man 5 in compiling a catalogue of them ; since the publica-
2 The Pantheon. WalpoU. * Benjamin West (178&-1820).
3 In the comedy of the Provoked 5 Mr. Granger's work is entitled
Husband. Walpole. Biographical History. Walpole
380 To Sir Horace Mann [mo
tion, scarce heads in books, not worth threepence, will sell
for five guineas. Then we have Etruscan vases, made of
earthenware, in Staffordshire 6, from two to five guineas ;
and or moulu, never made here before, which succeeds so
well, that a tea-kettle, which the inventor offered for one
hundred guineas, sold by auction for one hundred and thirty.
In short, we are at the height of extravagance and improve-
ments, for we do improve rapidly in taste as well as in
the former. I cannot say so much for our genius. Poetry
is gone to bed, or into our prose ; we are like the Eomans
in that too. If we have the arts of the Antonines, — we
have the fustian also.
Well ! what becomes of your neighbours, the Pope and
Turk? is one Babylon to fall, and the other to moulder
away ? I begin to tremble for the poor Greeks ; they will
be sacrificed like the Catalans, and left to be impaled for
rebellion, as soon as that vain-glorious woman the Czarina
has glutted her lust of fame, and secured Azoph by a peace,
which I hear is all she insists on keeping. What strides
modern ambition takes ! We are the successors of Aurung-
zebe ; and a virago under the Pole sends a fleet into the
^Egean Sea to rouse the ghosts of Leonidas and Epami-
nondas, and burn the capital of the second Koman Empire !
Folks now scarce meddle with their next-door neighbours ;
as many English go to visit St. Peter's that never thought
of stepping into St. Paul's.
I shall let Lord Beauchamp know your readiness to
oblige him, probably to-morrow, as I go to town. The
spring is so backward here that I have little inducement
to stay ; not an entire leaf is out on any tree, and I have
heard a syren as much as a nightingale. Lord Fitzwilliam7,
6 At .Tosiah Wedgwood's works at Wentworth-Fitzwilliam (1748-1833),
1 Etrnria,' opened in 1769. second Earl Fitzwilliam.
7 William Fitzwilliam, afterwards
-!//yvy<" - /Left/ie / . J '.v/ ( >">•/ "/• (//'ema/rk'
/.>, .'S.'.
mo] To George Montagu 381
who, I suppose, is one of your latest acquaintance, is going
to marry Lady Charlotte Ponsonby, Lord Besborough's
second daughter, a pretty, sensible and very amiable girl.
I seldom tell you that sort of news, but when the parties
are very fresh in your memory. Adieu !
1302. To GEOBGE MONTAGU.
Strawberry Hill, May 6, 1770.
IF you are like me, you are fretting at the weather. We
have not a leaf yet large enough to make an apron for
a Miss Eve of two years old. Flowers and fruits, if they
come at all this year, must meet together as they do in
a Dutch picture. Our lords and ladies, however, couple as
if it were the real gioventu dell' anno. Lord Albemarle1,
you know, has disappointed all his brothers and my niece ;
and Lord Fitzwilliam is declared sposo to Lady Charlotte
Ponsonby. It is a pretty match, and makes Lord Besborough
as happy as possible.
Masquerades proceed in spite of Church and King. That
knave the Bishop of London persuaded that good soul the
Archbishop to remonstrate against them ; but happily the
age prefers silly follies to serious ones, and dominoes, comme
de raison, carry it against lawn sleeves.
There is a new institution that begins to make, and if
it proceeds, will make a considerable noise. It is a club
of both sexes to be erected at Almac's, on the model of that
of the men of White's. Mrs. Fitzroy, Lady Pembroke,
Mrs. Meynell, Lady Molyneux, Miss Pelham, and Miss Loyd,
are the foundresses. I am ashamed to say I am of so
young and fashionable a society ; but as they are people
I live with, I choose to be idle rather than morose. I can
LETTER 1302. — l Lord Albemarle daughter of Sir John Miller, fourth
married on April 20, 1770, Anne, Baronet, of Froyle, Hampshire.
382 To Sir Horace Mann [1770
go to a young supper, without forgetting how much sand
is run out of the hour-glass. Yet I shall never pass a trist
old age in turning the Psalms into Latin or English verse.
My plan is to pass away calmly ; cheerfully if I can ;
sometimes to amuse myself with the rising generation, but
to take care not to fatigue them, nor weary them with old
stories, which will not interest them, as their adventures
do not interest me. Age would indulge prejudices if it did
not sometimes polish itself against younger acquaintance ;
but it must be the work of folly if one hopes to contract
friendships with them, or desires it, or thinks one can
become the same follies, or expects that they should do
more than bear one for one's good humour. In short, they
are a pleasant medicine, that one should take care not to
grow fond of. Medicines hurt when habit has annihilated
their force: but you see I am in no danger. I intend
by degrees to decrease my opium, instead of augmenting
the dose. Good night ; you see I never let our long-lived
friendship drop, though you give it so few opportunities of
breathing.
Yours ever,
H. W.
1303. To SIR HORACE MANN.
Arlington Street, May 24, 1770.
NOT only the session is at an end, but I think the
Middlesex election too, which my Lord Chatham has heated
and heated so often over, that there is scarce a spark of fire
left. The City, indeed, carried a new Remonstrance1
yesterday, garnished with my Lord's own ingredients, but
much less hot than the former. The court, however, was
put into some confusion by my Lord Mayor, who, contrary
to all form and precedent, tacked a volunteer speech to the
LETTER 1303.— * See Ann. Reg. 1770, p. 201.
mo] To Sir Horace Mann 383
Eemonstrance. It was wondrous loyal and respectful, but
being an innovation, much discomposed the solemnity. It
is always usual to furnish a copy of what is to be said to
the King, that he may be prepared with his answer. In
this case, he was reduced to tuck up his train, jump from
the throne, and take sanctuary in his closet, or answer
extempore, which is no part of the royai trade ; or sit
silent and have nothing to reply. This last was the event,
and a position awkward enough in conscience. Wilkes did
not appear. When he misses such an opportunity of being
impertinent, you may imagine that his spirit of martyrdom
is pretty well burnt out. Thus has the winter, that set
out with such big black clouds, concluded with a prospect
of more serenity than we have seen for some time. Lord
Camden, Lord Granby, Lord Huntingdon, and the Duke
of Northumberland, have no great cause to be proud of the
finesse of their politics, and Lord Chatham has met with
nothing but miscarriages and derision. Disunion has ap-
peared between all the parts of the opposition, and unless
experience teaches them to unite more heartily during the
summer, or the court commits any extravagance, or Ireland
or America furnishes new troubles, you may compose
yourself to tranquillity in your representing ermine, and
take as good a nap as any monarch in Europe.
During this probable lethargy, I shall take my leave of
you for some time, without writing only to make excuses
for having nothing to say, which I have made for so many
summers, and which I cannot make even so well as I have
done. My pen grows very old, and is not so foolish as to
try to conceal it ; and if Gil Bias was to tell me that my
parts, even small as they were, decay, I should not resent it
like his archbishop, nor turn away the honest creature for
having perceived what I have found out myself for some
time. As my memory, however, is still good, you may
384 To George Montagu [1770
depend upon hearing from me again, when I have anything
worth telling you. One can always write a gazette, and
I am not too proud to descend to any office for your service.
Adieu !
1304. To GEOBGE MONTAGU.
Strawberry Hill, June 11, 1770.
MY company and I have wished for you very much to-
day. The Duchess of Portland, Mrs. Delany, Mr. Bateman,
and your cousin, Fred. Montagu, dined here. Lord Guilford
was very obliging, and would have come if he dared have
ventured. Mrs, Montagu was at Bill Hill with Lady Gower.
The day was tolerable, with sun enough for the house,
though not for the garden. You, I suppose, never will
come again, as I have not a team of horses large enough to
draw you out of the clay of Oxfordshire.
I went yesterday to see my niece l in her new principality
of Ham. It delighted me and made me peevish. Close to
the Thames, in the centre of all rich and verdant beauty, it
is so blocked up and barricaded with walls, vast trees, and
gates, that you think yourself an hundred miles off and an
hundred years back. The old furniture is so magnificently
ancient, dreary and decayed, that at every step one's spirits
sink, and all my passion for antiquity could not keep them
up. Every minute I expected to see ghosts sweeping by ;
ghosts I would not give sixpence to see, Lauderdales,
Talmachs, and Maitlands 2 ! There is an old brown gallery
full of Vandycks and Lelys, charming miniatures, delightful
Wouvermans, and Polenburghs, china, japan, bronzes, ivory
cabinets, and silver dogs, pokers, bellows, &c., without end.
LKTTEE 1304. — * Charlotte, daugh- Countess of Dysart in her own right,
ter of Sir Edward Walpole and wife married (1) Sir Lionel Tollemache,
of fifth Earl of Dysart, who had re- third Baronet, of Helmingham, Suf-
cently succeeded to the title. folk ; (2) John Maitland, Duke of
2 Elizabeth Murray (d. 1698), Lauderdale.
177 o] To George Montagu 385
One pair of bellows is of filigree. In this state of pomp
and tatters my nephew intends it shall remain, and is so
religious an observer of the venerable rites of his house,
that because the gates never were opened by his father but
once for the late Lord Granville8, you are locked out and
locked in, and after journeying all round the house, as you
do round an old French fortified town, you are at last
admitted through the stable-yard to creep along a dark
passage by the housekeeper's room, and so by a back-door
into the great hall. He seems as much afraid of water as
a cat, for though you might enjoy the Thames from every
window of three sides of the house, you may tumble into it
before you would guess it is there. In short, our ancestors
had so little idea of taste and beauty, that I should not have
been surprised if they had hung their pictures with the
painted sides to the wall. Think of such a palace com-
manding all the reach of Kichmond and Twickenham, with
a domain from the foot of Richmond Hill to Kingston
Bridge, and then imagine its being as dismal and prospectless
as if it stood
On Stanmore's wintry wild !
I don't see why a man should not be divorced from his
prospect as well as from his wife, for not being able to
enjoy it. Lady Dysart frets, but it is not the etiquette of
the family to yield, and so she must content herself with
her chateau of Tondertentronk as well as she can. She has
another such ample prison in Suffolk 4, and may be glad to
reside where she is. Strawberry, with all its painted glass
and gloomth, looked as gay when I came home as Mrs.
Cornelis's ball-room.
I am very busy about the last volume of my Painters,
but have lost my index, and am forced again to turn over
all my Vertues, forty volumes of miniature MSS. ; so this
» Father-in-law of the late Earl. * Helmingham Hall.
WALPOLE. VII
386 To Sir Horace Mann [1770
will be the third time I shall have made an index to them.
Don't say I am not persevering, and yet I thought I was
grown .idle. What pains one takes to be forgotten ! Good
night !
Yours ever,
H. WALPOLE.
1305. To SIR HOEACE MANN.
Arlington Street, June 16, 1770.
I HAVE no public event to tell you, though I write again
sooner than I purposed. The journey of the Princess
Dowager to Germany is indeed an extraordinary circum-
stance l, but besides its being a week old, as I do not know
the motives, I have nothing to say upon it. It is much
canvassed and sifted, and yet perhaps she was only in
search of a little repose from the torrents of abuse that have
been poured upon her for some years. Yesterday they
publicly sung about the streets a ballad, the burthen of
which was, the cow has left her calf. With all this we are
grown very quiet, and Lord North's behaviour is so sensible
and moderate that he offends nobody.
