Books: Letters of Horace Walpole, V4

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Well, I am glad you have been entertained, and seen such a
variety of sights. You don't mind fatigues and hardships, and
hospitality, the two extremes that to me poison travelling. I
shall never see any thing more, unless I meet with a ring that
renders one invisible. It was but the other day that, being
with George Selwyn at Gloucester, I Went to view Berkeley
Castle, knowing the Earl was to dine with the mayor of
Gloucester. Alas! when I arrived, he had put off the party to
enjoy his militia a day longer, and the house was full of
officers. They might be in the Hungarian dress, for aught I
knew; for I was so dismayed, that I would"fain have persuaded
the housekeeper that she could not show me the apartments; and
when she opened the hall, and I saw it full of captains, I hid
myself in a dark passage, and nothing could persuade me to
enter, till they had the civility to quit the place. When I
was forced at last to go over the castle, I ran through it
without seeing any thing, as if I had been afraid of being
detained prisoner.

I have no news to send you: if I had any, I would not conclude,
as all correspondents do, that Lady Ailesbury left nothing
Untold. Lady Powis is gone to hold mobs at Ludlow, where there
is actual war, and where a knight, I forget his name, one of
their friends, has been almost cut in two with a scythe. When
you have seen all the armies in Europe, you will be just in
time for many election-battles--perhaps, for a war in America,
whither more troops are going. Many of those already sent have
deserted; and to be sure the- prospect there is not smiling.
Apropos, Lord Mahon,(127) whom Lord Stanhope, his father, will
not suffer to wear powder because wheat is so dear, was
presented t'other day in coal-black hair and a white feather:
they said, "he had been tarred and feathered."

In France you will find a new scene.(128) The Chancellor is
sent, a little before his time, to the devil. The old
Parliament is expected back. I am sorry to say I shall not
meet you there. It will be too late in the year for me to
venture, especially as I now live in dread of my biennial gout,
and should die of it in an h`otel garni, and forced to receive
all comers--I, who you know lock myself up when I am ill as if
I had the plague.

I wish I could fill my sheet, in return for your five pages.
The only thing-you will care for knowing is, that I never saw
Mrs. Damer better in her life, nor look so well. You may trust
me, who am so apt to be frightened about her.

(125) Mr. Conway had gone to see the gold and silver mines of
cremnitz, in the neighbourhood of Grau, in Hungary.

(126) Mr. Hans Stanley.

(127) Charles Viscount Mahon, born on the 3d of August 1753.
In the following December, he married Lady Hester Pitt, eldest
daughter of the Earl of Chatham. He succeeded his father, as
third Earl Stanhope, in March 1786, and died in 1816.-E.

(128) In Consequence of the death of Louis XV. on the 10th of
May.-E.

Letter 73 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, Sept. 27, 1774. (page 101)

I should be very ungrateful indeed if I thought of complaining
of you, who are goodness itself to me: and when I did not
receive letters from 'you, I concluded it happened from your
eccentric positions. I am amazed, that hurried as YOU have
been, and your eyes and thoughts- crowded with objects, you
have been able to find time to write me so many and such long
letters, over and above all those to Lady, Ailesbury, your
daughter, brother, and other friends. Even Lord Strafford
brags of your frequent remembrance. That your superabundance
of royal beams would dazzle you, I never suspected. Even I
enjoy for you the distinctions you have received--though I
should hate such things for myself, as they are particularly
troublesome to me,'and I am particularly awkward under them,
and as I abhor the King of Prussia, and if I passed through
Berlin, should have no joy like avoiding him--like one of our
countrymen, who changed horses at Paris, and asked what the
name of that town was? All the other civilities you have
received I am perfectly happy in. The Germans are certainly a
civil, well-meaning people, and, I believe, one of the least
corrupted nations in Europe. I do not think them very
agreeable; but who do I think are so? A great many French
women, some English men, and a few English women; exceedingly
few French men. Italian women are the grossest, vulqarest of
the sex. If an Italian man has a grain of sense, he is a
buffoon. So much for Europe!

I have already told you, and so must Lady Ailesbury, that my
courage fails me, and I dare not meet you at Paris, As the
period arrived when the gout used to come, it is never a moment
out of my head. Such a suffering, such a helpless condition as
I was in for five months and a half, two years ago, makes me
tremble from head to foot. I should die at once if seized in a
French inn; or, what, if possible, would be worse, at Paris,
where I must admit every body.--I, who you know can hardly bear
to see even you when I am ill, and who shut up myself here, and
would not let Lord and Lady Hertford come near me--I, who have
my room washed though in bed, how could I bear French dirt! In
short, I, who am so capricious, and whom you are pleased to
call a philosopher, I suppose because I have given up every
thing but my own will--how could I keep my temper, who have no
way of keeping my temper but by keeping it out of every body's
way! No, I must give up the satisfaction of being with you at
Paris. I have just learnt to give up my pleasures, but I
cannot give up my pains, which such selfish people as I who
have suffered much, grow to compose into a system that they are
partial to, because it is their own. I must make myself amends
when you return: you will be more stationary, I hope, for the
future; and if I live I shall have intervals of health. In
lieu of me, you will have a charming succedaneum, Lady Harriet
Stanhope.(129) Her father, who is more a hero than i, is
packing up his old decrepit bones, and goes too. I wish she
may not have him to nurse, instead of diverting herself.

