Lady Sophia Thomas,(754) has begged me to trouble you with a small commission. It is to send me for her twelve little bottles of “le Baume de Vie, compos`e par le Sieur Lievre, apoticaire distillateur du Roi.” If George Selwyn or Lord March are not set out, they would bring it with pleasure, especially as she lives at the Duke of Queensberry’s.
We have not a new book, play, intrigue, marriage, elopement, or quarrel; in short, we are very dull. For politics, unless the ministers wantonly thrust their hands into some fire, I think there will not even be a smoke. I am glad of it, for my heart is set on my journey to Paris, and I hate every thing that stops me. Lord Byron’s foolish trial is likely to protract the session a little; but unless there is any particular business, I shall not stay for a puppet-show. Indeed, I can defend my staying here by nothing but my ties to your brother. My health, I am sure, would be better in another climate in winter. Long days in the House kill me, and weary me into the bargain. The individuals of each party are alike indifferent to me; nor can I at this time of day grow to love men whom I have laughed at all my lifetime–no, I cannot alter;–Charles Yorke or Charles Townshend are alike to me, whether ministers or patriots. Men do not change in my eyes, because they quit a black livery for a white one. When one has seen the whole scene shifted round and round so often, one only smiles, whoever is the present Polonius or the grave digger, whether they jeer the Prince, or flatter his frenzy.
Thursday night, 14th.
The new assembly-room at Almack’s was opened the night before last, and they say is very magnificent, but it was empty; half the town is ill With colds, and many were afraid to go, as the house is scarcely built yet. Almack advertised that it was built with hot brick and boiling water–think what a rage there must be for public places, If this notice, instead of terrifying, could draw any body thither. They tell me the ceilings were dropping with wet–but can you believe me, when I assure you the Duke of Cumberland was there?–Nay, had had a levee in the morning, and went to the Opera before the assembly! There is a vast flight of steps, and he was forced to rest two or three times. If he dies of it–and how should he not?–it will sound very silly when Hercules or Theseus ask him what he died of, to reply, “I caught my death on a damp staircase at a new club-room.”
Williams, the reprinter of the North Briton, stood in the pillory to-day in Palace-yard. He went in a hackney-coach, the number of which was 45. The mob erected a gallows opposite to him, on which they hung a boot(755) with a bonnet of straw. Then a collection was made for Williams, which amounted to near 200 pounds.(756) In short, every event informs the administration how thoroughly they are detested, and that they have not a friend whom they do not buy. Who can wonder, when every man of virtue is proscribed, and they have neither parts nor characters to impose even upon the mob! think to what a government is sunk, when a Secretary of State is called in Parliament to his face “the most profligate sad dog in the kingdom,”(757) and not a man can open his lips in his defence. Sure power must have some strange unknown charm, when it can compensate for such contempt! I see many who triumph in these bitter pills which the ministry are so often forced to swallow; I own I do not; it is more mortifying to me to reflect how great and respectable we were three years ago, than satisfactory to see those insulted who have brought such shame upon us. ‘Tis moor amends to national honour to know, that if a printer is set in the pillory, his country wishes it was my Lord This, or Mr. That. They will be gathered to the Oxfords, and Bolingbrokes, and ignominious(758) of former days; but the wound they have inflicted is perhaps indelible. That goes to my heart, who had felt all the Roman pride of being one of the first nations upon earth!–Good night!–I will go to bed, and dream of Kings drawn in triumph; and then I will go to paris, and dream I am proconsul there; pray, take care not to let me be wakened with an account of an invasion having taken place from Dunkirk!(759) Yours ever, H. W.
(749) The resolutions which were the foundation of the famous Stamp-act.-E.
(750) The substance of this petition, and the grave answer which the King was advised to give to such a ludicrous appeal, are preserved in the Gentleman’s Magazine for 1765, p. 95; where also we learn that Mr. Walpole’s idea of the Carpenters’ petition was put in practice, and his Majesty was humbly entreated to wear a wooden leg himself, and to enjoin all his servants to do the same. It may, therefore, be presumed that this jeu d’esprit was from the pen of Mr. Walpole.-C.
(751) Lady Hirriot Wentworth, sister of the last Lord Strafford, wife of Henry Vernon, Esq., and mother of Lady Grosvenor, whose intrigue with the Duke of Cumberland made so much noise.-C.
(752) Thomas Villers, second son of Lord Jersey, first Lord Hyde of his family: his lady was Charlotte, daughter of Lady Jane Hyde, wife of William Earl of Essex, daughter of Henry, second Earl of clarendon, and sister of the Duchess of Queensberry.-C.
(753) George, fifteenth Lord Abergavenny; and his lady, Henrieta Pelham, sister of the first Earl of Chichester: she died in 1768.-E.
(754) Lady Sophia Keppel, daughter of the first Earl of Albemarle, and wife of Colonel Thomas.-E.
(755) A Jack-boot, in allusion to the Christian name and title of Lord Bute.-C.
(756) In a blue purse trimmed with orange, the colour of the revolution, in opposition to the Stuart.-C.
(757) ant`e, p. 370, letter 239.
(758) We might be surprised at finding a person of Mr. Walpole’s taste and judgment, describing Harley and St. John as ignominious, if we did not recollect, that during their administration his father had been sent to the Tower, and expelled the House of commons for alleged official corruptions. It were to be wished that Mr. Walpole’s personal prejudices could always be traced to so amiable a source.-C.
(759) The demolition of Dunkirk was one of the articles of the late treaty of peace, on which discussions were still depending.-C.
Letter 241 To George Montagu, Esq.
Arlington Street, Feb. 19, 1765. (page 376)
Your health and spirits and youth delight me; yet I think you make but a bad use of them, when you destine them to a triste house in a country solitude. If you were condemned to retirement, It would be fortunate to have spirits to support it; but great vivacity is not a cause for making it one’s option.
Why waste your sweetness on the desert air! at least, why bestow so little of your cheerfulness on your friends? I do not wish you to parade your rubicundity and gray hairs through the mobs and assemblies of London; I should think you bestowed them as ill as on Greatworth; but you might find a few rational creatures here, who are heartily tired of what are called our pleasures, and who would be glad to have you in their chimney-corner. There you might have found me any time this fortnight; I have been dying of the worst and longest cold I ever had in my days, and have been blooded, and taken James’s powder to no purpose. I look almost like the skeleton that Frederick found in the oratory;(760) my only comfort was, that I should have owed my death to the long day in the House of Commons, and have perished with Our liberties; but I think I am getting the better of my martyrdom, and shall live to See you; nay, I shall not be gone to Paris. As I design that journey for the term of my figuring in the world, I would fain wind up my politics too, and quit all public ties together. As I am not old yet, and have an excellent though delicate constitution, I may promise myself some agreeable years, if I could detach myself from all connexions, but with a very few persons that I value. Oh, with what joy I could bid adieu to loving and hating; to crowds, public places, great dinners, visits; and above all, to the House of Commons; but pray mind when I retire, it shall only be to London and Strawberry Hill–in London one can live as one will, and at Strawberry I will live as I will. Apropos, my good old tenant Franklin is dead, and I am in possession of his cottage, which will be a delightfully additional plaything at Strawberry. I shall be violently tempted to stick in a few cypresses and lilacs there before I go to Paris. I don’t know a jot of news: I have been a perfect hermit this fortnight, and buried in Runic poetry and Danish wars. In short, I have been deep in a late history of Denmark, written by one Mallet, a Frenchman,(761) a sensible man, but I cannot say he has the art of making a very tiresome subject agreeable. There are six volumes, and I am stuck fast in the fourth.
Lord Byron’s trial I hear is to be in May. If you are curious about it, I can secure you a ticket for Lord Lincoln’s gallery. The Antiquarian Society have got Goody Carlisle(762) for their president, and I suppose she will sit upon a Saxon chalkstone till the return of King Arthur. Adieu!
(760) An allusion to the scene in the last chapter of his Castle of Otranto.- E.
(761) Paul Henry Mallet was born at Geneva in 1731, and was for some time professor of history in his native city. He afterwards became professor royal of the belles lettres at Copenhagen. The introduction to his History of Denmark was afterwards translated by Dr. Percy, under the title of Northern Antiquities, including the Edda.-E.
(762) Dr. Charles Lyttelton, Bishop of Carlisle. See ant`e, p. 207, letter 149. On his death, in 1768, he made a very valuable bequest of manuscripts and printed books to the Society.-E.
Letter 242 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, Feb. 28, 1765. (page 377)
Dear sir,
As you do not deal with newspapers, nor trouble Yourselves with occurrences of modern times, you may perhaps conclude from what I have told you, and from my silence, that I am in France. This will tell you that I am not; though I have been long thinking of it, and still intend it, though not exactly yet. My silence I must lay on this uncertainty, and from having been much out of order above a month with a very bad cold and cough, for which I am come hither to try change of air. Your brother Apthorpe, who was so good as to call upon me about a fortnight ago in town, found me too hoarse to speak to him. We both asked one another the same question–news of you?
I have lately had an accession to my territory here, by the death of good old Franklin, to whom I had given for his life the lease of the cottage and garden cross the road. Besides a little pleasure in planting, and in crowding it with flowers, I intend to make, what I am sure you are antiquarian enough to approve, a bower, though your friends the abbots did not indulge in such retreats, at least not under that appellation: but though we love the same ages, you must excuse worldly me for preferring the romantic scenes of antiquity. If you will tell me how to send it, and are partial enough to me to read a profane work in the style of former centuries, I shall convey to you a little story-book, which I published some time ago, though not boldly with my own name: but it has succeeded so well, that I do not any longer entirely keep the secret. Does the title, The Castle of Otranto(763) tempt you? I shall be glad to hear you are well and happy.
(763) In the first edition of this work, of which but very few copies were printed, the title ran thus:–“The Castle of Otranto, a Story, translated by William Marshal, Gent., from the original Italian of onuphrio Muralto, Canon of the church of St. Nicholas at Otranto. London: printed for Thomas Lownds, in Fleet Street, 1765.”-E.
Letter 243 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, March 9, 1765. (page 378)
Dear sir,
I had time to write but a short note with the Castle of Otranto, as your messenger called on me at four o’clock, as I was going to go abroad. Your partiality to me and Strawberry have, I hope, inclined you to excuse the wildness of the story. You will even have found some traits to put you in mind of this place.(764)–When you read of the Picture quitting its panel,(765) did not you recollect the portrait of Lord Falkland, all in white, in my gallery? Shall I even confess to you, what was the origin of this romance! I waked one morning, in the beginning of last June, from a dream, of which, all I could recover was, that I had thought myself in an ancient castle, (a very natural dream for a head filled like mine with Gothic story,) and that on the uppermost bannister of a great staircase I saw a gigantic hand in armour. In the evening I sat down, and began to write, without knowing in the least what I intended to say or relate. The work grew on my hands, and I grew fond of it–add, that. I was very glad to think of any thing, rather than politics. In short, I was so engrossed with my tale, which I completed in less than two months, that one evening, I wrote from the time I had drunk my tea, about six o’clock, till after one in the morning when my hand and fingers were so weary, that I- could not hold my pen to finish the sentence, but left Matilda and Isabella talking, in the middle of a paragraph. You will laugh at my earnestness; but if I have amused you by retracing with any fidelity the manners of ancient days, I am content, and give you leave to think me as idle as you please.