Our family has lost a branch, but I cannot call it a mis-
fortune. Lord Cholmondeley 2 died last Saturday. He was
seventy, and had a constitution to have carried him to an
hundred, if he had not destroyed it by an intemperance,
especially in drinking, that would have killed anybody else
in half the time. As it was, he had outlived by fifteen
years all his set, who have reeled into the ferry-boat so long
before him. His grandson5 seems good and amiable, and
LETTER 1305. — * The object of the 2 George, third Earl of Cholmon-
Princess's journey was to see and re- deley, married Mary, daughter of Sir
monstrate with her daughter, the Robert Walpole. Walpole,
Queen of Denmark, upon her undue 3 Q-eorge James Cholmondeley
familiarity with the physician Stru- (1749-1827), fourth Earl of Cholmon-
ensee, deley, created a Marquis in 1816.
1770] To Sir Horace Mann 387
though he conies into but a small fortune for an earl, five-
and-twenty hundred a year, his uncle the General4 may
re-establish him upon a great foot — but it will not be in his
life, and the General does not sail after his brother on a sea
of claret.
You have heard details, to be sure, of the horrible
catastrophe at the fireworks at Paris B. Frances, the French
minister, told me the other night that the number of the
killed is so great that they now try to stifle it ; my letters
say between five and six hundred ! I think there were not
fewer than ten coach-horses trodden to death. The mob
had poured down from the Etoile by thousands and ten
thousands to see the illuminations, and did not know the
havoc they were occasioning. The impulse drove great
numbers into the Seine, and those met with the most
favourable deaths.
We hear again that my Lady Orford is coming to England
— I cannot believe it, after she has been twice at Calais and
recoiled.
This is a slight summer letter, but you will not be sorry
it is so short, when the dearth of events is the cause. Last
year I did not know but we might have a battle of Edgehill
by this time. At present, my Lord Chatham could as
soon raise money as raise the people ; and Wilkes will not
much longer have more power of doing either. If you was
not busy in burning Constantinople, you could not have
a better opportunity for taking a trip to England. Have
you never a wish this way? Think what satisfaction it
would be to me ! — but I never advise ; nor let my own
inclinations judge for my friends. I had rather suffer their
absence, than have to reproach myself with having given
4 General Hon. James Cholmon- of the Dauphin to the Archduchess
deley ; d. 1775. Marie Antoinette. The catastrophe
6 On the occasion of the marriage was caused by a panic in the crowd.
C C 2
388 To George Montagu [1770
them bad counsel. I therefore say no more on what would
make me so happy. Adieu !
1306. To GEORGE MONTAGU.
Strawberry Hill, June 29, 1770.
SINCE the sharp mountain will not come to the little hill,
the little hill must go to the Mont-aigu. In short, what do
you think of seeing me walk into your parlour a few hours
after this epistle ? I had not time to notify myself sooner.
The case is, Princess Amalie has insisted on my going with
her to, that is, meeting her at, Stowe on Monday, for a week.
She mentioned it some time ago, and I thought I had parried
it, but having been with her at Park Place these two or three
days, she has commanded it so positively, that I could not
refuse. Now, as it would be extremely inconvenient to my
indolence to be dressed up in weepers and hatbands by six
o'clock in the morning, and lest I should be taken for chief
mourner going to Beckford's 1 funeral, I trust you will be
charitable enough to give me a bed at Atterbury 2 for one
night, whence I can arrive at Stowe in a decent time, and
caparisoned as I ought to be, when I have lost a brother-in-
law, and am to meet a Princess. Don't take me for a Lausun3,
and think all this favour portends a second marriage between
our family and the blood royal ; nor that my visit to Stowe
implies my espousing Miss Wilkes *. I think I shall die as
I am, neither higher nor lower ; and above all things, no
more politics. Yet I shall have many a private smile to
myself, as I wander among all those consecrated and
desecrated buildings, and think what company I am in, and
LKTTKB1806. — 1 William Beckford fun, and his projected marriage to
died on June 21, 1770. Mademoiselle de Montpensier, cousin
2 Adderbury, in Oxfordshire. of Louis XIV.
s An allusion to Antoine Nompar 4 Mary, daughter of John Wilkes ;
de Caumont (1633-1723), Duo de Lau- d. unmarried, 1802.
mo] To George Montagu 389
of all that is past — but I must shorten my letter, or you
will not have finished it when I arrive. Adieu ! Yours —
a-coming ! a-coming ! H. W.
1307. To GEOBGE MONTAGU.
Adderbury, Sunday night, July 1, 1770.
You will be enough surprised to receive a letter from me
dated from your own house, and may judge of my mortifica-
tion at not finding you here — exactly as it happened two
years ago. In short, here I am, and will tell you how
I came here — in truth, not a little against my will. I have
been at Park Place with Princess Amalie, and she insisted
on my meeting her at Stowe to-morrow. She had men-
tioned it before, and as I have no delight in a royal progress,
and as little in the Seigneur Temple, I waived the honour
and pleasure, and thought I should hear no more of it.
However, the proposal was turned into a command, and
everybody told me I could not refuse. Well, I could not
come so near, and not call upon you ; besides, it is extremely
convenient to my Lord Castlecomer, for it would have been
horrid to set out at seven o'clock in the morning, full-dressed
in my weepers, and to step out of my chaise into a drawing-
room. I wrote to you on Friday, the soonest I could after
this was settled, to notify myself to you, but find I am
arrived before my letter. Mrs. White is all goodness ; and
being the first of July, and consequently the middle of
winter, has given me a good fire and some excellent coffee
and bread and butter, and I am as comfortable as possible,
except in having missed you. She insists on acquainting
you, which makes me write this to prevent your coming ;
for as I must depart at twelve o'clock to-morrow, it would
be dragging you home before your time for only half an
hour, and I have too much regard for Lord Guilford to
390 To George Montagu [1770
deprive him of your company. Don't therefore think of
making me this unnecessary compliment. I have treated
your house like an inn, and it will not be friendly, if you
do not make as free with me. I had much rather that you
would take it for a visit that you ought to repay. Make my
best compliments to your brother and Lord Gruilford, and
pity me for the six dreadful days I am going to pass. Kosette
is fast asleep in your chair, or I am sure she would write
a postscript. I cannot say that she is either commanded or
invited to be of this royal party ; but have me, have my dog.
I must not forget to thank you for mentioning Mrs.
Wetenhall, on whom I should certainly wait with great
pleasure, but have no manner of intention of going into
Cheshire. There is not a chair or a stool in Cholmondeley,
and my nephew, I believe,^ will pull it down. He has not
a fortune to furnish or inhabit it ; and, if his uncle should
leave him one, he would choose a pleasanter country.
Adieu ! Don't be formal with me, forgive me, and don't
trouble your head about me. Yours ever,
H. WALPOLE.
1308. To GEORGE MONTAGU.
Strawberry Hill, Saturday night, July 7, 1770.
AFTER making an inn of your house, it is but decent to
thank you for my entertainment, and to acquaint you with
the result of my journey. The party passed off much better
than I expected. A Princess at the head of a very small set
for five days together did not promise well. However, she
was very good-humoured and easy, and dispensed with
a large quantity of etiquette. Lady Temple is good nature
itself, my Lord was very civil, Lord Besborough is made
to suit all sorts of people, Lady Mary Coke respects
royalty too much not to be very condescending, Lady Ann
I7?o] To George Montagu 391
Howard ' and Mrs. Middleton 2 filled up the drawing-room,
or rather made it out, and I was so determined to carry
it off as well as I could, and happened to be in such good
spirits, and took such care to avoid politics, that we laughed
a great deal, and had not a cloud the whole time.
We breakfasted at half an hour after nine ; but the
Princess did not appear till it was finished ; then we
walked in the garden, or drove about it in cabriolets, till
it was time to dress ; dined at three, which, though properly
proportioned to the smallness of company to avoid ostenta-
tion, lasted a vast while, as the Princess eats and talks
a great deal; then again into the garden till past seven,
when we came in, drank tea and coffee, and played at
pharaoh till ten, when the Princess retired, and we went
to supper, and before twelve to bed. You see there was
great sameness and little vivacity in all this. It was a little
broken by fishing, and going round the park one of the
mornings; but, in reality, the number of buildings and
variety of scenes in the garden made each day different
from the rest : and my meditations on so historic a spot
prevented my being tired. Every acre brings to one's mind
some instance of the parts or pedantry, of the taste or want
of taste, of the ambition or love of fame, or greatness or
miscarriages, of those that have inhabited, decorated,
planned, or visited the place. Pope, Congreve, Vanbrugh,
Kent, Gibbs, Lord Cobham, Lord Chesterfield, the mob of
nephews, the Lytteltons, Grenvilles, Wests, Leonidas Glover
and Wilkes, the late Prince of Wales, the King of Denmark,
Princess Amelie, and the proud monuments of Lord
Chatham's services, now enshrined there, then anathematized
LETTER 1308. — T Eldest daughter married in 1784), fourth daughter of
of fourth Earl of Carlisle by his Sir William Middleton, second Baro-
secoiid wife, and Lady-in- Waiting to net, of Belsay Castle, near Newcastle-
the Princess Amelia. on-Tyne, and Lady-in- Waiting to the
8 Mrs. Catherine Middleton (d. on- Princess Amelia.
392 To George Montagu [1770
there, and now again commanding there, with the Temple
of Friendship, like the Temple of Janus, sometimes open to
war, and sometimes shut up in factious cabals — all these
images crowd upon one's memory, and add visionary person-
ages to the charming scenes, that are so enriched with fanes
and temples, that the real prospects are little less than
visions themselves.
On Wednesday night a small Vauxhall was acted for us
at the grotto in the Elysian fields, which was illuminated
with lamps, as were the thicket and two little barks on the
lake. With a little exaggeration I could make you believe
that nothing ever was so delightful. The idea was really
pretty, but, as my feelings have lost something of their
romantic sensibility, I did not quite enjoy such an enter-
tainment dL fresco so much as I should have done twenty
years ago. The evening was more than cool, and the
destined spot anything but dry. There were not half
lamps enough, and no music but an ancient militia-man,
who played cruelly on a squeaking tabor and pipe. As our
procession descended the vast flight of steps into the garden,
in which was assembled a crowd of people from Buckingham
and the neighbouring villages to see the Princess and the
show, the moon shining very bright, I could not help
laughing as I surveyed our troop, which, instead of tripping
lightly to such an Arcadian entertainment, were hobbling
down by the balustrades, wrapped up in cloaks and great-
coats, for fear of catching cold. The Earl, you know, is
bent double, the Countess very lame, I am a miserable
walker, and the Princess, though as strong as a Brunswic
lion, makes no figure in going down fifty stone stairs.
Except Lady Ann — and by courtesy Lady Mary, we were
none of us young enough for a pastoral. We supped in the
grotto, which is as proper to this climate as a sea-coal fire
would be in the dog-days at Tivoli.
mo] To George Montagu 393
But the chief entertainment of the week, at least what
was so to the Princess, is an arch, which Lord Temple
has erected to her honour in the most enchanting of all
picturesque scenes. It is inscribed on one side AMELIAE
SOPHIAE, AUG., and has a medallion of her on the other.
It is placed on an eminence at the top of the Elysian fields,
in a grove 6f orange-trees. You come to it on a sudden,
and are startled with delight on looking through it : you at
once see, through a glade, the river winding at the bottom ;
from which a thicket rises, arched over with trees, but
opened, and discovering a hillock full of hay-cocks, beyond
which in front is the Palladian bridge, and again over that
a larger hill crowned with the castle. It is a tall landscape
framed by the arch and the over-bowering trees, and com-
prehending more beauties of light, shade, and buildings,
than any picture of Albano I ever saw.
Between the flattery and the prospect the Princess was
really in Elysium : she visited her arch four and five times
every day, and could not satiate herself with it. The
statues of Apollo and the Muses stand on each side of the
arch. One day she found in Apollo's hand the following
lines, which I had written for her, and communicated to
Lord Temple : —
T'other day, with a beautiful frown on her brow,
To the rest of the gods said the Venus of Stow,
' What a fuss is here made with that arch just erected !
How our temples are slighted, our altars neglected !