The present state of your country is, that it is drowned and
dead drunk; all water without, and wine within. Opposition for
the next elections every where, even in Scotland; not from
party, but as laying Out money to advantage. In the
head-quarters, indeed, party is not out of the question: the
day after to-morrow will be a great bustle in the city for a
Lord Mayor,(130) and all the winter in Westminster, where Lord
Mahon and Humphrey Cotes oppose the court. Lady Powis is
saving her money at Ludlow and Powis Castles by keeping open
house day and night against Sir Watkin Williams, and fears she
shall be kept there till the general election. It has rained
this whole month, and we have got another inundation. The
Thames is as broad as your Danube, and all my meadows are under
water. Lady Browne and I, coming last Sunday night from Lady
Blandford's, were in a piteous plight. The ferryboat was
turned round by the current, and carried to Isleworth. Then we
ran against the piers of our new bridge, and the horses were
frightened. Luckily, my cicisbeo -was a Catholic, and screamed
to so many Saints, that some of them at the nearest alehouse
came and saved us, or I should have had no more gout, or what I
dreaded I should; for I concluded we should be carried ashore
somewhere, and be forced to wade through the mud up to my
middle. So you see one may wrap oneself up in flannel and be
in danger, without visiting all the armies on the face of the
globe, and putting the immortality of one's chaise to the
proof.

I am ashamed Of sending you three sides of smaller paper in
answer to seven large--but what can I do? I see nothing, know
nothing, do nothing. My castle is finished, I have nothing new
to read, I am tired of writing, I have no new or old bit for my
printer. I have only black hoods around me; or, if I go to
town, the family-party in Grosvenor Street. One trait will
give you a sample of how I passed my time, and made me laugh,
as it put me in mind of you; at least it was a fit of absence,
much more likely to have happened to you than to me. I was
playing eighteenpenny tredrille with the Duchess of
Newcastle(131) and Lady Browne, and certainly not much
interested in the game. I cannot recollect nor conceive what I
was thinking of, but I pushed the cards very gravely to the
Duchess, and said, "Doctor, you are to deal." You may guess at
their astonishment, and how much it made us all laugh. I wish
it may make you smile a moment, or that I had any thing better
to send you. Adieu, most affectionately. Yours ever.

(129) a Daughter of the Earl of Harrington. Her ladyship was
married, in 1776, to Thomas second Lord Foley.-E.

(130) When Mr. Wilkes was elected.

(131) Catherine, eldest daughter and heiress of the Right Hon.
Henry Pelham, married to Henry ninth Earl of Lincoln; who, in
consequence of his marriage with her, inherited in 1768, the
dukedom of Newcastle-under-Line on the demise of the Countess's
uncle, Thomas Pelham Holles, Who had been created Duke of
Newcastle.under-Line, with special remainder to the Earl of
Lincoln , in 1756 _E.

Letter 74 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, Sept. 28, 1774. (page 103)

Lady Ailesbury brings you this,(132) which is not a letter, but
a paper of direction, and the counterpart of what I have
written to Madame du Deffand. I beg of you seriously to take a
great deal of notice of this dear old friend of mine. She
will, perhaps, expect more attention
from you, as my friend, and as it is her own nature a little,
than will be quite convenient to you: but you have an infinite
deal of patience and good-nature, and will excuse it. I was
afraid of her importuning Madame Ailesbury, who has a vast deal
to see and do, and, therefore, I prepared Madame du Deffand,
and told her Lady Ailesbury loves amusements, and that, having
never been at Paris before, she must not confine her: so you
must pay for both--and it will answer: and- I do not, I own,
ask this Only for Madame du Deffand's sake, but for my own, and
a little for yours. Since the late King's death she has not
dared to write to me freely, and I want to know the present
state of 'France exactly, both to satisfy my Own curiosity, and
for her sake, as- I wish to learn whether her, pension, etc. is
in any danger from the present ministry, some of whom are not
her friends. She can tell you a great deal if she will--by
that I don't mean that she is reserved, or partial to, her Own
country against ours--quite the contrary; she loves me better
than all France together--but she hates politics; and
therefore, to make her talk on it, you must tell her it is to
satisfy me, and that I want to know whether she is well at
court, whether she has any fears from the government,
particularly Maurepas and Nivernois: and that I am eager to
have Monsieur do Choiseul and ma grandmaman, the Duchess,
restored to power. If you take it on this foot easily, she
will talk to you with the utmost frankness and with amazing
cleverness. I have told her you are strangely absent, and
that, if she does not repeat it over and over, you will forget
every syllable; so I have prepared her to joke and be quite
familiar with you at once.(133) She knows more of personal
characters, and paints them better, than any body: but let this
be between ourselves, for I would not have a living soul
suspect, that I get any intelligence from her, which would hurt
her; and, therefore, I beg you not to let any human being know
of this letter, nor of your conversation with her, neither
English nor French.