You are, as you have long been to me, exceedingly kind, and I should, with great satisfaction, embrace your offer of visiting the solitude of Bleckely, though my cold is in a manner gone, and my cough quite, if I was at liberty: but as I am preparing for my French journey, and have forty businesses upon my hands, and can only now and then purloin a day, or half a day, to come hither. You know I am not cordially disposed to your French journey, which is much more serious, as it is to be much more lasting. However, though I may suffer by your absence, I would not dissuade what may suit your inclination and circumstances. One thing, however, has struck me, which I must mention, though it would depend on a circumstance, that would give me the most real concern. It was suggested to me by that real fondness I have for your MSS. for your kindness about which I feel the utmost gratitude. You would not, I think, leave them behind you: and are you aware of the danger you would run, If, you settled entirely in France? Do You know that the King of France is heir to all strangers who die in his dominions, by what they call the Droit d’Aubaine. Sometimes by great interest and favour, persons have obtained a remission of this right in their lifetime: and yet that, even that, has not secured their effects from being embezzled. Old Lady Sandwich(766) had obtained this remission, and yet, though she left every thing to the present lord, her grandson, a man for whose rank one should have thought they would have had regard, the King’s officers forced themselves into her house, after her death, and plundered. You see, if you go, I shall expect to have your MSS. deposited with me. Seriously, you must leave them in safe custody behind you.
Lord Essex’s trial is printed with the State Trials. In return for your obliging offer, I can acquaint you with a delightful publication of this winter, a Collection of Old Ballads and Poetry, in three volumes, many from Pepys’s Collection at Cambridge.(767) There were three such published between thirty and forty years ago, but very carelessly, and wanting many in this set: indeed, there were others, a looser sort,(768) which the present editor, who is a clergyman, thought it decent to omit.
When you go into Cheshire, and upon your ramble, may I trouble you with a commission? but about which you must promise me not to go a Step Out of your way. Mr. Bateman has got a cloister at Old Windsor, furnished with ancient wooden chairs, most of them triangular, but all of various patterns, and carved and turned in the most uncouth and whimsical forms. He picked them up one by one, for two, three, five, or six shillings apiece from different farmhouses in Herefordshire. I have long envied and coveted them. There may be such in poor cottages, in so neighbouring a county as Cheshire. I should not grudge any expense for purchase or carriage; and should be glad even of a couple such for my cloister here. When you are copying inscriptions in a churchyard in any village, think of me, and step into the first cottage you see–but don’t take further trouble than that.
I long to know what your bundle of manuscripts from Cheshire contains.
My bower is determined, but not at all what it is to be. Though I write romances, I cannot tell how to build all that belongs to them. Madame Danois, in the Fairy Tales, used to tapestry them with jonquils; but as that furniture will not last above a fortnight in the year, I shall prefer something more huckaback. I have decided that the outside shall be of treillage, which, however, I shall not commence, till I have again seen some of old Louis’s old-fashioned Galanteries at Versailles. Rosamond’s bower, you, and I, and Tom Hearne know, was a labyrinth:(769) but as my territory will admit of a very short clew, I lay aside all thoughts of a mazy habitation: though a bower is very different from an arbour, and must have more chambers than one. In short, I both know, and don’t know, what it should be. I am almost afraid I must go and read Spenser, and wade through his allegories, and drawling stanzas, to get at a picture. But, good night! you see how one gossips, when one is alone, and at quiet on one’s own dunghill!–Well! it may be trifling; yet it is such trifling as Ambition never is happy enough to know! Ambition orders palaces, but it is Content that chats for a page or two over a bower. Yours ever.
(764) “As, in his model of a Gothic modern mansion, Mr. Walpole had studiously endeavoured to fit to the purpose of modern convenience or luxury the rich, varied, and complicated tracery and carving of the ancient cathedral, so, in the Castle of Otranto, it was his object to unite the marvellous turn of incident and imposing tone of chivalry exhibited in the ancient romance, with that accurate display of human character and contrast of feelings and passions, which is, or ought to be, delineated in the modern novel.” Sir Walter Scott; Prose Works, vol. iii. p. 307.-E.
(765) The forms of the grim knight and pictured saint Look living in the moon; and as you turn Backward and forward, to the echoes faint Of your own footsteps–voices from the urn Appear to wake, and shadows wild and quaint Start from the frames which fence their aspects stern, As if to ask how you can dare to keep
A vigil there, where all but death should sleep.” Don Juan, c. xvi. st. 18.-E.
(766) Elizabeth, second daughter of John Wilmot Earl of Rochester, and sister and co-heiress of Charles third Earl, and widow of Edward Montagu third Earl of Sandwich, who died 20th of October, 1729.-E.
(767) Edited by the Rev. Thomas Percy, fellow of St. John’s College, Oxford, and afterwards Bishop of Dromore. “The reviver of minstrel poetry in Scotland was the venerable Bishop of Dromore, who, in 1765, published his elegant collection of heroic ballads, songs, and pieces of early poetry under the title of ‘Reliques Of Ancient English Poetry.’ The plan of the work was adjusted in concert with Mr. Shenstone, but we own we cannot regret that the execution of it devolved upon Dr. Percy alone; of whose labours, as an editor, it might be said, ‘Nihil quod tetigit non ornavit.'” Sir W. Scott. Prose Works, vol. xvii. P. 120.-E.
(768) The work was entitled “A Collection of Old Ballads, corrected from the best and most ancient copies extant, with Introductions, historical, critical, or humorous.” Sir Walter Scott observes, that the editor was an enthusiast in the cause of old poetry, and selected his matter without much regard to decency, as will appear from the following singular preface to one or two indelicate pieces of humour:–“One of the greatest complaints made by the ladies against the first volume of our collection, and, indeed, the only one which has reached my ears, is the want of merry songs. I believe I may give a pretty good guess at what they call mirth in such pieces as These, and shall endeavour to satisfy them.” Prose Works, vol. xvii. p. 122.-E.
(769) The Bower of Rosamond is said, or rather fabled, to have been a retreat built at Woodstock by Henry II. for the safe residence of his mistress, Rosamond Clifford; the approaches of which were so intricate, that it could not be entered without the guidance of a thread, which the King always kept in his own possession. His Queen, Eleanor, having, however, gained possession of the thread, obtained access to, and speedily destroyed her fair rival.-E.
Letter 244 To Monsieur Elie De Beaumont.(770) Strawberry Hill, March 18, 1765. (page 381)
Sir,
When I had the honour of seeing you here, I believe I told you that I had written a novel, in which I was flattered to find that I had touched an effusion of the heart in a manner similar to a passage in the charming letters of the Marquis de Roselle.(771) I have since that time published my little story, but was so diffident of its merit, that I gave it as a translation from the Italian. Still I should not have ventured to offer it to so great a mistress of the passions as Madame de Beaumont, if the approbation of London, that is, of a country to which she and you, Sir, are so good as to be partial, had not encouraged me to send it to you. After I have talked of the passions, and the natural effusion-, of the heart, how will you be surprised to find a narrative of the most improbable and absurd adventures! How will you be amazed to hear that a country of whose good sense you have an opinion should have applauded so wild a tale! But you must remember, Sir, that whatever good sense we have, we are not yet in any light chained down to precepts and inviolable laws. All that Aristotle or his superior commentators, your authors, have taught us, has not yet subdued us to regularity: we still prefer the extravagant beauties of Shakspeare and Milton to the cold and well-disciplined merit of Addison, and even to the sober and correct march of Pope. Nay, it was but t’other day that we were transported to hear Churchill rave in numbers less chastised than Dryden’s, but still in numbers like Dryden’s.(772) You will not, I hope, think I apply these mighty names to my own case with any vanity, when it is only their enormities that I quote, and that in defence, not of myself’ but of my countrymen, who have good-humour enough to approve the visionary scenes and actors in the Castle of Otranto.
To tell you the truth, it was not so much my intention to recall the exploded marvels of ancient romance, as to blend the wonderful of old stories with the natural of modern novels. The world is apt to wear out any plan whatever; and if the Marquis de Roselle had not appeared, I should have been inclined to say, that that species had been exhausted. Madame de Beaumont must forgive me if I add, that Richardson had, to me at least, made that kind of writing insupportable. I thought the nodus was become dignus vindice, and that a god, at least a ghost, was absolutely necessary to frighten us out of too much senses. When I had so wicked a design, no wonder if the execution was answerable. If I make you laugh, for I cannot flatter myself that I shall make you cry, I shall be content; at least I shall be satisfied, till I have the pleasure of seeing you, with putting you in mind of, Sir, your, etc.
P. S. The passage I alluded to in the beginning of my letter is where Matilda owns her passion to Hippolita. I mention it, as I fear so unequal a similitude would not strike Madame de Beaumont.
(770) M. Elie de Beaumont was
admitted an advocate at the French bar in 1762. The weakness of his voice militated against his success as a pleader, but the beauty and eloquence with which he drew up his M`emoires, and especially the one in favour of the unfortunate Calas family, gained him great reputation. He was born in 1732, and died in 1786.-E.
(771) A French epistolary novel written by Madame Elie de Beaumont. She also wrote the third part of “Anecdotes de la Cour et du R`egne de Edouard II.” She was born at Caen in 1729, and died in 1783.-E.
(772) “Churchill,” observes Mr. Campbell, in his Specimens of the British Poets, ” may be ranked as a satirist immediately after Pope and Dryden, with perhaps a greater share of humour than either. He has the bitterness of Pope, with less wit to atone for it; but no mean share of the free manner and energetic plainness of Dryden,” Vol. vi. P. 5.-E.
Letter 245 To The Earl Of Hertford.
Arlington Street, March 28, 1765. (page 382)
Three weeks are a great while, my dear lord, for me to have been without writing to you; but besides that I have passed many days at Strawberry, to cure my cold (which it has done), there has nothing happened worth sending across the sea. Politics have dozed, and common events been fast asleep. Of Guerchy’s affair,(773) you probably know more than I do; it is now forgotten. I told him I had absolute proof of his innocence, for I was sure, that if he had offered money for assassination, the men who swear against him would have taken it.
The King has been very seriously ill,; and in great danger. I would not alarm you, as there were hopes when he was at the worst. I doubt he is not free yet from his complaint, as the humour fallen on his breast still oppresses him. They talk of his having a levee next week, but he has not appeared in public, and the bills are passed by commission; but he rides out. The Royal Family have suffered like us mortals; the Duke of Gloucester has had a fever, but I believe his chief complaint is of a youthful kind. Prince Frederick is thought to be in a deep consumption; and for the Duke of Cumberland, next post will probably certify you of his death, as he is relapsed, and there are no hopes Of him. He fell into his lethargy again, and when they waked him, he said he did not know whether he could call himself obliged to them.