Since yon nymph has appear'd, we are noticed no more,
All resort to her shrine, all her presence adore ;
And what's more provoking, before all our faces,
Temple thither has drawn both the Muses and Graces/
' Keep your temper, dear child,' Phoebus cried with a smile,
' Nor this happy, this amiable festival spoil.
Can your shrine any longer with garlands be drest?
When a true goddess reigns, all the false are supprest.'
394 To the Earl of Stra/ord [1770
If you will keep my counsel, I will own to you, that
originally the two last lines were much better, but I was
forced to alter them out of decorum, not to be too pagan
upon the occasion ; in short, here they are as in the first
sketch, —
Eecollect, once before that our oracle ceased,
When a real Divinity rose in the East.
So many heathen temples around had made me talk as
a Eoman poet would have done : but I corrected my verses,
and have made them insipid enough to offend nobody.
Good night. I am rejoiced to be once more in the gay
solitude of my own little Tempe. Yours ever,
H. W.
1309. To THE EAKL OF STEAFFOBD.
Strawberry Hill, July 9, 1770.
I AM not going to tell you, my dear Lord, of the diversions
or honours of Stowe, which I conclude Lady Mary1 has writ
to Lady Strafford. Though the week passed cheerfully
enough, it was more glory than I should have sought of
my own head. The journeys to Stowe and Park Place
have deranged my projects so, that I don't know where
I am, and I wish they have not given me the gout into
the bargain ; for I am come back very lame, and not at
all with the bloom that one ought to have imported from
the Elysian fields. Such jaunts when one is growing old is
playing with edged tools, as my Lord Chesterfield, in one of
his Worlds, makes the husband say to his wife, when she
pretends that grey powder does not become her. It is
charming at twenty to play at Elysian fields a, but it is no
joke at fifty ; or too great a joke. It made me laugh as we
LETTER 1309. — * Lady Mary Coke, sister of Lady StrafFord.
2 At Stowe. Walpole.
1770] To the Earl of Stmfford 395
were descending the great flight of steps from the house
to go and sup in the grotto on the banks of Helicon: we
were so cloaked up, for the evening was very cold, and so
many of us were limping and hobbling, that Charon would
have easily believed we were going to ferry over in earnest.
It is with much more comfort that I am writing to your
Lordship in the great bow-window of my new round room,
which collects all the rays of the south-west sun, and
composes a sort of summer ; a feel I have not known this
year, except last Thursday. If the rains should ever cease,
and the weather settle to fine, I shall pay you my visit at
Wentworth Castle ; but hitherto the damps have affected
me so much, that I am more disposed to return to London
and light my fire, than brave the humours of a cb'mate so
capricious and uncertain, in the country. I cannot help
thinking it grows worse ; I certainly remember such a thing
as dust : nay, I still have a clear idea of it, though I have
seen none for some years, and should put some grains in
a bottle for a curiosity, if it should ever fly again.
News I know none. You may be sure it was a subject
carefully avoided at Stowe ; and Beckford's death had not
raised the glass or spirits of the master of the house. The
papers make one sick with talking of that noisy vapouring
fool, as they would of Algernon Sidney.
I have not happened to see your future nephew s, though
we have exchanged visits. It was the first time I had been
at Marble Hill since poor Lady Suffolk's death ; and the
impression was so uneasy, that I was not sorry not to find
him at home. Adieu, my good Lord ! Except seeing you
both, nothing can be more agreeable than to hear of yours
and Lady Stratford's health, who, I hope, continues perfectly
well.
* John, second Earl of Bucking- daughter of Lady Anne Conolly, sister
ham, married to his second wife a of Lord Strafford, Walpcle.
396 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [1770
1310. To THE HON. HENEY SEYMOUE CONWAY.
Arlington Street, July 12, 1770.
EEPOSING under my laurels! No, no, I am reposing in
a much better tent, under the tester of my own bed. I am
not obliged to rise by break of day and be dressed for the
drawing-room ; I may saunter in my slippers till dinner-
time, and not make bows till my back is as much out of
joint as my Lord Temple's. In short, I should die of the
gout or fatigue, if I was to be Polonius to a Princess for
another week1. Twice a day we made a pilgrimage to
almost every heathen temple in that province that they
call a garden ; and there is no sallying out of the house
without descending a flight of steps as high as St. Paul's.
My Lord Besborough would have dragged me up to the top
of the column, to see all the kingdoms of the earth ; but
I would not, if he could have given them to me. To crown
all, because we live under the line, and that we were all of
us giddy young creatures, of near threescore, we supped in
a grotto in the Elysian fields, and were refreshed with rivers
of dew and gentle showers that dripped from all the trees,
and put us in mind of the heroic ages, when kings and
queens were shepherds and shepherdesses, and lived in
caves, and were wet to the skin two or three times a day.
Well ! thank Heaven, I am emerged from that Elysium,
and once more in a Christian country ! — Not but, to say the
truth, our pagan landlord and landlady were very obliging,
and the party went off much better than I expected. We
had no very recent politics, though volumes about the
Spanish war ; and as I took care to give everything a
ludicrous turn as much as I could, the Princess was
diverted, the six days rolled away, and the seventh is my
LETTER 1810. — * Mr. Walpole had meet her royal highness the late
been for a week at Stowe, the seat of Princess Amelia. Walpole.
Earl Temple, with a party invited to
mo] To George Montagu 397
sabbath ; and I promise you I will do no manner of work,
I, nor my cat, nor my dog, nor anything that is mine. For
this reason, I entreat that the journey to Goodwood may
not take place before the 1 2th of August, when I will attend
you. But this expedition to Stowe has quite blown up my
intended one to Wentworth Castle : I have not resolution
enough left for such a journey. Will you and Lady Ailesbury
come to Strawberry before, or after Goodwood? I know
you like being dragged from home as little as I do ; there-
fore you shall place that visit just when it is most convenient
to you.
I came to town the night before last, and am just return-
ing. There are not twenty people in all London. Are not
you in despair about the summer ? It is horrid to be ruined
in coals in June and July. Adieu ! Yours ever,
HOR. WALPOLE.
1311. To GEOEGE MONTAGU.
Strawberry Hill, July 14, 1770.
I SEE by the papers this morning that Mr. Jenkinson l is
dead. He had the reversion of my place, which would go
away, if I should lose my brother. I have no pretensions
to ask it, and you know it has long been my fixed resolution
not to accept it. But as Lord North is your particular
friend, I think it right to tell you, that you may let him
know what it is worth, that he may give it to one of his
own sons, and not bestow it on somebody else, without
LETTER 1311.— t This was a false miralty, 1766-67 ; Lord of the Trea-
report. Charles Jenkinson (1729- sury, 1767-73 ; Joint Vice-Treasurer
1808), M.P. for Appleby; or. (1786) of Ireland, 1772-75; Secretary at
Baron Hawkesbury of Hawkesbury, War, 1778-82 ; President of the
Gloucestershire; succeeded his cousin Board of Trade, 1786-1804. He had
as seventh Baronet in 1789 ; or. great influence with George III, and
Earl of Liverpool in 1796. Under was one of the small body known as
Secretary of State for the Southern the ' King's friends.'
Province, 1761-62 ; Lord of the Ad-
398 To George Montagu [1770
being apprised of its value. I have seldom received less
than fourteen hundred a year in money, and my brother,
I think, has four more from it. There are besides many
places in the gift of the office, and one or two very consider-
able. Do not mention this but to Lord North, or Lord
Guilford. It is unnecessary, I am sure, for me to say to
you, but I would wish them to be assured that in saying
this, I am incapable of, and above any finesse or view to
myself. I refused the reversion for myself several years
ago, when Lord Holland was Secretary of State, and offered
to obtain it for me. Lord Bute, I believe, would have been
very glad to have given it to me, before he gave it to
Jenkinson ; but I say it very seriously, and you know
me enough to be certain I am in earnest, that I would
not accept it upon any account. Any favour Lord North
will do for you will give me all the satisfaction I desire.
I am near fifty-three ; I have neither ambition nor interest
to gratify. I can live comfortably for the remainder of my
life, though I should be poorer by 1,400Z. a year; but I
should have no comfort if, in the dregs of life, I did
anything that I would not do when I was twenty years
younger. I will trust to you, therefore, to make use of
this information in the friendly manner I mean it, and to
prevent my being hurt by its being taken otherwise than
as a design to serve those to whom you wish well. Adieu !
Yours ever,
H. W.
1312. To GEOEGE MONTAGU.
Strawberry Hill, Sunday [July 15, 1770].
I AM sorry I wrote to you last night, for I find it is the
woman Jenkinson * that is dead, and not the man ; and
LETTER 1312. — l Amelia, daughter William and President of the Council
of William Watts, Governor of Port in Bengal ; m. (1769), as his first wife,
mo] To Sir Horace Mann 399
therefore I should be glad to have this arrive time enough
to prevent your mentioning the contents of my letter. In
that case, I should not be concerned to have given you that
mark of my constant good wishes, nor to have talked to you
of my affairs, which are as well in your breast as my own.
They never disturb me, for my mind has long taken its
stamp, and as I shall leave nobody much younger than
myself behind me for whom I am solicitous, I have no
desire beyond being easy for the rest of my life: I could
not be so if I stooped to have obligations to any man
beyond what it would ever be in my power to return.
When I was in Parliament, I had the additional reason of
choosing to be entirely free ; and my strongest reason of
all is, that I will be at liberty to speak truth both living
and dead*. This outweighs all considerations of interest,
and will convince you, though I believe you do not want
that conviction, that my yesterday's letter was as sincere in
its resolution as in its professions to you. Let the matter
drop entirely, as it is now of no consequence. Adieu !
Yours ever,
H. W.
1313. To SIE SCRAGS MANN.
Strawberry Hill, July 26, 1770.
ARE you not glad to have been so long without hearing
from me ? Your ministerial blood has had time to cool, and
settle into the channels of representative dignity. Instead
of Wilkes having been so, it looks as if Beckford had been
the firebrand of politics, for the flame has gone out entirely
since his death,
And corn grows now where Troy town stood :
Charles Jenkinson, afterwards Earl 2 Probably an allusion to the
of Liverpool. Memoirs.
400 To Sir Horace Mann [mo
both country gentlemen and farmers are thinking of their
harvest, not of petitions and remonstrances.
Yet, don't think I write merely to tell you that I have
nothing to tell you. If I have nothing to tell, I have some-
thing to ask — something that you would grant without my
asking, and yet that you will like to do because I ask it. In
short, not to convert my request into a riddle, the Duke of
Newcastle's eldest son, Lord Lincoln, is coming to your
Florence, and his father has desired my recommendation.
I have represented how little occasion there could be for
my interposition ; you knew his father, are obliging to
everybody, and attentive to such rank. However, if you
can throw in a little extraordinary cordiality for my sake,
it will much oblige me. The Duke and I have been
intimate from our schoolhood, and I should like to have
him find that I have been zealous about his son. But if
a word is enough to the wise, a syllable is enough to the
kindness and friendship you have ever had for me, and there-
fore I will only add, that the Duke has begged another
word for Mr. Chamberlayne1, who travels with Lord Lincoln.
I hope you will find he deserves it : I do not know him, and
therefore I am always in a fright when I frank anybody to
you that I cannot answer for. And, what is worse, you
never complain though one send you bears or tigers.
My Lady Orford has been in England this month, and
overwhelms folks with kisses and embraces. I suppose her
son thinks she would stifle him, for I believe he has not
come near her — but I do not trouble myself with their
affairs. She is now gone to her estate in Devonshire, and
they say talks of returning to Italy in September.
LBTTKB 1318. — l Probably Edward Secretary to the Treasury in March
Chamberlayne, who also acted as 1788, but was so overcome by the
tutor to the eldest son of Horace idea of his responsibilities that he
Walpole's cousin, Lord Walpole of committed suicide after holding hia
Wolterton. He was appointed Joint office a few days.
mo] To Sir Horace Mann 401
I have quite done with your Eussian expedition ; it
travels as slowly as if it went by the stage-coach. I expected
another Bajazet in chains by this time. Instead of that,
they are haggling with the Turk about some barbarous
villages in the Morea. They stop at everything, though
their mistress stops at nothing. I know this is a very brief
letter ; but you do not wish that I should have a battle of
Naseby to send you. Adieu !
1314 To SIR HORACE MANN.
Arlington Street, Aug. 31, 1770.
I MUST write to you this very minute. I have just seen
my Lady Orford and Cavalier Mozzi. I came to town this
morning on some business, and after dinner went to Holland
House, where I was sitting with Lord and Lady Holland,
when the Countess and her knight-errant were announced.
Lady Holland was distressed, and offered to go down to her :
I said, by no means, it was quite a matter of indifference to
me ; nay, that I had rather see her than not. Up they
came : we bowed and curtseyed, grew perfectly free immedi-
ately, and like two persons that are well-bred, easy, and not
much acquainted. She stayed a full hour ; we pronounced
each other's name without any difficulty, and when she took
leave, for she sets out on Tuesday, she asked if I had any
orders for Paris. I find her grown much older, bent, her
cheeks fallen in, and half her teeth fallen out ; but much
improved in her manner and dress. The latter is that of
other old women, her face not flustered and heated as it
used to be, her impetuosity and eager eyes reduced within
proper channels, and none of her screams and exclamations
left, though a good deal of kissing remains at her entry and
exit. It is not fair to judge at first sight and hearing, but
the cavalier seems no genius, and still less adapted to his
WALPOLE. VII D d
402 To Sir Horace Mann [1770
profession en Hire d 'office. I cannot say I discovered anything
of the Countess's asthma or ill-health. So I hear her silly
son thought. He has at last been to see her, but I believe
only once, and that for one hour only. I do not think that
if she was dying, he would give himself more trouble : he
has no more attention for himself than for anybody else.
If you saw this town, you would not think there could be
any news in it. It is as empty as Ferrara. Not that there
is anything more new anywhere else. If a dead calm
portends a storm at land as well as at sea, we are at the
eve of a violent hurricane. We have lived these two months
upon the poor Duke of Cumberland, whom the newspapers,
in so many letters, call the Royal Idiot. I do not know how
such language will be taken abroad, but there has been
a paper on the King of Spain that has half-choked the
Prince of Masserano. Unluckily, it was written with
uncommon humour, and described his Catholic Majesty
falling down upon the floor with excessive fatigue from
thrashing a horse in the tapestry, which he tried to mount.
Another paper on Louis XV was threatened, but two French
officers went to the printer and assured Him that they would
have the honour of putting him to death if a word appeared
against their master, — and the paper has not appeared.
The Spanish Ambassador has menaced and complained :
the ministers, who could scarce keep their countenances,
the paper was so droll, lamented, 'Ma, che fare? Not
a tapestry-horse at home escapes: how can we make you
reparation, when we cannot help ourselves ? ' In the mean-
time, I must confess, we are a parcel of savages, and scalp
all the world.
Our newspapers tell us of Kussian victories by sea and
land, but I will not believe them till they have your
confirmation. I hate such rambling wars: the accounts
are more like a book of travels, than journals of a campaign.
1770] To Lady Mary Coke 403
One hears a town is besieged, and three months after, one
learns that no army has been within two hundred leagues
of it. I know almost as much of the Emperor of the moon
as of the Grand Signior.
My Lady Orford says you have the gout — I don't mean
just now, but she spoke of it as if it was upon your regular
establishment. She offered to carry you a pair of the
bootikins, but I said I thought I had sent you some, at
least that I had mentioned them to you. Did not I?
Your brother finds benefit from them, and I very consider-
able benefit. You have said so little of your gout, that
I thought it was not more than, as the French say, a
pretension. She says as everybody says, that you are
fatter. I wonder what she thought of me ; I believe she
did not find me much younger than I thought her ; con-
sidering it is at least sixteen years since we met, and such
a period embellishes nobody.
Adieu ! my dear Sir, tell me if you would have any
bootikins. I had rather you would tell me you have no
occasion for them ; not that I am one of the great abhorrers
of the gout ; at least, as I have it rarely. I find it a total
dispensation from physicians, and that is something.
1315. To LADY MAEY COKE.
Strawberry Hill, Sept. 13, 1770.
THE first moment's intermission from pain ought to be
dedicated, good Lady Mary, to you, though I have still
enough left to make even the pleasure of writing to you
some anguish. Your kindness never alters, you [are] one
of the very few upon whom one may for ever depend. As
I have been out of bed but two single hours since Saturday
LETTER 1815. — Not in C. ; reprinted from Letters and Journals of Lady
Mary Coke, vol iii. p. 283, n. 1.
D d 2
404 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [1770
night, I cannot dare to guess when I shall be in town.
I should be sorry indeed not to see your Ladyship before you
go, but at present I am worse than I should wish any friend
to see me. Be so good as to thank Lady Greenwich and
Lady Charlotte Edwin for their goodness to me, and if you
see Lady Townshend, pray be so obliging as to tell her how
sincerely I am concerned for her loss '. I am too weak to
say more. I wish you all the happiness you deserve, Lady
Mary, and am ever faithfully and devotedly yours,
Hon. WALPOLE.
1316. To THE COUNTESS OP UPPEE OSSOKY.
Strawberry Hill [Sept. 1770].
I AM quite ashamed, Madam, that your Ladyship should
ask for such trifles as my writings, and ask so often. I beg
your pardon, and obey, to save you any more trouble; which
is the cause of my sending them in so improper a manner.
I have none bound, nor any but what I send. There are, in
truth, besides, and I ought to blush that there are so many,
the Anecdotes of Painting, the Castle of Otranto, and Richard
the Third. The first cannot entertain you ; the second, not
a second time ; and the third must appear dry when no
longer a novelty. Your Ladyship shall have all these if
you please, but be assured that, though nobody's approbation
flatters me so much as your Ladyship's, it cannot persuade
me that my writings deserve half you are so good as to say
of them. If you knew how little I am content with them,
you would know that I had much rather never hear them
mentioned. As I wish to be allowed to see your Ladyship
and Lord Ossory as much as I may without being trouble-
1 The death of her daughter-in- original editor, but the day of the
law, Lady Townshend. month is probably wrong, as the
LITTER 1316.— Dated Sept. 15 by following letter ia dated Sept. 15.
1770] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 405
some, let it be, Madam, without the authorship coming in
question. I hold that character as cheap as I do almost
everything else, and, having no respect for authors, am not
weak enough to have any for myself on that account. It is
a much greater honour to be permitted to call myself
Yours, &c.
1317. To THB COUNTESS OP UPPER OSSORY.
Strawberry Hill, Sept. 15, 1770.
IT was lucky for your Ladyship and Lord Ossory, that
I prevented your doing me the honour of a visit last
Monday. The very night I wrote (this day se'nnight) I
was put into my bed, and have not been out of it since
but three times, to have it made. I will not tell your
Ladyship what I have suffered, because lovers and good
Christians are alone allowed to brag of their pains, and
to be very vain of being very miserable. I am content
at present with having recovered my write-ability enough
to thank your Ladyship and Lord Ossory for your kind
intentions, which, for my own sake, I have not virtue
enough to decline, nor for your sakes the confidence to
accept. Lord Ossory has seen me in the gout, and knows
I am not very peevish ; consequently you might bear to
make me a visit, but as I cannot flatter myself that I shall
be able to quit my bedchamber before Tuesday, since, at
this instant, I am writing in bed, I dare not ask you, Madam,
to risk passing any time in a sick chamber.
As nothing would give me more pleasure sincerely than
to see your Ladyship and Lord Ossory here for a few days,
when I could enjoy it, why should not you a short time
hence bring Mr. Fitzpatrick l, Harry Conway, Charles Fox,
LETTB* 1317. — l Hon. Richard of first Earl of Upper Ossory, and
Fitzpatrick (1747-1813), second son brother-in-law of Horace Walpole's
406 To Sir Horace Mann [i?70
or who you please, and make a little October party hither ?
It would be the most agreeable honour in the world to me,
and I flatter myself, from your kind disposition to me,
Madam, would not be very tedious to you. If you will
name your time, nothing slicUl interfere with it. When a
fit of the gout has just turned the corner, one flatters one-
self that nothing bad can happen, and one talks with an
impudent air of immortality — how you would smile if you
saw the figure my immortality makes at this moment !
I fancy I look very like the mummy of some sacred crane
which Egyptian piety bundled up in cered cloths, and called
preserving. The very bones of the claw I am writing with
are wrapped in a flannel glove. However, your Ladyship
sees to how near the end of my existence I am
Yours, &c.
1318. To SIR HOEACK MANN.
Strawberry Hill, Sept. 20, 1770.
YESTERDAY I received your confirmation of the great, the
vast, the complete victory of the Kussians * over the Turkish
fleet. Indeed, for shortness, I had chosen to credit the first
account. As all the part I take in it is the bigness of the
event, it would have lost all its poignancy if I had waited
to have it authenticated. It is impossible to interest oneself
for that woman, who, by murdering her husband, has had
an opportunity of spreading so much devastation. Yet, as
the French have miscarried in blowing up this conflagration,
I am not sorry Catharine is triumphant, It is amusing too,
correspondent, the Countess of Upper was the most intimate friend of
Ossory. He entered the army in Charles James Pox. He was a good
1765, and saw service daring the scholar, and a writer of vers de eoctete,
American War. He became M. P. for His Dorinda, o Town Eclogue, was
Tavistock in 1774 ; Chief Secretary printed at Strawberry Hill in 1775.
for Ireland, 1783 ; Secretary at War, LETTER 1318. — 1 At Chesme, in
1783 ; General, 1803. Fitzpatrick Asia Minor, on July 5, 1770.
1770] To Sir Horace Mann 407
to live at the crisis of a prodigious empire's fall. Conse-
quently, you must take care that Constantinople does not
escape. I do not insist on its being sacked, or that,
according to a line of Sir Charles Williams, in a parody
of a bombast rant of Lord Granville, there
Should viziers' heads come rolling down Constantinople's
streets !
I have no Christian fury to satiate, and wish revolutions
could happen with as little bloodshed as in the Rehearsal.
Nor do I interest myself for the honour of prophecies. If
the Church pretends, for want of knowing what better to do
with it, to wrench Daniel's times, and time, and half ® time,
to the present case, it can only be by the job being
accomplished in half the time that anybody else expected, —
and, let me tell you, it is a good deal for prophecy to come
a quarter so near any truth. What will the Czarina do
with the Ottoman world ? will she hold it in commendarn,
or send her son to reign there, that he may not remain too
near her own throne ? It may save poisoning him.
And pray what has carried the Pretender to Florence ?
Does he remain there ? Has anybody a mind to be doing
with him? He must be adroit indeed if he escapes your
vigilance.
I am laid at length upon my couch while I am writing to
you, having had the gout above these three weeks in my
hand, knee, and both feet, and am still lifted in and out
of bed by two servants. This gives me so melancholy a
prospect, that I taste very little comfort in that usual
compliment, of the gout being an earnest of long life, —
alas ! is not long life then, an earnest of the gout ? and do
the joys of old age compensate the pains ? What cowards
we are, when content to purchase one evil with another !
and when both are sure to grow worse upon our hands !
Let the happiest old person recount his enjoyments, and see
408 To Lady Mary Coke [1770
who would covet them ; yet each of us is weak enough to
expect a better lot ! Oh, my dear Sir, what self-deluding
fools we are through every state ! — but why fill you with my
gloom? perhaps our best resource is the cheat we practise
on ourselves. Adieu!
1319. To LADY MAEY COKE.
Monday evening, Sept. 24, 1770.