I dined two days ago at Monsieur de Guerchy’s, with the Comte de Caraman,(774) who brought me your letter. He seems a very agreeable Man, and you may be sure, for Your sake, and Madame de Mirepoix’s, no civilities in my power shall be wanting. I have not yet seen Schouvaloff,(775) about whom one has more curiosity–it is an opportunity of gratifying that passion which one can so seldom do in Personages of his historic nature, especially remote foreigners. I wish M. de Caraman had brought the “Siege of Calais,”(776) which he tells me is printed, though your account has a little abated my impatience. They tell us the French comedians are to act at Calais this summer–is it possible they can be so absurd, or think us so absurd as to go thither, if we would not go further? I remember, at Rheims, they believed that English ladies went to Calais to drink champagne!–is this the suite of that belief? I was mightily pleased with the Duc de Choiseul’s answer to the Clairon;(777) but when I hear of the French admiration of Garrick, it takes off something of my wonder at the prodigious admiration of him at home. I never could conceive the marvellous merit of repeating the words of other’s in one’s own language with propriety, however well delivered. Shakspeare is not more admired for writing his plays, than Garrick for acting them. I think him a very good and very various player–but several have pleased me more, though I allow not in so many parts. Quin in Falstaff, was as excellent as Garrick in Lear. Old Johnson far more natural in every thing he attempted. Mrs. Porter and your Dumesnil surpassed him in passionate tragedy; Cibber and O’Brien were what Garrick could never reach, coxcombs, and men of fashion.(778) Mrs. Clive is at least as perfect in low comedy–and Yet to me, Ranger was the part that suited Garrick the best of all he ever performed. He was a poor Lothario, a ridiculous Othello, inferior to Quin(779) in Sir John Brute and Macbeth, and to Cibber in Bayes, and a woful Lord Hastings and Lord Townley. Indeed, his Bayes was original, but not the true part: Cibber was the burlesque of a great poet, as the part was designed, but Garrick made it a Garretteer. The town did not like him in Hotspur, and yet I don’t know whether he did not succeed in it beyond all the rest. Sir Charles Williams and Lord Holland thought so too, and they were no bad judges. I am impatient to see the Clairon, and certainly will, as I have promised, though I have not fixed my day. But do you know you alarm me! There was a time when I was a match for Madame de Mirepoix at pharaoh, to any hour of the night, and believe did play, with her five nights in a week till three and four in the morning–but till eleven o’clock to-morrow morning- -Oh! that is a little too much even at loo. Besides, I shall not go to Paris for pharaoh–if I play all night, how shall I see every thing all day?
Lady Sophia Thomas has received the Baume de vie, for she gives you a thousand thanks, and I ten thousand.
We are extremely amused with the wonderful histories of your hyena(780) in the Gevaudan: but our fox-hunters despise you: it is exactly the enchanted monster of old romances. If I had known its history a few months ago, I believe it would have appeared in the Castle of Otranto,–the success of which has, at last, brought me to own it, though the wildness of it made me terribly afraid: but it was comfortable to have it please so much, before any mortal suspected the author: indeed, it met with too much honour far, for at first it was universally believed to be Mr. Gray’s. As all the first impression is sold, I am hurrying out another, with a new preface, which I will send you.
There is not so much delicacy of wit as in M. de Choiseul’s speech to the Clairon, but I think the story I am going to tell you in return, will divert you as much: there was a vast assembly at Marlborough-house, and a throng in the doorway. My Lady Talbot said, “Bless me! I think this is like the Straits of Thermopylae!” My Lady Northumberland replied, “I don’t know what Street that is, but I wish I could get my – through.” I hope you admire the contrast. Adieu! my dear lord! Yours ever.
(773) This alludes, it is presumed, to a bill of indictment which was found in the beginning of March, at the sessions at Hick’s Hall, against the Count de Guerchy, for the absurd charge of a conspiracy to murder D’Eon.-C.
(774) Probably fran`cois Joseph, Count de Caraman, who married a Princess de Chimay, heiress of the house of Benin, niece of Madame de Mirepoix.-C.
(775) He had been favourite to the Empress Catherine; and, as Mr. Walpole elsewhere says, “a favourite without an enemy.”-C.
(776) A tragedy by M. du Belloy, which, with little other merit than its anti-Anglicism, (which, in all times, has passed in France for patriotism,) “faisait fureur” at this time.-C.
(777) Mademoiselle Clairon was at this moment in such vogue on the French stage, that her admirers struck a medal in honour of her, and wore it as a kind of order. A critic of the name of Fr`eron, however, did not partake these sentiments, and drew, in his journal, an injurious character of Mademoiselle Clairon. This insult so outraged the tragedy queen, that she and her admirers moved heaven and earth to have Fr`ron sent to the Bastile, and, failing in her solicitation to the inferior departments, she at last had recourse to the prime-minister, the Duke of Choiseul, himself. His answer, which Lord Hertford, no doubt, had communicated to Mr. Walpole, was admired for its polite persiflage of her theatric Majesty. “I am,” said the Duke, “like yourself, a public performer, with this difference in your favour, that you choose the parts you please, and are sure to be crowned with the applause of the public (for I reckon as nothing the bad taste of one or two wretched individuals who have the misfortune of not admiring you). I, on the other hand, am obliged to act the parts imposed on me by necessity. I am sure to please nobody; I am satirized, criticised, libelled, hissed,–yet I continue to do my best. Let us both, then, sacrifice our little resentments and enmities to the public service, and serve our country each in our own station. Besides,” he added, “the Queen has condescended to forgive Fr`eron, and you may, therefore, without compromising your dignity, imitate her Majesty’s clemency.” M`emoires de Bachaumont, t. i. p. 61. Such were the miserable intrigues and squabbles, and such the examples of ministerial pleasantry and prudence which occupied and amused the Parisian public!–this; is but a straw to show which way the wind blew; but such instances moderate our surprise and our sorrow at the storm which followed.-C.
(778) There was some little personal pique in Mr. Walpole’s opinion of Garrick; yet it would be difficult to imagine a more forcible eulogium on that great actor than is here inadvertently pronounced, when, in order to find an equivalent for him, Mr. Walpole is obliged to bring together old Johnson and Colley Cibber, Quin and Clive, Porter and Dumesnil–two nations, two generations, and both sexes.-C.
(779) “In Brute he shone unequalled; all agree Garrick’s not half so great a brute as he.” Rosciad.-E.
(780) A wolf of enormous size, and, in some respects, irregular conformation, which for a long time ravaged the Gevaudan; it was, soon after the date of this letter, killed, and Mr. Walpole saw it in Paris.-C.
Letter 246 To George Montagu, Esq.
Arlington Street, April 5, 1765. (page 384)
I sent you two letters t’other day from your kin, and might as well have written then as now, for I have nothing to tell you. Mr. Chute has quitted his bed to-day the first time for above five weeks, but is still swathed like a mummy. He was near relapsing; for old Mildmay, whose lungs, and memory, and tongue, will never wear out, talked to him t’other night from eight till half an hour after ten, on the Poor-bill; but he has been more comfortable with Lord Dacre and me this evening.
I have read the Siege of Calais, and dislike it extremely, though there are fine lines, but the conduct is woful. The outrageous applause it has received ,it Paris was certainly Political, and intended to stir up their spirit and animosity against us, their good, merciful, and forgiving allies. they will have no occasion for this ardour; they may smite one cheek, and we shall turn t’other.
Though I have little to say, it is worth while to write, only to tell you two bon-mots of Quin, to that turncoat hypocrite infidel, Bishop Warburton. That saucy priest was haranguing at Bath in behalf of prerogative: Quin said, “Pray, my lord, spare me, you are not acquainted with my principles, I am a republican; and perhaps I even think that the execution of Charles the First might be justified.” “AY!” said Warburton, “by what law?” Quin replied, “By all the laws he had left them.” The Bishop(781) would have got off upon judgments, and bade the player remember, that all the regicides came to violent ends; a lie, but no matter. “I would not advise your lordship,” said Quin, “to make use of that inference; for, if I am not mistaken, that was the case of the twelve apostles.” There was great wit ad hominem in the latter reply, but I think the former equal to any thing I ever heard. It is the sum of the whole controversy couched in eight monosyllables, and comprehends at once the King’s guilt and the justice of punishing it. The more one examines it, the finer it proves. One can say nothing after it: so good night! Yours ever.
(781) Gray, in a letter of the 29th, relates the following anecdote:–“Now I am talking of bishops, I must tell you that, not long ago, Bishop Warburton, in a sermon at court, asserted that all preferments were bestowed on the most illiterate and worthless objects; and, in speaking, turned himself about and stared at the Bishop of London: he added, that if any one arose distinguished for merit and learning, there was a combination of dunces to keep him down. I need not tell you that he expected the bishopric of London when Terrick got it: so ends my ecclesiastical history.” Works, vol. iv. p. 40.-E.
Letter 247 To The Earl Of Hertford.
Strawberry Hill, Easter Sunday, April 7, 1765. (page 385)
Your first wish -will be to know how the King does: he came to Richmond last Monday for a week; but appeared suddenly and unexpected at his lev`ee at St. James’s last Wednesday; this was managed to prevent a crowd. Next day he was at the drawing-room, and at chapel on Good Friday. They say, he looks pale; but it is the fashion to call him very well:–I wish it may be true.(782) The Duke of Cumberland is actually set out for Newmarket to-day: he too is called much better; but it is often as true of the health of princes as of their prisons, that there is little distance between each and their graves.(783) There has been a fire at Gunnersbury, which burned four rooms: her servants announced it to Princess Amalie with that wise precaution of ” Madam, don’t be frightened!”–accordingly, she was terrified. When they told her the truth, she said, “I am very glad; I had concluded my brother was dead.”–So much for royalties!
Lord March and George Selwyn are arrived, after being wind-bound for nine days, at Calais. George is so charmed with my Lady Hertford, that I believe it was she detained him at Paris, not Lord March. I am full as much transported with Schouvaloff–I never saw so amiable a man! so much good breeding, humility, and modesty, with sense and dignity! an air of melancholy, without any thing abject. Monsieur de Caraman is agreeable too, informed and intelligent; he supped at your brother’s t’other night, after being at Mrs. Anne Pitt’s. As the first curiosity of foreigners is to see Mr. Pitt, and as that curiosity is one of the most difficult points in the world to satisfy, he asked me if Mr. Pitt was like his sister? I told him, “Qu’ils se ressembloient comme deux gouttes de feu.”
The Parliament is adjourned till after the holidays, and the trial.(784) There have been two very long days in our own House, on a complaint from Newfoundland merchants on French encroachments. The ministry made a woful piece of work of it the first day, and we the second. Your brother, Sir George Savile, and Barr`e shone; but on the second night, they popped a sudden division upon us about nothing; some went out, and some stayed in; they were 161, we but 44, and then they flung pillows upon the question, and stifled it,–and so the French have not encroached.