IT was a thorough mortification, dear Lady Mary, not to
see your Ladyship yesterday, when you was so very good as
to call ; and it was no small one not to be able to answer
your note this morning. My relapse, I believe, was owing
to the very sudden change of weather. However, it has
humbled me so much that I shall readily obey your com-
mands and be much more careful of not catching cold again.
If it is possible I shall remove to London before you set
out : if it is not, I wish you health, happiness, and amuse-
ment— and, may I say, a surfeit of travelling. I am glad
you cannot go and visit the Ottoman Emperor, and I have
too good an opinion of you to think you will visit the
Northern Fury. If after this journey you will not stay
at home with us, I protest I will have a painted oilcloth
hung at your door, with an account of your having been
shown to the Emperor of Germany and the Lord knows
how many other potentates. Well ! Madam, make haste
back ; you see how fast I grow old ; I shall not be a very
creditable lover long, nor able to drag a chain that is heavier
than that of your watch. Yet while a shadow of me lasts,
it will glide after you with friendly wishes, and put you in
mind of the attachment of
Your most faithful slave,
HOK. WALPOLE.
LETTER 1319. — Not in C. ; reprinted from Letters and Journals of Lady
Mary Coke, voL iii. p. 294, n. 1.
177o] To George Montagu 409
1320. To GEOEGE MONTAGU.
Strawberry Hill, Oct. 3, 1770.
I AM going on in the sixth week of my fit, and having
had a return this morning in my knee, I cannot flatter
myself with any approaching prospect of recovery. The
gate of painful age seems open to me, and I must travel
through it as I may !
If you have not written one word for another, I am at
a loss to understand you. You say you have taken a house
in London for a year, that you are gone to Waldeshare for
six months, and then shall come for the winter. Either you
mean six weeks, or differ with most people in reckoning
April the beginning of winter. I hope your pen was in
a hurry, rather than your calculation so uncommon. I
certainly shall be glad of your residing in London. I have
long wished to live nearer to you, but it was in happier
days — I am now so dismayed by these returns of gout, that
I can promise myself few comforts in any future scenes of
my life.
I am much obliged to Lord Guilford and Lord North,
and was very sorry that the latter came to see Strawberry
in so bad a day, and when I was so extremely ill, and full
of pain, that I scarce knew he was here ; and as my coach-
man was gone to London to fetch me bootikins, there was
no carriage to offer him — but, indeed, in the condition I then
was, I was not capable of doing any of the honours of my
house, suffering at once in my hand, knee, and both feet.
I am still lifted out of bed by two servants, and by their
help travel from my bedchamber down to the couch in my
blue room — but I shall conclude, rather than tire you with
so unpleasant a history. Adieu !
Yours ever,
H. W.
410 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [1770
1321. To THE COUNTESS OF UPPER OSSOEY.
Strawberry Hill, Oct. 4, 1770.
YOUR Ladyship's very obliging letter would at any other
time have been a cruel disappointment to me; but I am
so unfit to receive good company, that, in charity to your
Ladyship and Lord Ossory, I believe I should once more,
mortifying as it would have been to me, have begged you
to avoid me. Had you come hither, Madam, at your return
from Winterslow1, you would have found me about as much
at ease as St. Lawrence was upon his gridiron, and, though
I have been in no danger, as he was, I think I may say I
have been saved, but so as l>y fire ; for I do not believe roast-
ing is much worse than what I have suffered — one can be
broiled, too, but once ; but I have gone through the whole
fit twice, it returning the moment I thought myself cured.
I am still dandled in the arms of two servants, and not yet
arrived at my go-cart. In short, I am fit for nothing but
to be carried into the House of Lords to prophesy.
I beg your Ladyship's pardon for troubling you with this
account. The young and happy ought not to be wearied
with the histories of the ancient and the sick. We should
bid adieu to the world when we are no longer proper for it ;
it is enough if we are excused for being out of our coffin,
without fatiguing people till they wish one there. You
may depend upon it, therefore, Madam, that I will not
come to Houghton Park 2 with any monumental symptoms
about me. If by one of those miracles which self-love or
blindness firmly believes in, I should grow prodigiously
juvenile and healthy before Christmas, I will certainly come
LETTER 1321. — a Lord Holland's seat in Bedfordshire, with Houghton
seat near Salisbury. Park House, an ancient mansion at
a Horace Walpole here seems to no great distance from it.
confuse Ampthill Park, Lord Ossory's
mo] To Sir Horace Mann 411
and thank you, Madam, for all your goodness. If not, you
will, I trust, believe my gratitude, till I can assure you of
it in Brook Street, where I hope you will still allow me
a place by your fireside, in consideration of my having been
so long
Your Ladyship's most devoted, &c.
1322. To Sm HOEACE MANN.
Strawberry Hill, Oct. 4, 1770.
SEEING such accounts of press-gangs in the papers, and
such falling of stocks, you will wonder that in my last
I did not drop a military syllable. Alas ! when I had
a civil war all over my own person, you must not wonder,
unpatriotic as it was, that I forgot my country. But
I ought not to call ignorance forgetfulness : I did not even
know with whom we were going to war; and now that
I know with whom, I do not know that we are going to
war. England that lives in the north of Europe, and Spain
that dwells in the south, are vehemently angry with one
another about a morsel of rock l that lies somewhere at
the very bottom of America, — for modern nations are too
neighbourly to quarrel about anything that lies so near
them as in the same quarter of the globe. Pray, mind ;
we dethrone nabobs in the most north-east corner of the
Indies ; the Czarina sends a fleet from the Pole to besiege
Constantinople; and Spain huffs, and we arm, for one of
LETTER 1322. — l The Falkland bury) to demand the restitution of
Island. Walpole. — In Jane 1770 the the settlement and the disavowal of
English garrison at Port Egmont in the Governor's action. The court
the Falkland Isles was captured by of Spain refused to comply with these
the Spanish under the Governor of demands, and Mr. Harris was ordered
Buenos Ayres. When this news by the Secretary of State to leave
reached England (in October) the Madrid. Before he had got far from
Government made preparations for the capital he was overtaken by a
war, and instructed the English courier who announced that Spain
Charge d' Affaires at Madrid (Mr. had granted the demands of England
Harris, afterwards Earl of Malmes- (Jan. 1771).
412 To Sir Horace Mann [1770
the extremities of the southern hemisphere. It takes a
twelvemonth for any one of us to arrive at our object, and
almost another twelvemonth before we can learn what we
have been about. Your patriarchs, who lived eight or nine
hundred years, could afford to wait eighteen or twenty
months for the post coming in, but it is too ridiculous in
our post-diluvian circumstances. By next century, I suppose,
we shall fight for the Dog-star and the Great Bear. The
stocks begin to recover a little from their panic, and their
pulse is a very tolerable indication.
Two of your brethren died last Sunday morning ; so your
spurs, wherein true knighthood lies, should go into double
mourning. Lord Grantham * and Sir Richard Lyttelton are
the persons ; the latter died very suddenly, though each has
long been in a deplorable way, the first with excess of
scurvy, the latter with the loss of his limbs. Lord Gran-
tham was a miserable object, but Sir Eichard all jollity and
generosity, and a very cheerful statue.
I am not such a philosopher with my temporary confine-
ment. To-day I began to be led a little about the room.
The pain would be endurable, were it to end here ; but
being the wicket through which one squeezes into old age,
and the prospect pointing to more such wickets, I cannot
comfort myself with that common delusion of intermediate
health. What does the gout cure that is so bad as itself ?
With this raven-croaking mortality at my window, I am
acting as if I did not believe its bodings — I am building
again ! Nay, but only a bedchamber, the sort of room
I seem likely to inhabit much time together. It will be
large, and on the first floor, as I am not at all proud of
that American state, being carried on the shoulders of my
servants. Indeed, I raise mole-hills with little pleasure
2 Sir Thomas Robinson, Knight of the Bath, and first Lord Grantham of
that family. Walpole.
mo] To Sir Horace Mann 413
now. When reflection has once mixed itself with our
pursuits, it renders them very insipid. Charming, thought-
less folly can alone give any substance to our visions ! The
moment we perceive they are visions, it is in vain to shut
our eyes and pretend to dream.
Saturday, 6th.
I was interrupted on Thursday by a visit from London,
and now my letter cannot set out till Tuesday ; but it gives
me time to acknowledge one I received from you this morning
of September 22nd.
Notwithstanding the testimonies you give, and which
I well recollect, of the juvenile huntings of the great Prince
of Tuscany3, and the slaughter he used to make of game in
tapestry, it is, nevertheless, certain that the paper published
here was a mistake, and ascribed to him what related to his
predecessor. It was King Ferdinand that was so watch-
mad, and who kept a correspondence by constant couriers
with Elliker4, the famous watchmaker. It was Ferdinand,
too, who, on going out of the drawing-room, always made
an effort, or at least motion with his leg, that indicated
a temptation to mount a horse in tapestry that hung near
the door. It may, indeed, be a disorder in the family, and
it may run in the blood to have an itch after tapestry
animals. I am sure I wish I had a rage for riding and
shooting my furniture, by a genealogic disorder, instead of
the gout, which, though we can scarce discover any gouty
stains in my pedigree, I must conclude derived thence, as
my temperance and sobriety would have set up an ancient
philosopher. I begin to creep about my room, and can tell
you, for your comfort, that by the cool, uncertain manner in
which you speak of your fits, I am sure you never have had
the gout. I have known several persons talk of it, that
• Don Carlos, afterwards King of Naples, and then of Spain. Walpcte.
* Probably John Ellicott ; d. 1772.
414 To Sir Horace Mann [1770
might as well have fancied they had the gout when they
sneezed. You shall have, however, a pair of bootikins to
hang up in your armoury.
I still know nothing of the war. Vast preparations every-
where go on, yet nobody thinks it will ripen. We used to
make war without preparing; I hope the reverse will be
true now. Where is the gentleman 5 that came lately from
Kome? Has there been any thought of lending him a
tapestry-horse? There is a terrible set of hangings in the
House of Lords 6 that would frighten them — I was going to
say, out of, but I should say, into their senses. It is the
representation of the destruction of the Spanish Armada.
It is enough to cure the whole royal family of Spain of their
passion for encountering tapestry.
We have a new ship, which, I hear, terrifies all the foreign
ministers ; it is named the Britannia, and though carrying
an hundred and twenty guns, sails as pertly as a frigate.
Seamen flock in apace; the first squadron will consist of
sixteen ships of the line. Your Corps Diplomatique says
our seamen are so impetuous, and so eager for prize-money,
that it will be impossible to avoid a war : I am sure it would
be impossible if they were the contrary.
Who do you think is arrived ? The famous Princess
Daschkaw, the Czarina's favourite and accomplice, now in
disgrace — and yet alive ! Nay, both she and the Empress
are alive! She has put her son to Westminster School.
The devil is in it, if the son of a conspiratress with an
English education does not turn out a notable politician.
I am impatient to get well, or at least hope she may stay
till I am, that I may see her. Cooled as my curiosity is
about most things, I own I am eager to see this amazon,
who had so great a share in a revolution, when she was not
8 The Pretender. Walpole.
8 A tapestry in the Honse of Lords. Walpole.
1770] To George Montagu 415
above nineteen. I have a print of the Czarina, with Eussian
verses under it, written by this virago. I do not under-
stand them, but I conclude their value depends more on the
authoress than the poetry. One is pretty sure what they do
not contain — truth. Adieu !
1323. To GEORGE MONTAGU.
Arlington Street, Oct. 16, 1770.
AT last I have been able to remove to London, but though
seven long weeks are gone and over since I was seized, I am
only able to creep about upon a flat floor, but cannot go up
or down stairs. However, I have patience, as I can at least
fetch a book for myself, instead of having a servant bring
me a wrong one.
I am much obliged to Lord Guilford l for his goodness to
me, and beg my thanks to him.
When you go to Canterbury, pray don't wake the Black
Prince ; I am very unwarlike, and desire to live the rest of
my time upon the stock of glory I saved to my share out
of the last war.