There has been more serious work in the Lords, upon much less important matter; a bill for regulating the poor,–(don’t ask me how, for you know I am a perfect goose about details of business,) formed by one Gilbert,(785) a member, and steward to the Duke of Bridgewater, or Lord Gower, or both,–had passed pacifically through the Commons, but Lord Egmont set fire to it in the Lords. On the second reading, he opposed it again, and made a most admired speech; however it passed on. But again, last Tuesday, when it was to be in the committee, such forces were mustered against the bill, that behold all the world regarded it as a pitched battle between Lord Bute and Lord Holland on One side, and the Bedfords and Grenville on the other. You may guess if it grew a day of expectation. When it arrived, Lord Bute was not present, Lord Northumberland voted for the bill, and Lord Holland went away. Still politicians do not give up the mystery. Lord Denbigh and Lord Pomfret, especially the latter, were the most personal against his Grace of Bedford. He and his friends, they say, (for I was not there, as you will find presently,) kept their temper well. At ten at night the House divided, and, to be sure, the minority was dignified; it consisted of the Dukes of York and Gloucester, the Chancellor, Chief Justice, Lord President, Privy Seal, Lord Chamberlain, Chamberlain to the Queen, Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, and a Secretary of State. Lord Halifax, the other Secretary, was ill. The numbers were 44 to 58. Lord Pomfret then moved to put off the bill for four months; but the cabinet rallied, and rejected the motion by a majority of one. So it is to come on again after the holidays. The Duke of Newcastle, Lord Temple, and the opposition, had once more the pleasure, which, I believe, they don’t dislike, of being in a majority.
Now, for my disaster; you will laugh at it, though it was woful to me. I was to dine at Northumberland-house, and went a little after four: there I found the Countess, Lady Betty Mekinsy, Lady Strafford; my Lady Finlater,(787) who was never out of Scotland before; a tall lad of fifteen, her son; Lord Drogheda, and Mr. Worseley.(788) At five,(789) arrived Mr. Mitchell,(790) who said the Lords had begun to read the Poor-bill, which would take at least two hours, and perhaps would debate it afterwards. We concluded dinner would be called for, it not being Very precedented for ladies to wait for gentlemen:–no such thing. Six o’clock came,–seven o’clock came,–our coaches came,–well! we sent them away, and excuses were we were engaged. Still the Countess’s heart did not relent, nor uttered a syllable of apology. We wore out the wind and the weather, the opera and the play, Mrs. Cornelys’s and Almack’s, and every topic that would do in a formal circle. We hinted, represented–in vain. The clock struck eight: my lady, at last, said, she would go and order dinner; but it was a good half hour before it appeared. We then sat down to a table for fourteen covers; but instead of substantials, there was nothing but a profusion of plates striped red, green, and yellow, gilt plate, blacks and uniforms! My Lady Finlater, who had never seen these embroidered dinners, nor dined after three, was famished. The first course stayed as long as possible, in hopes of the lords: so did the second. The dessert at last arrived, and the middle dish was actually set on when Lord Finlater and Mr. Mackay(791) arrived!–would you believe it?–the dessert was remanded, and the whole first course brought back again!–Stay, I have not done:–just as this second first course had done its duty, Lord Northumberland, Lord Strafford, and Mekinsy came in, and the whole began a third time! Then the second course, and the dessert! I thought we should have dropped from our chairs with fatigue and fumes! When the clock struck eleven, we were asked to return to the drawing-room, and drink tea and coffee, but I said I was engaged to supper, and came home to bed. My dear lord, think of four hours and a half in a circle of mixed company, and three great dinners, one after another, without interruption;–no, it exceeded our day at Lord Archer’s! Mrs. Armiger,(792) and Mrs. Southwell,(793) Lady Gower’s(794) niece, are dead, and old Dr. Young, the poet.(795) Good night!
(782) “In April 1765,” says the Quarterly Review for June 1840, “his Majesty had a serious illness: its particular character was then unknown, but we have the best authority for believing that it was of the nature of those which thrice after afflicted his Majesty, and finally incapacitated him for the duties of government.”-E.
(783) The French express this thought very dramatically; “Monseigneur est malade–Monscigneur est mieux–Monseigneur est mort!”-C.
(784) See ant`e, p. 296, letter 194.-E.
(785) Of Lord Byron.
(786) Thomas Gilbert, Esq. At this time member for Newcastle-under-Line, and comptroller of the King’s wardrobe.-E.
(787) Lady Mary Murray, daughter of John first Duke of Athol, and wife of James sixth Earl of Finlater: her son, afterwards seventh Earl, was born in 1750.-E.
(788) Probably Thomas Worseley, Esq. member for Oxford, and surveyor-general of the board of works.-C.
(789) This was probably the hour of extreme fashion at this time.-C.
(790) Afterwards Sir Andrew Mitchell, K. B. He was at this time our minister at Berlin, and also member for the burghs of Elgin, etc.-E.
(791) Probably J. Ross Mackie, member for Kirkcudbright, treasurer of the ordnance.-C.
(792) The lady of Major-General Robert Armiger, who had been aide-de-camp to George II.-E.
(793) Catherine, heiress of Edward Watson, Viscount Sondes, by Lady Catherine Tufton, coheiress of the sixth Earl of Thanet, the son of Lady margaret Sackville, the heiress of the De Cliffords: she was the mother of Edward Southwell, Esq., member for Gloucestershire, who, on the death of the great-aunt, Margaret Tufton, Baroness de Clifford, was confirmed in that barony.-C.
(794) Mary, another daughter and coheiress of the sixth Earl Thanet, widow of Anthony Grey, Earl of harold, and third wife of John first Earl Gower.-C.
(795) Dr. Young died on the 5th of April, in his eighty-fourth year.-E.
Letter 248 To The Earl Of Hertford.
Arlington Street, April 18, 1765. (page 388)
Lady Holland carries this, which enables me to write a little more explicitly than I have been able to do lately. The King has been in the utmost danger; the humour in his face having fallen upon his breast. He now appears constantly; yet, I fear, his life is very precarious, and that there is even apprehension of a consumption. After many difficulties from different quarters, a Regency-bill is determined; the King named it first to the ministers, who said, they intended to mention it to him as soon as he was well; yet they are not thought to be fond of it. The King is to come to the House on Tuesday, and recommend the provision to the Parliament.(796) Yet, if what is whispered proves true, that the nomination of the Regent is to be reserved to the King’s will, it is likely to cause great uneasiness. If the ministers propose such a clause, it is strong evidence of their own instability, and, I should think, would not save them, at least, some of them. The world expects changes Soon, though not a thorough alteration; yet, if any takes place shortly, I should think It would be a material One than not. The enmity between Lord Bute and Mr. Grenville is not denied on either side. There is a notion, and I am inclined to think not ill founded, that the former and Mr. Pitt are treating. It is certain that the last has expressed wishes that the opposition may lie still for the remainder of the session. This, at least, puts an end to the question on your brother,(797) of which I am glad for the present. The common town-talk is, that Lord Northumberland does not care to return to Ireland,–that you are to succeed him there, Lord Rochford you, and that Sandwich is to go to Spain. My belief is, that there will be no change, except, perhaps, a single one for Lord Northumberland, unless there are capital removals indeed.
The Chancellor, Grenville, the Bedfords, and the two Secretaries are one body; at least, they pass for such: yet it is very lately, if one of them has dropped his prudent management with Lord Bute. There seems an unwillingness to discard the Bedfords, though their graces themselves keep little terms of civility to Lord Bute, none to the Princess (Dowager). Lord Gower is a better courtier, and Rigby would do any thing to save his place.
This is the present state, which every day may alter: even to-morrow is a day of expectation, as the last struggle of the Poor-bill. If the Bedfords carry it, either by force or sufferance, (though Lord Bute has constantly denied being the author of the opposition to it,) I shall less expect any great change soon. In those less important, I shall not wonder to find the Duke of Richmond come upon the scene, perhaps for Ireland, though he is not talked of.
Your brother is out of town, not troubling himself, though the time seems so critical. I am not so philosophic; as I almost wish for any thing that may put an end to my being concerned in the m`el`ee–for any end to a most gloomy prospect for the country: alas! I see it not.
Lord Byron’s trial lasted two days, and he was acquitted totally by four lords, Beaulieu, Falmouth, Despenser,(798) and Orford,(799) and found guilty of manslaughter by one hundred and twenty. The Dukes of York and Gloucester were present in their places. The prisoner behaved with great decorum, and seemed thoroughly shocked and mortified. Indeed, the bitterness of the world against him has been great, and the stories they have revived or invented to load him, very grievous. The Chancellor has behaved with his usual, or, rather greater vulgarness and blunders. Lord Pomfret(800) kept away decently, from the similitude of his own story.
I have been to wait on Messrs. Choiseul(801) and De Lauragais,(802) as you desired, but have not seen then yet. The former is lodged with my Lord Pembroke, and the Guerchys are in terrible apprehensions of his exhibiting some scene.
The Duke of Cumberland bore the journey to Newmarket extremely well, but has been lethargic Since,; yet they have found out that Daffy’s Elixir agrees with, and does him good. Prince Frederick is very bad. There is no private news at all. As I shall not deliver this till the day after to-morrow, I shall be able to give you an account of the fate of the Poor-bill.
The medals that came for me from Geneva, I forgot to mention to you, and to beg you to be troubled with them till I see you. I had desired Lord Stanhope(803) to send them; and will beg you too, if any bill is sent, to pay it for me, and I will repay it. you. I say nothing of my journey, which the unsettled state of my affairs makes it impossible for me to fix. I long for every reason upon earth to be with you.
April 20th, Saturday.
The Poor-bill is put off till Monday; is then to be amended, and then dropped: a confession of weakness, in a set of people not famous for being moderate! I was assured, last night, that Ireland had been twice offered to you, and that it hung on their insisting upon giving you a secretary, either Wood or Bunbury. I replied very truly that I knew nothing of it, that you had never mentioned it to me and I believed not even to your brother. The answer was, Oh! his particular friends are always the last that know any thing about him. Princess Amalie loves this topic, and is for ever teasing us about your mystery. I defend myself by pleading that I have desired you never to tell me any thing till it was in the gazette.
They say there is to be a new alliance in the house of Montagu: that Lord Hinchinbrook(804) is to marry the sole remaining daughter of Lord Halifax; that her fortune is to be divided into three shares, of which each father is to take one, and the third is to be the provision for the victims. I don’t think this the most unlikely part of the story. Adieu! my dear lord.
(796) In a letter to his son, of the 22d of April, Chesterfield says:–“Apropos of a minority: the King is to come to the House tomorrow, to recommend a bill to settle a regency, in case of his demise while his successor is a minor. Upon his late illness, which was no trifling one, the whole nation cried out aloud for such a bill, for reasons which will readily occur to you, who know situations, persons, and characters here. I do not know the provisions of this intended bill; but I wish it may b(@ copied exactly from that which was passed in the late King’s reign, when the present King was a minor. I am sure there cannot be a better.”-E.
(797) As to his dismissal.-C.
(798) Sir Francis Dashwood, lately confirmed in this barony, as the heir of the Fanes by his mother. He had been chancellor of the exchequer in Lord Bute’s administration.-E.
(799) George, third Earl of Orford, Mr. Walpole’s nephew; on whose death, in 1791, he succeeded to the title.-E.
(800) George, second Earl of Pomfret, while Lord Lempster, had the misfortune to kill Captain Grey, of the Guards, in a duel: he was tried at the Old Bailey in April 1752, and found guilty of manslaughter only. See vol. ii. p. 124, letter 54.-E.
(801) The son, it is supposed, of the Duc de Praslin.-C.
(802) Louis L`eon de Brancas, the eldest son of the Duc de Villars Brancas: he was, during his father’s life, known as the Comte, and afterwards Duc, de Lauragais, and was a very singular and eccentric person. He was a great Anglomane, and was the first introducer into France of horseraces `a l’Anglaise; it was to him that Louis XV.–not pleased at his insolent Anglomanie– made so excellent a retort. The King had asked him after one of his journeys, what he had learned in England? Lauragais answered, with a kind of republican dignity, “A panser” (penser).–“Les chavaux?” inquired the King. On the other hand, he was one of the first promoters of the practice of inoculation. stories about him, both in England and France, are endless: “He was,” says M. de Segur, who knew him well, “one of the most singular men of the long period in which he lived; he united in his person a combination of great qualities and great faults, the smallest portion of which would have marked any other man with a striking originality.” He died in 1823, at the age of ninety-one–his youthful name and follies forgotten in the respectable old age of the Duc de Brancas.-C.
(803) Philip, second Earl Stanhope; for a character of whom, by his great-grandson, Lord Mahon, see vol. i. p. 308, letter 96, note 771.-E.
(804) Afterwards fifth Earl of sandwich. The match with lady Eliza Savile took place on the 1st of march 1766.-E.
Letter 249 To Sir David Dalrymple.(805) Strawberry Hill, April 21, 1765. (page 391)
Sir,
Except the mass of Conway papers, on which I have not yet had time to enter seriously, I am sorry I have nothing at present that would answer your purpose. Lately, indeed, I have had little leisure, to attend to literary pursuits. I have been much out of order with a violent cold and cough for great part of the winter; and the distractions of this country, which reach even those who mean the least to profit by their country, have not left even me, who hate politics, without some share in them. Yet as what one does not love, cannot engross one entirely, I have amused myself a little with writing. Our friend Lord Finlater will perhaps show you the fruit of that trifling, though I had not the confidence to trouble you with such a strange thing as a miraculous story, of which I fear the greatest merit is the novelty.
I have lately perused with much pleasure a collection of old ballads, to which I see, Sir, you have contributed with your usual benevolence. Continue this kindness to the public, and smile as I do, when the pains you take for them are misunderstood or perverted. Authors must content themselves with hoping that two or three Intelligent persons in an age will understand the merit of their writings, and those authors are bound in good breeding to Suppose that the public in general is enlightened. They who arc in the secret know how few of that public they have any reason to wish should read their works. I beg pardon of my masters the public, and am confident, Sir, YOU Will not betray me; but let me beg you not to defraud the few that deserve your information, in compliment to those who are not capable of receiving it. Do as I do about my small house here. Every body that comes to see it or me, are so good as to wonder that I don’t make this or that alteration. I never haggle with them; but always say I intend it. They are satisfied with the attention and themselves, and I remain with the enjoyment of my house as I like it. Adieu! dear Sir.
(805) Now first collected.
Letter 250 To The Earl Of Hertford.
Arlington Street, May 5, 1765. (page 391)
The plot thickens; at least, it does not clear up. I don’t know how to tell you in the compass of a letter, what is matter for a history, and it is the more difficult, as we are but just in the middle.
During the recess, the King acquainted the ministry that he would have a Bill of Regency, and told them the particulars of his intention. The town gives Lord Holland the honour of the measure;(806) certain it is, the ministry, who are not the court, did not taste some of the items: such as the Regent to be in petto, the Princes(807) to be omitted, and four secret nominations to which the Princes might be applied. However, thinking it was better to lose their share of future power than their present places, the ministers gave a gulp and swallowed the whole potion; still it lay so heavy at their stomachs, that they brought up part of it again, and obtained the Queen’s name to be placed, as one that might be regent. Mankind laughed, and proclaimed their Wisdoms bit. Upon this, their Wisdoms beat up for opponents, and set fire to the old stubble(808) of the Princess and Lord Bute. Every body took the alarm; and such uneasiness was raised, that after the King had notified the bill to both Houses, a new message was sent, and instead of four secret nominations, the five Princes were named, with power to the crown of supplying their places if they died off.
Last Tuesday the bill was read a second time in the Lords. Lord Lyttelton opposed an unknown Regent, Lord Temple the whole bill, seconded by Lord Shelburne. The first
division came on the commitment of the whole bill. The Duke of Newcastle and almost all The opposition were with the majority, for his grace could not decently oppose so great a likeness of his own child, the former bill, and so they were one hundred and twenty. Lord Temple, Lord Shelburne, the Duke of Grafton, and six more, composed the minority; the Slenderness of which so enraged Lord Temple, though he had declared himself of no party, and connected with no party, that he and the Duke of Bolton came no more to the House. Next day Lord Lyttelton moved an address to the King, to name the person he would recommend for Regent. In the midst of this debate, the Duke of Richmond started two questions; whether the Queen was naturalized, and if not, whether capable of being Regent: and he added a third much more puzzling; who are the Royal Family? Lord Denbigh answered flippantly, all who are prayed for: the Duke of Bedford, more significantly, those, only who are in the order of succession–a direct exclusion of the Princess; for the Queen is named in the bill. The Duke of Richmond moved to consult the judges; Lord Mansfield fought this off, declared he had his opinion, but would not tell it–and stayed away next day! They then proceeded on Lord Lyttelton’s motion, which was rejected by eighty-nine to thirty-one; after which, the Duke of Newcastle came no more; and Grafton, Rockingham, and many others, went to Newmarket: for that rage is so strong, that I cease to wonder at the gentleman who was going out to hunt as the battle of Edgehill began.
The third day was a scene of folly and confusion, for when Lord Mansfield is absent,
“Lost is the nation’s sense, nor can be found.”
The Duke of Richmond moved an amendment, that the persons capable of the Regency should be the
Queen, the Princess Dowager, and all the descendants of the late King usually resident in England. Lord Halifax endeavoured to jockey this, by a previous amendment of now for usually. The Duke persisted with great firmness and cleverness; Lord Halifax, with as much peevishness and absurdity; in truth, he made a woful figure. The Duke of Bedford supported t’other Duke against the Secretary, but would not yield to name the Princess, though the Chancellor declared her of the Royal Family.(809) This droll personage is exactly what Woodward would be, if there was such a farce as Trappolin Chancellor. You will want a key to all this, but who has a key to chaos? After puzzling on for two hours how to adjust these motions, while the spectators stood laughing around, Lord Folkestone rose, and said, why not say now and usually? They adopted this amendment at once, and then rejected the Duke of Richmond’s motion, but ordered the judges to attend next day on the questions of naturalization.
Now comes the marvellous transaction, and I defy Mr. Hume, an historian as he is, to parallel it. The judges had decided for the Queen’s capability, when Lord Halifax rose, by the King’s permission, desired to have the bill recommitted, and then moved the Duke of Richmond’s own words, with the single omission of the Princess Dowager’s name, and thus she alone is rendered incapable of the Regency–and stigmatized by act of parliament! The astonishment of the world is not to be described. Lord Bute’s friends are thunderstruck. The Duke of Bedford almost danced about the House for joy. Comments there are, various; and some palliate it, by saying it was done at the Princess’s desire; but the most inquisitive say, the King was taken by surprise, that Lord Halifax proposed the amendment to him, and hurried with it to the House of Lords, before it could be recalled; and they even surmise that he did not observe to the King the omission of his mother’s name. Be that as it may, open war seems to be declared between the court and the administration, and men are gazing to see which side will be victorious.
To-morrow the bill comes to us, and Mr. Pitt, too, violent against the whole bill, unless this wonderful event has altered his tone.- For my part I shall not be surprised, if he affects to be in astonishment at missing “a great and most respectable man!”(810) This is the sum total–but what a sum total! It is the worst of North Britons published by act of parliament!
I took the liberty, in my last, of telling you what I heard about your going to Ireland. It was from one you know very well, and one I thought well informed, or I should not have mentioned it. Positive as the information was, I find nothing to confirm it. On the contrary, Lord Harcourt(811) seems the most probable, if any thing is probable at this strange juncture. You will scarce believe me when I tell you, what I know is true, that the Bedfords pressed strongly for Lord Weymouth–Yes, for Lord Weymouth. Is any thing extraordinary in them?
Will it be presuming, too much upon your friendship and indulgence, if I hint another point to you, which, I own, seems to me right to mention to you? You know how eagerly the ministry have laboured to deprive Mr. Thomas Walpole of the French commerce of tobacco. His correspondent sends him word, that you was so persuaded it was taken away, that you had recommended another person. You know enough, my dear lord, of the little connexion I have With that part of my family,(812) though we do visit again; and therefore will, I hope, be convinced, that it is for your sake I principally mention it. If Mr. Walpole loses this vast branch of trade, he and sir Joshua Vanneck must shut up shop. Judge the noise that would make in the city! Mr. Walpole’s(813) alliance with the Cavendishes (for I will say nothing of our family) would interest them deeply in his cause, and I think you would be sorry to have them think you instrumental to his ruin. Your brother knows of my writing to you and giving this information, and we are both solicitous that your name should not appear in this transaction. This letter goes to you by a private hand, or I would not have spoken so plainly throughout. Whenever you please to recall your positive order, that I should always tell you whatever I hear that relates to you, I shall willingly forbear, for I am sensible this is not the most agreeable province of friendship; yet, as it is certainly due whenever demanded, I
don’t consider myself, but sacrifice the more agreeable task of pleasing you to that of serving you, that I may show myself Yours most sincerely, H. W.
(806) It was certainly the result of his Majesty’s own good sense, directed to the subject by his late serious indisposition; but the details, and the mismanagement of these details, were, no doubt, the acts of the ministers.-C.
(807) The King,’s uncle and brothers.-E.
(808) These hints as to the modes by which the extraordinary prejudices and clamours which disturbed the first years of the reign of George III. were excited and maintained at the pleasure of a faction, are very valuable: and the spirit of the times was in nothing more evident than in the intrigues and violence which marked the progress of so simple and necessary a measure as the Regency-bill.-C.
(809) This opinion of the Chancellor’s appears to have been considered by Mr. Walpole as very absurd, and he seems inclined to come to the same conclusion which Sterne has treated with such admirable ridicule in the case of the Duchess of Suffolk, viz. that “the mother was not of kin to her own child.” See Tristram Shandy, part 4. Nothing in the debate of Didius and Triptolemus at the visitation dinner, is more absurd than this grave discussion in the House of Lords, whether the King’s mother is one of the Royal Family.-C.