I know no more news than I did at Strawberry ; there
are not more people in town than I saw there. I intend to
return thither on Friday or Saturday. Adieu !
Yours ever,
H. W.2
LETTER 1323. — 1 The letter is ad- spondence between himself and Mon-
dressed to tagu, is prefixed to the collection of
'George Montagu, Esq., the original letters of Walpole to
at the Earl of Guilford's, Montagu in the Kimbolton MSS. : —
Waldeshare, 'Mr. Frederick Montagu will do
" Kent.' what he pleases with these letters.
2 This is the last of the letters ad- As mine most be preserved, they may
dressed by Walpole to Montagu. The be kept together, as they may serve
following note in Horace Walpole's to explain passages in each other.
handwriting, relating to the corre- Oct. 28, 1784. HOB. WALPOLE '
416 To the Earl of Charkmont [1770
1324 To THE EAEL OP STBAFFOED.
Arlington Street, Oct. 16, 1770.
THOUGH I have so very little to say, it is but my duty,
my dear Lord, to thank you for your extreme goodness to
me and your inquiring after me. I was very bad again last
week, but have mended so much since Friday night, that
I really now believe the fit is over. I came to town on
Sunday, and can creep about my room even without a stick,
which is more felicity to me than if I had got a white one.
I do not aim yet at such preferment as walking upstairs ;
but having moulted my stick, I flatter myself I shall come
forth again without being lame.
The few I have seen tell me there is nobody else in town.
That is no grievance to me, when I should be at the mercy
of all that should please to bestow their idle time upon me.
I know nothing of the war-egg, but that sometimes it is to
be hatched and sometimes to be addled. Many folks get
into the nest, and sit as hard upon it as they can, concluding
it will produce a golden chick. As I shall not be a feather
the better for it, I hate that game-breed, and prefer the old
hen Peace and her dunghill brood. My compliments to my
Lady and all her poultry.
I am, my dear Lord,
Your infinitely obliged and faithful humble servant,
HOB. WALPOLE.
1325. To THE EAEL OF CHAELEMONT.
MY LORD, Arlington Street, Oct. 17, 1770.
I am very glad your Lordship resisted your disposition to
make me an apology for doing me a great honour ; for, if
you had not, the Lord knows where I should have found
words to have made a proper return. Still you have left
1770] To the Earl of Charlemont 417
me greatly in your debt. It is very kind to remember me,
and kinder to honour me with your commands : they shall
be zealously obeyed to the utmost of my little credit ; for an
artist that your Lordship patronizes will, I imagine, want
little recommendation, besides his own talents. It does not
look, indeed, like very prompt obedience, when I am yet
guessing only at Mr. Jervais's1 merit; but though he has
lodged himself within a few doors of me, I have not been
able to get to him, having been confined near two months
with the gout, and still keeping my house. My first visit
shall be to gratify my duty and curiosity. I am sorry to
say, and beg your Lordship's pardon for the confession, that,
however high an opinion I have of your taste in the arts,
I do not equally respect your judgement in books. It is in
truth a defect you have in common with the two great men
who are the respective models of our present parties —
The hero William, and the martyr Charles.
You know what happened to them after patronizing Kneller
and Bernini —
One knighted Blackmore, and one pension'd Quarles.
After so saucy an attack, my Lord, it is time to produce
my proof. It lies in your own postscript, where you express
a curiosity to see a certain tragedy, with a hint that the
other works of the same author have found favour in your
sight, and that the piece ought to have been sent to you.
But, my Lord, even your approbation has not made that
author vain ; and for the play in question, it has so many
perils to encounter, that it never thinks of producing itself.
It peeped out of its lurking corner once or twice ; and one
of those times, by the negligence of a friend, had like to
LETTER 1825. — l John Jervais or window in New College Chapel, Ox-
Jarvis (d. 1799), a glass-painter. He ford, for which the designs were
was afterwards employed on the given by Sir Joshua Reynolds.
WALPOLE. VII E Q
418 To Sir Horace Mann [mo
have been, what is often pretended in prefaces, stolen, and
consigned to the press. When your Lordship comes to
England, which, for every reason but that, I hope will
be soon, you shall certainly see it ; and will then allow,
I am sure, how improper it would be for the author to risk
its appearance in public. However, unworthy as that author
may be, from his talents, of your Lordship's favour, do not
let its demerits be confounded with the esteem and attach-
ment with which he has the honour to be, my Lord, your
Lordship's most devoted servant.
1326. To Sin HORACE MANN.
Arlington Street, Nov. 12, 1770.
I BEGIN my letter to-night, on the eve of many events,
which will probably fill my paper, but at present I am only
making my letter ready. The Parliament is to meet
to-morrow, though the definitive courier from Spain is
not expected these three days ; so the King's Speech must
blow both hot and cold. However, the ministers need fear
no Parliamentary war of any consequence. The deaths of
Beckford and Lord Granby, and that of Mr» Grenville1,
which is expected every day, leave Lord Chatham without
troops or generals, and unless like Almanzor2 he thinks
he can conquer alone, he must lean on Lord Eockingham ;
and God knows! that is a slender reed. Wilkes and his
party are grown ridiculous ; so that, upon the whole,
opposition is little formidable. I believe and hope the
complexion of the answer from Spain will be pacific. We
have by this time, or shall by to-morrow, have a Lord
LETTER 1326. — 1 George Grenville, chequer. Walpole.
younger brother of Richard, Earl 2 In Dryden's Conquest of Grenada.
Temple, had been First Lord of the Walpole.
Treasury, and Chancellor of the Ex-
1770] To Sir Horace Mann 419
Chancellor '. It is De Grey, the Attorney-General ; a very
proper one, as often as the gout will let him be so. I am
not afflicted with it like him, and mine, thanks to water
and the bootikins, is entirely gone ; yet I would not take
the Great Seal. Mr. Conway has succeeded Lord Granby as
Colonel of the Blues, the most agreeable post in the army.
Lady Aylesbury's father 4, the Duke of Argyle, is just dead ;
so the charming Duchess of Hamilton is now Duchess of
Argyle. As she is not quite so charming as she was, I don't
know whether it is not better than to retain a title that put
one in mind of her beauty. Lord Egmont8 is given over
too, so the next volume of our history will have few of the
old actors in it. Thus much for preface. To-morrow, or
Friday, I may tell you more.
To-morrow, 13th.
Mr. Grenville died at seven this morning ; consequently
Lord Chatham and Lord Temple cannot be at the House
of Lords. The King's Speech is very firm, and war must
ensue if Spain is not very yielding. As we shall probably
know in two or three days, I shall keep back my letter till
Friday.
Thursday, 15th.
No courier, no Chancellor yet. De Grey was only to be
Lord Keeper, and now hesitates — for men in these times are
the reverse of commodities at an auction : when there is but
one man to be sold, and but one bidder for him, that bidder
is forced to enhance upon himself. Half the revenue goes
in salaries, and the other half will go in pensions to persuade
people to accept those salaries. However, Lord Mansfield,
who had already been frightened out of the Speaker's chair,
will not be encouraged by a Junius that came out yesterday,
3 The Great Seal continued in com- of Argyll, in that title. Walpole.
mission until January 1771. 6 John Perceval, second Earl of
4 General John Campbell sue- Egmont. Walpole, — He died on Dec.
ceeded his cousin Archibald, Duke 4, 1770.
E 6 2
To Sir Horace Mann [1770
the most outrageous, I suppose, ever published against so
high a magistrate by name. The excess of abuse, the
personality, and new attacks on the Scotch, make people
ascribe it to Wilkes — to me the composition is far above him.
The Parliament opened with nothing more than conversa-
tion in both Houses : Lord Chatham, Lord Temple, and all
the friends of Mr. Grenville, absenting themselves, as he
was dead that morning. The complexion, however, seemed
to be military. Lord North spoke well, and with great
prudence ; Colonel Barr6 with wit and severity ; Burke
warmly, and not well. I write this to-day because I am
obliged to go to Strawberry to-morrow on some business of
my own ; but if I learn anything particular to-night, I will
add it before I set out in the morning.
Friday morning.
No, nothing new, but that Baron Smyth, one of the
Commissioners of the Great Seal, is to be Lord Keeper.
I know nothing of him, but that he is a Methodist, and
a grandson of Waller's Sacharissa, by a second husband.
Well ! I have seen the Princess Daschkaw, and she is well
worth seeing — not for her person, though, for an absolute
Tartar, she is not ugly : her smile is pleasing, but her eyes
have a very Catiline fierceness. Her behaviour is extra-
ordinarily frank and easy. She talks on all subjects, and
not ill, nor with striking pedantry, and is quick and very
animated. She puts herself above all attention to dress, and
everything feminine, and yet sings tenderly and agreeably,
with a pretty voice. She, and a Eussian lady that
accompanies her, sung two songs of the people, who are
all musical ; one was grave, the other lively, but with
very tender turns, and both resembling extremely the
Venetian barcarolles. She speaks English a little, under-
stands it easily : French is very familiar to her, and she
knows Latin. When the news of the naval victory over
1770] To the Eev. William Cole 421
the Turks arrived at Petersburg!!, the Czarina made the
archbishop mount the tomb of Peter the Great, and ascribe
the victory to him as the founder of the marine. It was
a bold coup de theatre, and Pagan enough. The discourse,
which is said to be very elegant, the Princess has translated
into French, and Dr. Hinchcliffe, Bishop of Peterborough,
is to publish it in English. But, as an instance of her
quickness and parts, I must tell you that she went to
a Quakers' meeting. As she came away, one of the women
came up to her, and told her she saw she was a foreigner,
that she wished her all prosperity, and should be very glad
if anything she had seen amongst them that day should
contribute to her salvation. The Princess thanked her very
civilly, and said, ' Madame, je ne scais si la voie de silence
n'est point la meilleure facon d'adorer 1'Etre Supreme.' In
short, she is a very singular personage, and I am extremely
pleased that I have seen her. Adieu !
1327. To THE EEV. WILLIAM COLE.
DEAR SIB, Arlington Street, Nov. 15, 1770.
If you have not engaged your interest in Cambridgeshire,
you will oblige me much by bestowing it on young Mr. Brand,
the son of my particular acquaintance, and our old school-
fellow. I am very unapt to trouble my head about elections,
but wish success to this.
If you see Bannerman, I should be glad you would tell
him that I am going to print the last volume of my
Painters, and should like to employ him again for some
of the heads, if he cares to undertake them : though there
will be a little trouble, as he does not reside in London.
I am in a hurry, and am forced to be brief, but am always
glad to hear of you, and from you. Yours most sincerely.
422 To the Rev. William Cole [1770
1328. To THE REV. WILLIAM COLE.
Arlington Street, Nov. 20, 1770.
I BELIEVE our letters crossed one another without knowing
it. Mine, it seems, was quite unnecessary, for I find
Mr. Brand has given up the election. Yours was very
kind and obliging, as they always are. Pray be so good
as to thank Mr. Tyson for me a thousand times ; I am
vastly pleased with his work, and hope he will give me
another of the plates for my volume of heads (for I shall
bind up his present), and I by no means relinquish his
promise of a complete set of his etchings, and of a visit to
Strawberry Hill. Why should it not be with you and
Mr. Essex, whom I shall be very glad to see — but what
do you talk of a single day ? Is that all you allow me in
two years ?
I rejoice to see Mr. Bentham's advertisement at last.
I depend on you, dear Sir, for procuring me his book l the
instant it is possible to have it Pray make my compliments
to all that good family.
I am enraged, and almost in despair, at Pearson2 the
glass-painter, he is so idle and dissolute — he has done very
little of the window, though what he has done is glorious,
and approaches very nearly to Price.
My last volume of Painters begins to be printed this week,
but, as the plates are not begun, I doubt it will be long
before the whole is ready. I mentioned to you in my last
Thursday's letter a hint about Bannerman the engraver.