(810) This was Mr. Pitt’s expression on not finding Lord Anson’s name in the list of the ministry formed in 1757. Mr. Walpole, disliked Lord Anson, and on more than one occasion amuses himself with allusions to this phrase.-C.
(811) Simon, first Earl of Harcourt: he was, in 1768, ambassador to Paris, and in 1769, lord-lieutenant of Ireland.-C.
(812) This coolness between Mr. Walpole and his uncle should be remembered, when we read that portion of the Memoires which relates to Lord Walpole.-C.
(813) Mr. Thomas Walpole’s elder brother (second Lord Walpole, and first Lord Orford of his branch) married the youngest daughter of the third Duke of Devonshire.-C.
Letter 251 To The Earl Of Hertford.
Arlington Street, Sunday, May 12, 1765. (page 395)
The clouds and mists that I raise by my last letter will not be dispersed by this; nor will the Bill of Regency, as long as it has a day’s breath left (and it has but one to come) cease, I suppose, to produce extraordinary events. For agreeable events, it has not produced one to any Set Or side, except in gratifying malice; every other passion has received, or probably will receive, a box on the ear.
In my last I left the Princess Dowager in the mire. The next incident was of a negative kind. Mr. Pitt, who, if he had been wise, would have come to help her out, chose to wait to see if she was to be left there, and gave himself a terrible fit of the gout. As nobody was ready to read his part to the audience, (though I assure you we do not want a genius or two who think themselves born to dictate,) the first day in our House did not last two minutes. The next, which was Tuesday, we rallied our understandings (mine, indeed, did not go beyond being quiet, when the administration had done for us what we could not do for ourselves), and combated the bill till nine at night. Barr`e, who will very soon be our first orator, especially as some(814) are a little afraid to dispute with him, attacked it admirably, and your brother ridiculed the House of Lords delightfully, who, he said, had deliberated without concluding, and concluded without deliberating. However, we broke up without a division.
Can you devise what happened next? A buzz spread itself, that the Tories would move to reinstate the Princess. You will perhaps be so absurd as to think with me, that when the administration had excluded her, it was our business to pay her a compliment. Alas! that was my opinion, but I was soon given to understand that
patriots must be men of virtue, must be pharisees, and not countenance naughty women; and that when the Duchess of Bedford had thrown the first stone, we had nothing to do but continue pelting. Unluckily I was not convinced; I could neither see the morality nor prudence of branding the King’s mother upon no other authority than public fame: yet, willing to get something when I could not get all, I endeavoured to obtain that we should stay away. Even this was warmly contested with me, and, though I persuaded several, particularly the two oldest Cavendishes,(815) the Townshends,(816) and your nephew Fitzroy,(817) whom I trust you will thank me for saving, I could not convince Lord John, [Cavendish,] who, I am sorry to say, is the most obstinate, conceited young man I ever saw; George Onslow, and that old simpleton the Duke of Newcastle, who had the impudence to talk to me of character, and that we should be ruined with the public if we did not divide against the Princess. You will be impatient, and wonder I do not name your brother. You know how much he respects virtue and honour, even in their names; Lord John, who, I really believe, respects them too, has got cunning enough to see their empire over your
brother, and had fascinated him to agree to this outrageous, provoking, and most unjustifiable of all acts. Still Mr. Conway was so good as to yield to my earnest and vehement entreaties, and it was at last agreed to propose the name of the Queen; when we did not carry it, as we did not expect to do, to retire before the question came on the Princess. But even this measure was not strictly observed. We divided 67 for the nomination of the Queen, against 157. Then Morton(818) moved to reinstate the Princess. Martin, her treasurer, made a most indiscreet and offensive speech in her behalf; said she had been stigmatized by the House of Lords, and had lived long enough in this country to know the hearts and falsehood of those who had professed the most to her. Grenville vows publicly he will never forgive this, and was not more discreet, declaring, though he agreed to the restoration of her name, that he thought the omission would have been universally acceptable. George Onslow and all the Cavendishes, gained over by Lord John, and the most attached of the Newcastle band, opposed the motion; but your brother, Sir William Meredith, and I, and others, came away, which reduced the numbers so much that there was no division;(819) but now to unfold all this black scene;(820) it comes out as I had guessed, and very plainly told them, that the Bedfords had stirred up our fools to do what they did not dare to do themselves. Old Newcastle had even told me, that unless we opposed the Princess, the Duke of Bedford would not. It was
sedulously given out. that Forrester,(821) the latter duke’s lawyer, would speak against her; and after the question had passed, he told our people that we had given up the game when it was in our hands, for there had been many more noes than ayes. It was Very true, many did not wish well enough to the Princess to roar for her; and many will say no when the question is put, who will vote ay if it comes to a division. and of’ this I do not doubt but the Bedfords had taken care–well! duped by these gross arts, the Cavendishes and Pelhams determined to divide the next day on the report. I did not learn this mad resolution till four o’clock, when it was too late, and your brother in the House, and the report actually made; so I turned back and came away, learning
afterwards to my great mortification, that he had voted with them. If any thing could comfort me, it would be, that even so early as last night, and only this happened on Friday night, it was generally allowed how much I had been in the right, and foretold exactly all that had happened. They had vaunted to me how strong they should be. I had replied, “When you were but 76 on the most inoffensive question, do you think you will be half that number on the most personal and indecent that can be devised?” Accordingly, they were but 37 to 167; and to show how much the Bedfords were at the bottom of all, Rigby, they Forrester, and Lord Charles Spencer, went up into the Speaker’s chamber, and would not vote for the Princess! At first I was not quite so well treated. Sir William Meredith, who, by the way, voted in the second question against his opinion, told me Onslow had said that he, Sir William, your
brother, and Lord Townshend, had stayed away from conscience, but all the others from interest. I replied, “Then I am included in the latter predicament.(822) but you may tell Mr. Onslow that he will take a place before I shall, and that I had rather be suspected of being
mercenary, than stand up in my place and call God to witness that I meant nothing personal, when I was doing the most personal thing in the world.” I beg your pardon, my dear lord, for talking so much about myself, but the detail was necessary and important to you; who I wish should see that I can act with a little common sense, and will not be governed by all the frenzy of party.
The rest of the bill was contested inch by inch, and by division on division, till eleven at night, after our wise leaders had whittled down the minority to twenty-four.(823) Charles Townshend, they say, surpassed all he had ever done, in a wrangle with Onslow, and was so lucky as to have Barr`e absent, who has long lain in wait for him. When they told me how well Charles had spoken on himself, I replied, “That is conformable to what I always thought of his parts, that he speaks best on what he understands the least.”
We have done with the bill, and to-morrow our correction goes to the Lords. It will be a day of wonderful expectation.. to see in what manner they will swallow their vomit. The Duke of Bedford, it is conjectured, will stay away:–but what will that scape-goose, Lord Halifax, do, who is already convicted of having told the King a most notorious lie, that if the Princess was not given up by the Lords, she would be
unanimously excluded by the Commons! The Duke of Bedford, who had broke the ground, is little less blamable; but Sandwich, who was present, has, with his usual address, contrived not to be talked of, since the first hour.
When the bill shall be passed, the eyes of mankind will turn to see what will be the consequence. The Princess, and Lord Bute, and the Scotch, do not affect to conceal their indignation. If Lord Halifax is even reprieved, the King is more enslaved to a cabal than ever his grandfather was: yet how replace them! Newcastle and the most desirable of the opposition have rendered themselves more obnoxious than ever, and even seem, or must seem to Lord Bute, in league with those he wishes to remove. The want of a proper person for chancellor of the exchequer is another difficulty, though I think easily removable by clapping a tied wig on Ellis, Barrington, or any other block, and calling it George
Grenville. One remedy is obvious, and at which, after such insults and provocations, were I Lord Bute, I should not stick; I would deliver myself up, bound hand and foot, to Mr. Pitt, rather than not punish such traitors and wretches, who murmur, submit, affront, and swallow in the most
ignominious manner,–“Oh! il faudra qu’il y vienne,”–as L`eonor says in the Marquis de Roselle,–“il y viendra.” For myself, I have another little comfort, which is seeing that when the ministry encourage the Opposition, they do but lessen our numbers.
You may be easy about this letter, for Monsieur de Guerchy sends it for me by a private hand, as I did the last. I wish, by some Such conveyance, you would tell me a little of your mind on all this embroil, and whether you approve or disapprove my conduct. After the liberties you have permitted me to take with you, my dear lord, and without them, as you know my openness, and how much I am accustomed to hear of my faults, I think you cannot hesitate. Indeed, I must, I have done, or tried to do, just what you would have wished. Could I, who have at least some experience and knowledge of the world, have directed, our party had not been in the contemptible and ridiculous situation it is. Had I had more weight, things still more agreeable to you had happened. Now, I could almost despair; but I have still perseverance, and some resources left. Whenever I can get to you, I will unfold a great deal; but in this critical situation, I cannot trust what I can leave to no management but my own.
Your brother would have writ, if I had not: he is gone to Park-place to-day, with his usual phlegm, but returns tomorrow. What would I give you were here yourself; perhaps you do not thank me for the wish.
Do not wonder if, except thanking you for D’Alembert’s book,(824) I say not a word of any thing but politics. I have not had a single other thought these three weeks. Though in all the bloom of my passion, lilac-tide, I have not been at Strawberry this fortnight. I saw things arrive at the point(825) I wished, and to which I had singularly contributed to bring them, as you shall know hereafter, and then I saw all my Work kicked down by two or three frantic boys, and I see what I most dread, likely to happen, unless I can prevent it,–but I have said enough for you to understand me. I think we agree. However, this is for no ear or breast but your own. Remember Monsieur de Nivernois,(826) and take care of the letters you receive. Adieu!
(814) It seems from the next letter, that this alludes to Charles Townshend.-C.
(815) Lord George and Lord Frederick.-E.
(816) Probably Messrs. Thomas Townshend, senior and junior, and Charles Townshend, a cousin of the great Charles Townshend’s, who sat with Sir Edward Walpole for North Yarmouth.-C.
(817) Colonel Charles Fitzroy, afterwards Lord Southampton.-E.
(818) John Morton, Esq. member for Abingdon, and chief-justice of Chester.-E.
(819) The following is Lord Temple’s account of this debate, in a letter of the 10th, to his sister, Lady Chatham: “Inability and meanness are the characteristics of this whole proceeding,. I shall pass over the very uninteresting parts of this matter, and relate only the phenomenon of Morton’s motion yesterday, seconded by Kynaston, without a speech, and thirded by the illustrious Sam Martin. The speech of the first was dull, and of the latter very injudicious; saying that the House of Lords had passed a stigma on the Princess of Wales; disclaiming all knowledge of her wishes, but concluding, with a strong affirmative. George Onslow opposed the motion, with very bad reasons; Lord Palmerston, with much better. George Grenville seemed to convey, that the alteration made in the Lords was not without the King’s knowledge; but that, to be sure, in his opinion, such a testimony of zeal and affection which now manifested itself in the House of Commons in favour of his royal mother, could not but prove agreeable to his Majesty, and that therefore he should concur in it. The Cocoa-tree have thus her Royal Highness to be regent; it is well they have not given us a king, if they have not; for many think Lord Bute is king. No division: many noes.” Chatham Correspondence, vol. ii. p. 309.-E.
(820) It was, indeed, a black and scandalous intrigue, by which the character of the Sovereign’s mother, and the peace and comfort of the Royal Family, were thus made the counters with which contending factions played their game; and if we may believe Mr. Walpole himself, the motives which actuated those who attacked, and those who seemed to defend the Princess Dowager, were equally selfish and unworthy.-C.
(821) Probably Brook Forrester, Esq. of Lincoln’s Inn, member for Great Wenlock, a barrister-at-law. See ante, p. 281, letter 191.-C.
(822) It certainly does seem, from the foregoing account of his own motives, that conscience had little to do with Mr. Walpole’s conduct on this affair: as to his pledge, that Mr. Onslow would take a place before him, we must observe that it is not quite so generous as it may seem; for Mr. Walpole was already, by the provident care of his father, supplied with three sinecure places, and two rent-charges on two others, producing him altogether about 6300 pounds per annum. See Quarterly Review, Vol. xxvii. P. 198.-C.
(823) On the question for the third reading of the bill, the numbers were 150 and 24.-E.
(824) De la Destruction des
J`esuites.”-E.
(825 This seems to imply that Mr. Walpole thought, that if the Opposition had taken up the cause of the Princess Dowager when she had been abandoned by the ministers, the latter might have been removed, and the former brought into power.-C.
(826) He alludes to the infidelity of D’Eon to the Duke of Nivernois. See ant`e, p. 253, letter 181.-C.
Letter 252 To The Earl Of Hertford.
Arlington Street, Monday evening, May 20, 1765. (page 399)
I scarce know where to begin, and I am sure not where I shall end. I had comforted myself with getting over all my difficulties: my friends opened their eyes, and were ready, nay, some of them eager, to list under Mr. Pitt; for I must tell you, that by a fatal precipitation,(827) the King,–when his ministers went to him last Thursday, 16th, to receive his commands for his speech at the end of the sessions which was to have been the day after to-morrow, the 22d,–forbid the Parliament to be prorogued, which he said he would only have adjourned: they were thunderstruck, and asked if he intended to make any change in his administration? he replied, certainly; he could not bear it as it was. His uncle(828) was sent for, was ordered to form a new administration, and treat with Mr. Pitt. This negotiation proceeded for four days, and got wind in two. The town, more accommodating than Mr. Pitt, settled the whole list of employments. The facilities, however, were so few. that yesterday the hero of Culloden went down in person to the Conqueror of
America, at Hayes, and though tendering almost carte blanche,– blanchissime for the constitution, and little short of it for the whole red-book of places,–brought back nothing but a flat refusal. Words cannot paint the confusion into which every thing is thrown. The four ministers, I mean the Duke of Bedford, Grenville, and the two Secretaries, acquainted their master yesterday, that they adhere to one another, and shall all resign to-morrow, and, perhaps, must be recalled on Wednesday,–must have a carte noire, not blanche, and will certainly not expect any stipulations to be offered for the constitution, by no means the object of their care!
You are not likely to tell in Gath, nor publish in Ascalon, the alternative of humiliation to which the crown is reduced. But alas! this is far from being the lightest evil to which we are at the eve of being exposed. I mentioned the mob of weavers which had besieged the Parliament, and attacked the Duke of Bedford, and I thought no more of it; but on Friday, a well disciplined, and, I fear too well conducted a multitude, repaired again to Westminster with red and black flags; the House of Lords, where not thirty were present, acted with no spirit;–examined Justice Fielding, and the magistrates, and adjourned till to-day. At seven that evening, a prodigious multitude assaulted Bedford-house, and began to pull down the walls, and another party surrounded the garden, where there were but fifty men on guard, and had forced their way, if another party of Guards that had been sent for had arrived five minutes later. At last, after reading the
proclamation, the gates of the court were thrown open, and sixty foot-soldiers marched out; the mob fled, but, being met by a party of horse, were much cut and
trampled, but no lives lost. Lady Tavistock, and every thing valuable in the house, have been sent out of town. On Saturday, all was pretty quiet; the Duchess
was blooded, and every body went to visit them. I hesitated, being afraid of an air of triumph: -however, lest it should be construed the other way, I went last night at eight o’clock; in the square I found a great multitude, not of weavers, but seemingly of Sunday-passengers. At the gate, guarded by grenadiers, I found so large a throng, that I had not only difficulty to make my way, though in my chariot, but was hissed and pelted; and in two minutes after, the glass of Lady Grosvenor’s coach was broken, as those of Lady Cork’s chair were entirely demolished afterwards. I found Bedford-house a perfect garrison, sustaining a siege, the court full of horse-guards, constables, and gentlemen. I told the Duke that however I might happen to differ with him in politics, this was a common cause, and that every body must feel equal indignation at it. In the mean time the mob grew so riotous, that they were forced to make both horse and foot parade the square before the tumult was dispersed.
To-morrow we expect much worse. The weavers have declared they will come down to the House of Lords for redress, which they say they have been promised. A body of five hundred sailors were on the road from Portsmouth to join them, but luckily the admiralty had notice of their intention, and stopped them.(829) A large body of weavers are on the road from Norwich, and it is said have been joined by numbers in Essex; guards are posted to prevent, if possible, their
approaching the city. Another troop of manufacturers are coming from Manchester; and what is worst of’ all, there is such a general spirit of mutiny and dissatisfaction in the lower people, that I think we are in danger of a rebellion in the heart of the capital in a week. In the mean time, there is neither administration nor government. The King is out of town, and this is the crisis in which Mr. Pitt, who could stop every evil, chooses to be more unreasonable than ever.(830)
Mr. Craufurd, whom you have seen at the Duchess of Grafton’s, carries this, or I should not venture being so explicit. Wherever the storm may break out at first, I think Lord Bute cannot escape his share of it. The Bedfords may triumph over him, the Princess, and still higher, if they are fortunate enough to avoid the present ugly appearances; and yet how the load of odium will be increased, if they return to power! One can name many in whose situation one would not be,-not one who is not situated unpleasantly.
Adieu my dear lord; you shall hear as often as I can find a conveyance but these are not topics for the post! Poor Mrs. Fitzroy has lost her eldest girl. I forgot to tell you that the young Duke of Devonshire goes to court to-morrow. Yours ever.
Wednesday evening.
I am forced to send you journals rather than letters. Mr. Craufurd, who was to carry this, has put off his journey till Saturday, and I choose rather to defer my despatch than trust it to Guerchy’s courier, though he offered me that conveyance yesterday, but it is too serious to venture to their inspection.
Such precautions have been taken, and so many troops brought into town, that there has been no rising, though the sheriffs of London acquainted the Lords on Monday that a very formidable one was preparing for five o’clock the next morning. There was another tumult, indeed, at three o’clock yesterday, at Bedford-house, but it was dispersed by reading the Riot-act. In the mean time, the revolution has turned round again. The ministers desired the King to commission Lord Granby, the Duke of Richmond, and Lord Waldegrave, to suppress the riots, which, in truth, was little short of asking for the power of the sword against himself. On this, his Majesty determined to name the Duke of Cumberland captain-general but the tranquillity of the rioters happily gave H. R. H. occasion to persuade the King to suspend that resolution. Thank God! From eleven o’clock yesterday, when I heard it, till nine at night, when I learned that the resolution had dropped, I think I never passed such anxious hours! nay, I heard it was done, and looked upon the civil war as commenced. During these events, the Duke was endeavouring to form a ministry, but, luckily, nobody would undertake it when Mr. Pitt had refused so the King is reduced to the mortification, and it is extreme, of taking his old ministers again. They are insolent enough, you may believe. Grenville has treated his master in the most impertinent manner, and they are now actually digesting the terms that they mean to impose on their captive, and Lord Bute is the chief object of their rage; though I think Lord Holland will not escape, nor Lord Northumberland, whom they treat as an encourager of the rioters. Both he and my lady went on Monday night to Bedford-house, and were received with every mark of insult.(831) The Duke turned his back on the Earl, without speaking to him, and he was kept standing an hour exposed to all their railery. Still I have a more extraordinary event to tell you than all I have related. Lord Temple and George Grenville were reconciled yesterday morning, by the intervention of Augustus Hervey; and, perhaps, the next thing you wilt hear, may be that Lord Temple is sent by this ministry to Ireland, though Lord Weymouth is again much talked of for it.
The report of Norwich and Manchester weavers on the road is now doubted. If Lord Bute is banished, I suppose the Duke of Bedford will become the hero of this very mob, and every act of power which they (the ministers] have executed, let who will have been the adviser, will be forgotten. It will be entertaining to see Lord Temple supporting Lord Halifax on general warrants!
You have more than once seen your old master(832) reduced to surrender up his closet to a cabal–but never with such circumstances of insult, indignity, and humiliation! For our little party, it is more humbled than ever. Still I prefer that state to what I dread; I mean, seeing your brother embarked in a desperate administration. It was proposed first to make him secretary at war, then secretary of state, but he declined both. Yet I trembled, lest he should think bound in honour to obey the commands of the King and Duke of Cumberland; but, to my great joy, that alarm is over, unless the triumphant faction exact more than the King can possibly suffer. It will rejoice you, however, my dear lord, to hear that Mr. Conway is perfectly restored to the King’s favour; and that if he continues in opposition, it will not be against the King, but a most abominable faction, who, having raged against the constitution and their country to pay court to Lord Bute, have even thrown off that paltry mask, and avowedly hoisted the standard of their own power. Till the King has signed their demands, one cannot look upon this scene as closed.
Friday evening.
You will think, my dear lord, and it is natural you should, that I write my letters at once, and compose one part with my prophecies, and the other with the completion of them; but you must recollect that I understand this country pretty well,– attend closely to what passes,–have very good intelligence,–and know the characters of the actors thoroughly. A little sagacity added to such foundation, easily carries one’s sight a good way; but you will care for my narrative more than my reflections, so I proceed.