Adieu !
Dear Sir,
Yours most sincerely,
HOR. WALPOLE.
LETTER 1328. — * The History of Ely Cathedral
• James Pear8on ; d. 1805.
1770] To Sir Horace Mann 423
1329. To SIR HOEACE MANN.
Arlington Street, Nov. 26, 1770.
I THIS minute receive your letter of October 27th, and do
not wonder you are impatient to hear what the Spanish
courier says. He arrived this day sevennight j and, had his
message been definite, or published, you should have heard
immediately ; but, whatever he brought, it was left to the
Spanish Ambassador to traffic with, and make the best
market he could of it. At first, the stocks, who are our
most knowing politicians, opined that the answer was
pacific, and they held their heads very high. On Saturday
last, their hearts sunk into their breeches ; all officers were
ordered to their posts. I am just come from the King's
levee, where Lord Howe kissed hands for being appointed
commander in the Mediterranean. He is no trifler. The
army is to be augmented. Still I will hope we shall remain
in peace, for, whether we beat or are beaten, we always
contrive to make a shameful treaty. At home, the ministers
are victorious. Motions were made in both Houses last
Thursday for the papers relating to Falkland's Island, which
were refused in the Lords by 61 to 25 ; in the Commons, by
225 to 101. Lord Chatham, who is Almanzor himself, and
kicks and cuffs friend and enemy, abused the ministers,
opposition, Wilkes, and the City. Lord Temple did not
appear, nor any of Grenville's friends. Wilkes has his own
civil wars in his own party, and by the consequence of
fractions in small numbers, both he and his rival-mates
are become ridiculous. This is the present state at home.
We have neither Chancellor nor Keeper yet : Bathurst l is
now talked of.
LETTBB 1329.— 1 Hon. Henry Ba- Jan. 23, 1771, when he was made a
thurst, appointed Lord Chancellor on peer as Baron Apsley.
424 To Sir Horace Mann [1770
I am much obliged to you for the detail of Le Fevre's
medicine; but I am perfectly recovered without it, and
strong in opinion against it. I am persuaded he is a quack,
and his nostrum dangerous. By quack I mean impostor,
not in opposition to, but in common with physicians. He
has been here and carried off five thousand pounds, at a
hundred pounds per patient2. You must know, I do not
believe the gout to be curable. In the next place, I am
sure he cannot give any proof of its being a humour, and if
it is, it is not a single fund of humours, but probably a mass
thrown off at periods by the constitution. It is doubtful
whether wind is not the essence of gout ; it certainly has
much to do with it. There must have been longer experience
of this new remedy's effects before I would try it upon
myself. I have known many nostrums stop every cranny
into which the gout is used to crowd itself, and the conse-
quence has always been an explosion. I am not desperate,
nor like the adage, Ml or cure. But my great objection of
all is, that the medicine begins with giving the gout. Thank
it ; I have not the disorder above once in two years, and it
would be bad economy to bring on what I may never live to
have. In short, the bootikins, water, and lemonade, have
restored me so completely, that I have not the smallest
symptom left of lameness or weakness ; and Mr. Chute, who
has a much deeper mine of gout in his frame than I have,
finds his fits exceedingly diminished by the constant use of
the bootikins, and walks better than he did ten years ago.
Tuesday.
I must send away my letter without being able to tell
you whether it is war or peace. You shall hear again as
soon as either is determined. Adieu.
2 His medicine proved extremely noxious. Walpole.
mo] To Sir Horace Mann 425
1330. To SIR HORACE MANN.
Arlington Street, Dec. 18, 1770.
THE Peace is an errant Will-o'-wisp, a Jack-o'-lanthorn,
that dances before one's eyes, and one cannot set one's foot
upon it. A new vapour has started up before it, which,
as I am no natural philosopher, I cannot tell whether it
will bring us nearer to the meteor, or prevent our reaching
it. The day before yesterday Lord Weymouth resigned
the Seals. If you ask why ? so does everybody ; and I do
not hear that anybody has received an answer. Lord
Sandwich succeeds him, but takes the Northern Province,
not yours, as you would wish. However, Lord Eochford
does, and I flatter myself you are very well with him too.
Recent as this event is, it is almost forgotten in a duel
that happened yesterday between Lord George Germaine l
and a Governor Johnstone 2, the latter of which abused
the former grossly last Friday in the House of Commons.
Lord George behaved with the utmost coolness and intrepidity.
Each fired two pistols, and Lord George's first was shattered
in his hand by Johnstone's fire, but neither were hurt.
However, whatever Lord George Sackville was, Lord George
Germaine is a hero !
If we have nothing else to do after the holidays we are
to amuse ourselves with worrying Lord Mansfield, who
between irregularities in his court, timidity, and want of
judgement, has lowered himself to be the object of hatred
to many, and of contempt to everybody. I do not think
that he could re-establish himself if he was to fight Governor
Johnstone.
LETTER 1330. — ' Lord George Sack- Johnstone, third Baronet, of Wester-
ville took the name of Germain on hall; M.P.forCockermonth ; Gover-
succeeding to the estate of Lady nor of West Florida, 1763-87 ; Com-
Elizabeth Germain in 1769. missioner to treat with America,
a Commodore George Johnstone 1778.
(1730-1787), fourth son of Sir James
426 To the Rev. William Cole [1770
Last week there was a great uproar in the House of
Lords3, followed by a secession of Lord Chatham and a
dozen of the opposition. They returned next day very
quietly. Part of the House of Commons, whose members
the majority had turned out, attempted to convert this riot
into a quarrel between the Houses, but could make nothing
of it 4. M. de Guines B, the new French Ambassador, stares
and wonders what all these things mean : some fresh
hurly burly arrives before he has got halfway into a com-
prehension of the preceding. He is extremely civil and
attentive to please — I do not know whether he will have
time to succeed.
This is but a mezzanine letter ; something, if you will
allow me to pun, between two stories. I don't know what
is to be built up or pulled down, for I am no architect,
but only sketch out what I see. Our fabrics, indeed, of
late years, seem to be erected with cards, easily raised,
and as easily demolished. As we have used all our packs
round and round, we can but have some of the old ones
again. Adieu !
1331. To THE EEV. WILLIAM COLE.
DEAR SlK, Arlington Street, Dec. 20, 1770.
I am very zealous, as you know, for the work, but I
agree with you in expecting very little success from the
8 On Deo. 10, when the Duke of humour the Commons, joined in the
Manchester made a motion calling blame, but dissuaded the motion. It
attention to the defenceless state of was battled, however, for two hours ;
the nation. and some Lords who had come
4 ' The members of the Commons thither were turned out : but the
went down in a fury to their own motion was rejected by the influence
House. . . . George Onslow . . . made of the courtiers.' (Memoirs of George
complaint of the injurious manner III, ed. 1894, vol. iv. p. 146.)
in which they had been thrust out by 5 Adrien Louis de Bonnieres (1 735-
force, and moved for a Committee to 1806), Comte, afterwards Due, de
inspect the journals of the Lords on Guinea,
that occasion. . . . Lord North, to
mo] To tlie Bev. William Cole 427
plan 1. Activity is the best implement in such undertakings>
and that seems to be wanting ; and, without that, it were
vain to think of who would be at the expense. I do not
know whether it were not best that Mr. Essex should publish
his remarks as simply as he can. For my own part, I can
do no more thau I have done, sketch out the plan. I grow
too old, and am grown too indolent, to engage in any more
works, nor have I time. I wish to finish some things
I have by me, and to have done. The last volume of my
Anecdotes, of which I was tired, is completed, and with
them I shall take my leave of publications. The last years
of one's life are fit for nothing but idleness and quiet, and
I am as indifferent to fame as to politics.
I can be of as little use to Mr. Granger in recommending
him to the Antiquarian Society. I dropped my attendance
there four or five years ago, from being sick of their igno-
rance and stupidity, and have not been three times amongst
them since. They have chosen to expose their dullness to
the world, and crowned it with Dean Milles's2 nonsense.
I have written a little answer to the last, which you shall
see, and there wash my hands of them.
To say the truth, I have no very sanguine expectation
about the Ely window. The glass-painter, though admir-
able, proves a very idle worthless fellow, and has yet
scarce done anything of consequence. I gave Dr. Nichols
notice of his character, but found him apprised of it ; the
Doctor, however, does not despair, but pursues him warmly.
I wish it may succeed !
If you go over to Cambridge, be so good as to ask Mr.
Gray when he proposes being in town : he talked of last
LETTKB 1331.-J For a History of Account for 1483, the Coronation of
Gothic Architecture. Richard III, answered by Horace
2 Jeremiah Milles (1714-1784), Walpole in A Reply to the Observa-
Dean of Exeter, President of the tions of Dean MiUes on the Wardrobe
Society of Antiquaries. He published Account.
in 1770 Observations on the Wardrobe
428 To the Eev. William Cole [1770
month. I must beg you, too, to thank Mr. Tyson for his
last letter. I can say no more to the plan than I have said.
If he and Mr. Essex should like to come to town, I shall be
very willing to talk it over with them, but I can by no
means think of engaging in any part of the composition.
These holidays I hope to have time to range my drawings,
and give Bannerman some employment towards my book —
but I am in no hurry to have it appear, as it speaks of
times so recent ; for though I have been very tender of not
hurting any living relations of the artists, the latter were
in general so indifferent, that I doubt their families will not
be very well content with the coldness of the praises I have
been able to bestow. This reason, with my unwillingness
to finish the work, and the long interval between the com-
position of this and the other volumes, have, I doubt, made
the greatest part a very indifferent performance. An author,
like other mechanics, never does well when he is tired of
his profession.
I have been told that, besides Mr. Tyson, there are two
other gentlemen engravers at Cambridge. I think their
names are Sharp or Show, and Cobbe, but I am not at all
sure of either. I should be glad, however, if I could procure
any of their portraits — and I do not forget that I am already
in your debt. Boydell s is going to recommence a suite of
Illustrious Heads, and I am to give him a list of indubitable
portraits of remarkable persons that have never been en-
graved ; but I have protested against his receiving two sorts ;
the one, any old head of a family, when the person was
moderately considerable ; the other, spurious or doubtful
heads ; both sorts apt to be sent in by families who wish
to crowd their own names into the work ; as was the case
more than once in Houbraken's set, and of which honest
8 John Boydell (1719-1804), print publisher; elected Alderman in 1782;
Lord Mayor, 1790.
1770] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 429
Vertue often complained to me. The Duke of Buckingham,
Carr, Earl of Somerset, and Thurloe*, in that list, are
absolutely not genuine— the first is John Digby, Earl of
Bristol
I am, dear Sir,
Yours most sincerely,
HOK. WALPOLE.
1332. To THE HON. HENEY SEYMOUB CONWAY.
Arlington Street, Christmas Day.
IF poplar pines l ever grow, it must be in such a soaking
season as this. I wish you would send half a dozen by
some Henley barge to meet me next Saturday at Strawberry
Hill, that they may be as tall as the Monument by next
summer. My cascades give themselves the airs of cataracts,
and Mrs. Clive looks like the sun rising out of the ocean.
Poor Mr. Eaftor is tired to death of their solitude ; and, as his
passion is walking, he talks with rapture of the brave rows
of lamps all along the street, just as I used formerly to
think no trees beautiful without lamps to them, like those
at Vauxhall.
As I came to town but to dinner, and have not seen
a soul, I do not know whether there is any news. I am
just going to the Princess 2, where I shall hear all there is.
I went to King Arthur3 on Saturday, and was tired to death,
both of the nonsense of the piece and the execrable per-
formance, the singers being still worse than the actors. The
scenes are little better (though Garrick boasts of rivalling
* John Thurloe (1616-1668), Secre- from Turin by the Earl of Eoohford,
tary of State ; his portrait was en- and planted by General Conway.
graved by Vertue. 2 The late Princess Amelia. Wai-
LETTER 1382. — l According to Miss pole,
Berry the first poplar pine (or Lorn- 3 An opera by Dryden, altered by
bardy poplar) raised in England was Garrick.
at Park Place, from a cutting brought
430 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [1770
the French Opera), except a pretty bridge, and a Gothic
church with windows of painted glass. This scene, which
should be a barbarous temple of Woden, is a perfect
cathedral, and the devil officiates at a kind of high mass !
I never saw greater absurdities. Adieu !
1333. To THE HON. HENKY SEYMOUB CONWAY.
Arlington Street, Dec. 29, 1770.
THE trees * came safe : I thank you for them : they are
gone to Strawberry, and I am going to plant them. This
paragraph would not call for a letter, but I have news for
you of importance enough to dignify a dispatch. The Due
de Choiseul is fallen ! The express from Lord Harcourt 2
arrived yesterday morning ; the event happened last Monday
night, and the courier set out so immediately, that not
many particulars are yet known. The Duke was allowed
but three hours to prepare himself, and ordered to retire
to his seat at Chanteloup : but some letters say, ' il ira plus
loin.' The Due de Praslin is banished, too, and Chatelet
is forbidden to visit Choiseul. Chatelet was to have had
the Marine ; and I am sure is no loss to us. The Chevalier
de Muy is made Secretary of State pour la guerre ; and it
is concluded that the Due d'Aiguillon is Prime Minister, but
was not named so in the first hurry. There ! there is a
revolution ! there is a new scene opened ! Will it advance
the war ? Will it make peace ? These are the questions
all mankind is asking. This whale has swallowed up all
gudgeon-questions. Lord Harcourt writes, that the d'Aiguil-
lonists had officiously taken opportunities of assuring him,
that if they prevailed it would be peace ; but in this country
we know that opponents turned ministers can change their
LETTKB 1333. — * The Lombardy 2 Then Embassador at Paris. Wal-
poplars. Walpole. pole.
177 o] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 431
language. It is added, that the morning of ChoiseuTs
banishment, the King said to him, 'Monsieur, je vous ai
dit que je ne voulois point la guerre.' Yet how does this
agree with Frances's3 eager protestations that Choiseul's
fate depended on preserving the peace ? How does it agree
with the Comptroller-General's offer of finding funds for
the war, and of Choiseul's proving he could not? — But
how reconcile half the politics one hears ? De Guisnes and
Frances sent their excuses to the Duchess of Argyle last
night ; and I suppose the Spaniards, too ; for none of them
were there. — Well ! I shall let all this bustle cool for two
days ; for what Englishman does not sacrifice anything to
go his Saturday out of town ? And yet I am very much
interested in this event ; I feel much for Madame de Choiseul,
though nothing for her Corskan husband ; but I am in the
utmost anxiety for my dear old friend *, who passed every
evening with the Duchess, and was thence in great credit ;
and what is worse, though nobody, I think, can be savage
enough to take away her pension, she may find great
difficulty to get it paid — and then her poor heart is so good
and warm, that this blow on her friends, at her great age,
may kill her. I have had no letter, nor had last post —
whether it was stopped, or whether she apprehended the
event, as I imagine — for everybody observed, on Tuesday
night, at your brother's, that Frances could not open his
mouth. In short, I am most seriously alarmed about her.
You have seen in the papers the designed arrangements
in the law. They now say there is some hitch ; but I suppose
it turns on some demands, and so will be got over by their
being granted.
Mr. Mason, the bard, gave me yesterday the enclosed
memorial, and begged I would recommend it to you. It is
8 Then the Charge des Affaires from * Madame la Marquise du Deffand.
the French court in London. Walpole. Walpole.
432 To Sir Horace Mann [1770
in favour of a very ingenious painter. Adieu ! the sun
shines brightly; but it is one o'clock, and it will be set
before I get to Twickenham. Yours ever,
HOR. WALPOLE.
1334. To SIR HOEACE MANN.
Strawberry Hill, Saturday evening, Dec. 29, 1770.
WE are alarmed, or very glad, we don't know which.
The Duke de Choiseul is fallen ! but we cannot tell yet
whether the mood of his successors will be peaceable or
martial. The news arrived yesterday morning, and the
event happened but last Monday evening. He was allowed
but three hours to prepare for his journey, and ordered to
retire to his seat at Chanteloup ; but there are letters that
say, 'qu'il ira plus loin.' The Duke de Praslin is banished
too — a disagreeable man ; but his fate is a little hard, for
he was just going to resign the Marine to Chatelet, who, by
the way, is forbidden to visit Choiseul. I shall shed no
tears for Chatelet, the most peevish and insolent of men,
our bitter enemy, and whom M. de Choiseul may thank in
some measure for his fall ; for I believe while Chatelet was
here, he drew the Spaniards into the attack of Falkland's
Island. Choiseul's own conduct seems to have been not
a little equivocal. His friends maintained that his existence
as a minister depended on his preventing a war, and he
certainly confuted the Comptroller-General's plan of raising
supplies for it. Yet, it is now said, that on the very
morning of the Duke's disgrace, the King reproached him,
and said, ; Monsieur, je vous avois dit, que je ne voulois pas
la guerre ' ; and the Duke d'Aiguillon's friends have officiously
whispered, that if Choiseul was out it would certainly be
peace ; but did not Lord Chatham, immediately before he
was minister, protest not half a man should be sent to
mo] To Sir Horace Mann 433
Germany, and yet, were not all our men and all our money
sent thither ? The Chevalier de Muy is made Secretary at
War, and it is supposed Monsieur d'Aiguillon is, or will be,
the minister.
Thus Abishag 1 has strangled an administration that had
lasted fourteen years. I am sincerely grieved for the
Duchess de Choiseul, the most perfect being I know of
either sex. I cannot possibly feel for her husband : Corsica
is engraved in my memory, as I believe it is on your heart.
His cruelties there, I should think, would not cheer his
solitude or prison. In the meantime, desolation and con-
fusion reign all over France. They are almost bankrupts,
and quite famished. The Parliament of Paris has quitted
its functions, and the other tribunals threaten to follow the
example. Some people say that Maupeou, the Chancellor,
told the King that they were supported underhand by
Choiseul, and must submit if he was removed. The sug-
gestion is specious at least, as the object of their antipathy
is the Duke d'Aiguillon. If the latter should think a war
a good diversion to their enterprises, I should not be
surprised if they went on, especially if a bankruptcy follows
famine. The new minister and the Chancellor are in
general execration. On the latter's lately obtaining the
Cordon Bleu, this epigram appeared: —
Ce tyran de la France, gui cherche a mettre tout en feu,
Merite un cordon, maisjepense gue ce n'estpas le cordon lieu.
We shall see how Spain likes the fall of the author of the
Family Compact. There is an Empress2 will not be pleased
with it, but it is not the Eussian Empress; and much less
the Turks, who are as little obliged to that bold man's
intrigues as the poor Corsicans. How can one regret such
a general boute-feu ?
LETTER 1334. — 1 Madame du BarrL Walpole,
2 The Empress Maria Theresa.
SVALPOLE. VII
434 To Sir Horace Mann [1771
Perhaps our situation is not very stable neither. The
world, who are ignorant of Lord Weymouth's motives,
suspect a secret intelligence with Lord Chatham. Oh, let
us have peace abroad before we quarrel any more at home !
Judge Bathurst is to be Lord Keeper, with many other
arrangements in the law ; but as you neither know the
persons, nor I care about them, I shall not fill my paper
with the catalogue, but reserve the rest of my letter for
Tuesday, when I shall be in town. No Englishman, you
know, will sacrifice his Saturday and Sunday. I have so
little to do with all these matters, that I came hither this
morning, and left this new chaos to arrange itself as it
pleases. It certainly is an era, and may be an extensive
one ; not very honourable to old King Capet 3, whatever it
may be to the intrigues of his new ministers. The Jesuits
will not be without hopes. They have a friend 4 that made
mischief ante Helenam.
Jan. 1, 1771.
I hope the new year will end as quietly as it begins, for
I have not a syllable to tell you. No letters are come from
France since Friday morning, and this is Tuesday noon.
As we had full time to reason — in the dark — the general
persuasion is, that the French ^Revolution will produce
peace — I mean in Europe — not amongst themselves.
Probably I have been sending you little but what you will
have heard long before you receive my letter; but no
matter; if we did not chat about our neighbour Kings,
I don't know how we should keep up our correspondence,
for we are better acquainted with King Louis, King Carlos,
and Empresses Catharine and Teresa, than you with the
English that I live amongst, or I with your Florentines.
Adieu !
3 Louis XV. Walpqle. vernor of the late Dauphin, and a
4 The Due de la Vauguyon, go- protector of the Jesuits,
1771] To the Rev. William Cole 435
1335. To THE EEV. WILLIAM COLE.
Arlington Street, Jan. 10, 1771.
As I am acquainted with Mr. Paul Sandby !, the brother
of the architect, I asked him if there was a design, as I had
heard, of making a print or prints of King's College Chapel,
by the King's order ? He answered directly, by no means.
His brother made a general sketch of the Chapel for the use
of the Lectures he reads on Architecture at the Eoyal
Academy. Thus, dear Sir, Mr. Essex may be perfectly easy
that there is no intention of interfering with his work.
I then mentioned to Mr. Sandby Mr. Essex's plan, which
he much approved, but said the plates would cost a great
sum. The King, he thought, would be inclined to patronize
the work ; but I own I do not know how to get it laid
before him. His own artists would probably discourage
any scheme that might entrench on their own advantages.
Mr. Thomas Sandby, the architect, is the only one of them
I am acquainted with, and Mr. Essex must think whether
he would like to let him into any participation of the work.
If I can get any other person to mention it to his Majesty,
I will; but you know me, and that I have always kept
clear of connections with courts and ministers, and have
no interest with either ; and perhaps my recommendation
might do as much hurt as good, especially as the artists in
favour might be jealous of one who understands a little of
their professions, and is apt to say what he thinks. In
truth, there is another danger, which is that they might
not assist Mr. Essex without views of profiting of his
labours. I am slightly acquainted with Mr. Chambers, the
" LETTER 1335. — 1 Paul Sandby Sandby (1721-1798), Professor of Ar-
(1726-1809), water-colour painter and chitecture to the Eoyal Academy,
engraver. His brother was Thomas
436 To the Rev. William Cole [mi
architect, and have a good opinion of him ; if Mr. Essex
approves my communicating his plan to him or Mr. Sandby,
I should think it more likely to succeed by their inter-
vention, than by any lord of the court, for, at last, the
King would certainly take the opinion of his artists. When
you have talked this over with Mr. Essex, let me know the
result. Till he has determined, there can be no use in
Mr. Essex coming to town. I am much obliged to you, as
I am continually, for the trouble you have taken to procure
me Mr. Orde's, Mr. Topham's, and Mr. Sharpe's prints a, and
shall be very thankful for them. As to Koman antiquities,
I do not collect prints of them, having engaged in too many
other branches already.
Mr. Gray will bring down some of my drawings to
Bannerman, and when you go over to Cambridge, I will
beg you now and then to supervise him. For Mr. Bentham's
book, I rather despair of it ; and should it ever appear, he
will have made people expect it too long, which will be of
no service to it, though I do not doubt of its merit.
Mr. Gray will show you my answer to Dr. Milles.
I am, dear Sir,
Your ever obliged
Humble servant,
HOK. WALPOLE.
2 Perhaps portraits of Craven Ord Christi) College, Cambridge, with all
(1756-1882), John Topham (1746- of whom Cole was likely to be ac-
1803), antiquaries, and the Rev. quainted.
John Sharpe of Bene't (or Corpus
END OF VOL. VII
Live Music Archive
Librivox Free Audio
Metropolitan Museum
Cleveland Museum of Art
Internet Arcade
Console Living Room
Books to Borrow
Open Library
TV News
Understanding 9/11