On Wednesday, the ministers dictated their terms; you will not expect much moderation, and, accordingly, there was not a grain: they demanded a royal promise of never consulting Lord Bute, Secondly, the dismission of Mr. Mckinsy from the direction of Scotland; thirdly, and lastly, for they could go no further, the crown itself–or, in their words the immediate nomination of Lord Granby to be captain-general. You may figure the King’s indignation–for himself, for his favourite, for his uncle. In my own opinion, the proposal of grounds for taxing his majesty himself hereafter with breaking his word,(833) was the bitterest affront of all. He expressed his anger and astonishment, and bade them return at ten at night for his answer; but, before that, he sent the Chancellor to the junta, consenting to displace Mekinsy,(834) refusing to promise not to consult Lord Bute, though acquiescing to his not interfering in business, but with a peremptory refusal to the article of Lord Granby. The rebels took till next morning to advise on their answer; when they gave up the point of Lord Granby, and contented themselves with the modification on the chapter of Lord Bute. However, not to be too complimentary, they demanded Mekinsy’s place for Lord Lorn,(835) and the instant removal of Lord Holland; both of which have been granted. Charles Townshend is paymaster, and Lord Weymouth viceroy of Ireland; so Lord Northumberland remains on the pav`e, which, as there is no place vacant for him, it was not necessary to stipulate. The Duchess of bedford, with colours flying, issued out of her garrison yesterday, and took possession of the drawing-room. To-day their majesties are gone to Woburn; but as the Duchess is a perfect Methodist against all suspicious characters, it is said, to-day, that Lord Talbot is to be added to the list of proscriptions, and now they think themselves established for ever.–Do they so? Lord Temple declares himself the warmest friend of the present administration;–there is a mystery still to be cleared up,–and, perhaps, a little to the mortification of Bedford-house.–We shall see.
The Duke of Cumberland is retired to Windsor: your brother gone to Park-place: I go to Strawberry to-morrow, lest people should not think me a great man too. I don’t know whether I shall not even think it necessary to order myself a fit of the gout.(836) I have received your short letter of the 16th, with the memorial of the family of Brebeuf;–now my head will have a little leisure, I will examine it,. and see if I can do any thing in the affair. In that letter you say, you have been a month without hearing from any of your friends. I little expected to be taxed on that head: I have written you volumes almost every day; my last dates have been of April 11th, 20th, May 5th, 12th, and 16th. I beg you will look over them, and send me word exactly, and I beg you not to omit it, whether any of these are missing. Three of them I trusted to Guerchy, but took care they should contain nothing which it signified whether seen or not on t’other side of the water, though I did not care they should be perused on this. I had the caution not to let him have this, though by the eagerness with which he proffered both to-day and yesterday, to send any thing by his couriers, I suspected he wished to help them to better intelligence than he could give them himself. He even told me he should have another courier depart on Tuesday next; but I excused myself, on the pretence of having too much to write at once, and shall send this, and a letter your brother has left me, by mr. Craufurd, though he does not set out till Sunday; but you had better wait for it from him, than from the Duc de Choiseul. Pray commend my discretion–you see I grow a consummate politician; but don’t approve of it too much, lest I only send you letters as prudent as your own.
You may acquaint Lady Holland with the dismission of her lord, if she has not heard it, he being at Kingsgate. Your secretary(837) is likely to be prime minister in Ireland. Two months ago the new Viceroy himself was going to France for debt, leaving his wife and children to be maintained by her mother.(838)
I will be much obliged to you, my dear lord, if you will contrive to pay Lady Stanhope for the medals; they cost, I think, but 4 pounds 7 shillings or thereabout–but I have lost the note.
Adieu! here ends volume the first. Omnia mutantur, sed non mutamur in illis. Princess Amelia, who has a little veered round to northwest, and by Bedford, does not speak tenderly of her brother–but if some families are reconciled, others are disunited. The Keppels are at open war with the Keppels, and Lady Mary Coke weeps with one eye over Lady Betty Mackinsy, and smiles with t’other on Lady Dalkeith;(839) but the first eye is the sincerest. The Duke of Richmond, in exactly the same proportion, is divided between his sisters, Holland and Bunbury.
Thank you much for your kindness about Mr. T. Walpole-I have not had a moment’s time to see him, but will do full justice to your goodness. Yours ever, H. W.
Pray remember the dates of my letters–you will be strangely puzzled for a clue, if one of them has miscarried. Sir Charles Bunbury is not to be secretary for Ireland, but Thurlow the lawyer:(840) they are to stay five years without returning. Lord Lorn has declined, and Lord Frederic Campbell is to be lord privy seal for Scotland. Lord Waldegrave, they say, chamberlain to the Queen.(841)
(831) From the family, not from the rioters.-C.
(832) George the Second.
(833) This alludes to the required promise not to consult Lord Bute.
(834) The Following is from Mr. Stuart Mackenzie’s own account of his removal, in the Mitchell MSS:–“They demanded certain terms, without which they declined coming in; the principal of which was, that I should be dismissed from the administration of the affairs of Scotland, and likewise from the office of privy seal. His Majesty answered, that as to the first, it would be no great punishment, he believed, to me, as I had never been very fond of the employment; but as to the second, I had his promise to continue it for life. Grenville replied to this purpose: ‘In that case, Sir, we must decline coming in.’–‘No,’ says the King, ‘I will not, on that account, put the whole kingdom in confusion, and leave it without a government at all; but I will tell you how that matter stands –that he has my royal word to continue in the office; and if you force me, from the situation of things, to violate my royal word, remember you are responsible for it, and not I.’ Upon that very solemn charge, Grenville answered, ‘Sir, we must make some arrangement for Mr. Mackenzie.’ The King answered, ‘If I know any thing of him, he will give himself very little trouble about your arrangements for him.’ His Majesty afterwards sent for me to his closet, where I was a very considerable time with him; and if it were possible for me to love my excellent prince now better than I ever did before, I should certainly do it; for I have every reason that can induce a generous mind to feel his goodness for me; but such was his Majesty’s situation at this time, that, had he absolutely rejected my dismission, he would have put me in the most disagreeable situation in the world; and, what was of much higher consequence, he would leave greatly distressed his affairs.”-E.
(835) John Marquis of Lorn, afterwards fifth Duke of Argyle; a lieutenant-general in the army: he was brother of (General Conway’s lady.-C.
(836) An allusion to Mr. Pitt.-C.
(837) Sir Charles Bunbury, secretary of embassy at Paris, was nominated secretary to Lord Weymouth, and held that office for about two months.-E.
(838) The straitened circumstances of Lord Weymouth made his nomination very unpopular in Ireland: he never went over.-C.
(839) In the recent arrangement, Lady Betty’s husband was, as we have seen, dismissed from, and Lady Dalkeith’s (Charles Townshend) acceded to, office.-C.
(840) This was a mistake.-E.
(841) This is the last of the series of letters written by Walpole to Lord Hertford: to the publication is subjoined the following postscript:-“The state of the administration, as described in the foregoing letters, could evidently not last; and after the failure of several attempts to induce Mr. Pitt to take the government on terms which the King could grant, the Duke of Cumberland, at his Majesty’s desire, succeeded in forming the Rockingham administration, in which General Conway was secretary of state and leader of the House of Commons, and Lord Hertford, lord lieutenant of Ireland. There can be little doubt, that during these transactions, Mr. Walpole (although he had in the interval a severe fit Of the gout) wrote to Lord Hertford, but no other letter of this series has been discovered; which is the more to be regretted, as the state of parties was it that moment particularly interesting. The refusal of Mr. Pitt raised the ministers to a pitch of confidence, (perhaps@, we might say, -arrogance,) which, as Mr. Walpole foresaw, accelerated their fall. So blind were they to their true situation, that Mr. Rigby, who was as deep as any man in the ministerial councils, writes to a private friend “I never thought, to tell you the truth, that we were in any danger from this last political cloud. The Duke of Cumberland’s political system, grafted upon the Earl of Bute’s stock, seems, of all others, the least capable of succeeding.’ This letter was written on the 7th of July, and on the 10th the new ministry was formed.”-C.
Letter 253 To George Montagu, Esq.
Strawberry Hill, May 26, 1765. (page 405)
If one of the one hundred events, and one hundredth part of the one hundred thousand reports that have passed, and been spread in this last month, have reached your solitary hill, you must be surprised at not a single word from me during that period. The number of events is my excuse. Though mine is the pen of a pretty ready writer, I could not keep pace with the revolution of each day, each hour. I had not time to begin the narrative, much less to finish it: no, I Must keep the whole to tell you at once, or to read it to you, for I think I shall write the history, which, let me tell you, Buckinger himself could not have crowded into a nutshell.
For your part, you will be content though the house of Montagu has not made an advantageous figure in this political warfare; yet it is crowned with victory, and laurels you know compensate for every scar. You went out of town frightened out of your senses at the giant prerogative: alack! he is grown so tame, that, as you said of our earthquake, you may stroke him.(842) The Regency-bill, not quite calculated with that intent, has produced four regents, King Bedford, king Grenville, King Halifax, and king Twitcher.(843) Lord Holland is turned out, and Stuart Mackenzie. Charles Townshend is paymaster, and Lord Bute annihilated; and all done without the help of the Whigs. You love to guess what one is going to say. Now you may what I am not going to say. your newspapers perhaps have given you a long roll of opposition names, who were coming into place, and so all the world thought; but the Wind turned quite round, and left them on the strand, and just where they were, except in opposition which is declared to be at an end. Enigma as all this may sound, the key would open it all to you in the twinkling of an administration. In the mean time we have family reconciliations without end. The King and the Duke of Cumberland have been shut up together day and night; Lord Temple and George Grenville are sworn brothers; well, but Mr. Pitt, where is he? In the clouds, for aught I know; in one of which he may descend like the kings of Bantam, and take quiet possession of the throne again.
As a thorough-bass to these squabbles, we have had an insurrection and a siege. Bedford-house, though garrisoned by horse and foot guards, was on the point of being taken. The besieged are in their turn triumphant; and, if any body now was to publish “Droit le Duc,”(844) I do not think the House of Lords would censure his book. Indeed the regents may do what they please, and turn out whom they will; I see nothing to resist them. Lord Bute will not easily be tempted to rebel when the last struggle has cost him so dear.
I am sorry for some of my friends, to whom I wished more fortune. For myself, I am but just where I should have been had they succeeded. It is satisfaction enough to me to be delivered from politics; which you know I have long detested. When I was tranquil enough to write Castles of Otranto in the midst of grave nonsense and foolish councils of war, I am not likely to disturb myself with the diversions of the court where I am not connected with a soul. As it has proved to be the interest of the present ministers, however contrary to their torturer views, to lower the crown, they will scarce be in a hurry to aggrandize it again. That will satisfy you; and I, you know, am satisfied if I have any thing to laugh at–’tis a lucky age for a man who is so easily contented!
The poor Chute has had another relapse, but is out of bed again. I am thinking of my journey to France; but, as Mr. Conway has a mind I should wait for him, I don’t know whether it will take place before the autumn. I will by no means release you from your promise of making me a visit here before I go.
Poor Mr. Bentley, I doubt, is under the greatest difficulties of any body. His poem, which he modestly delivered over to immortality, must be cut and turned; for Lord Halifax and Lord Bute cannot sit in the same canto together; then the horns and hoofs that he had bestowed on Lord Temple must be pared away, and beams of glory distributed over his whole person. ‘Tis a dangerous thing to write political panegyrics or satires; it draws the unhappy bard into a thousand scrapes and contradictions. The edifices and inscriptions at Stowe should be a lesson not to erect monuments to the living. I will not place an ossuarium in my garden for my cat, before her bones are ready to be placed in it. I hold contradictions to be as essential to the definition of a political man, as any visible or featherless quality can be to man in general. Good night!