Madame du Deffand hates les philosophes; so you must give them
up to her. She and Madame Geoffrin are no friends: so, if you
go thither, don't tell her of it. Indeed, you would be sick of
that house, whither all pretended beaux esprits and faux
savants go, and where they are very impertinent and dogmatic.

Let me give you one other caution, which I shall give to Lady
Ailesbury too. Take care of your papers at Paris, and have a
very strong lock to your porte-feuille. In the h`otels garnis
they have double keys to every lock, and examine every drawer
and paper of the English they can get at. They will pilfer,
too, whatever they can. I was robbed of half my clothes there
the first time, and they wanted to hang poor Louis to save the
people of the house who had stolen the things.

Here is another thing I must say. Madame du Deffand has kept a
great many of my letters, and, as she is very old, I am in pain
about them. I have written to her to beg she will deliver them
up to you to bring back to me, and I trust she Will.(134) If
she does, be so good to take great care of them. If she does
not mention them, tell her before you come away, that I begged
you to bring them; and if she hesitates, convince her how it
would hurt me to have letters written in very bad French, and
mentioning several people, both French and English, fall into
bad hands, and, perhaps, be printed.

Let me desire you to read this letter more than once, that you
may not forget my requests, which are very important to me; and
I must give you one other caution, without which all would be
useless.

There is at Paris a Mademoiselle de l,Espinasse,(135) a
pretended bel esprit, who was formerly an humble companion of
Madame du Deffand; and betrayed her and used her very ill. I
beg of you not to let any body carry you thither. It Would
disoblige my friend of all things in the world, and she would
never tell you a syllable; and I own it would hurt me, who have
such infinite obligations to her, that I should be very unhappy
if a particular friend of mine showed her this disregard. She
has done every thing upon earth to please and serve me, and I
owe it to her to be earnest about this attention. Pray do not
mention it; it might look simple in me, and yet I owe it to
her, as I know it would hurt her, and, at her age, with her
misfortunes, and with infinite obligations on my side, can I do
too much to show My gratitude, or prevent her any new
mortification? I dwell upon it, because she has some enemies so
spiteful that they try to carry all English to Mademoiselle de
l'Espinasse.

I wish the Duchess of Choiseul may come to Paris while you are
there; but I fear she will not; you would like her of all
things. She has more sense and more virtues than almost any
human being. If you choose to see any of the savans, let me
recommend Monsieur Buffon. He has not only much more sense
than any of them, but is an excellent old man, humane, gentle,
well-bred, and with none of the arrogant pertness of all the
rest. if he is at Paris, you will see a good deal of the Comte
d e Broglie at Madame du Deffand's. He is not a genius of the
first water, but lively and sometimes agreeable. The court, I
fear, will be at Fontainbleau, which will prevent your seeing
many, unless you go thither. Adieu! at Paris! I leave the rest
of my paper for England, if I happen to have any thing
particular to tell you.

(132) Mr. Conway ended is military tour at Paris; whither Lady
Ailesbury and Mrs. Damer went to meet him, and where they spent
the winter together.

(133) In her letter to Walpole, of the 28th of October, Madame
du Deffand draws the following portrait of General Conway:--
"Selon l'id`ee que vous m'en aviez donn`ee, je le croyais
grave, s`ev`ere, froid, imposant; c'est l'homme le plus
aimable, le plus facile, le plus doux, le plus obligeant, et le
plus simple que je connaisse. Il n'a pas ces premiers
mouvemens de sensibilit`e qu'on trouve en vous, mais aussi
n'a-t-il pas votre humeur."-E.

(134) To this request Madame du Deffand replied--"Je ne me
flatte point de vous revoir l'ann`ee prochaine, et le renvoi
que vous voulez que je vous fasse de vos lettres est ce qui
m'en fait denier. Ne serait-il pas plus naturel, si vous
deviez venir, que je vous les rendisse `a vous-m`eme? car vous
ne pensez pas que je ne puisse vivre encore un an. Vous me
faites croire, Par votre m`efiance, que vous avez en vue
d'effacer toute trace de votre intelligence avec Moi."-E.

(135) Mademoiselle de l'Espinasse, the friend of D'Alembert,
born at Lyons in 1732, was the natural child of Mademoiselle
d'Albon, whose legitimate daughter was married to the Marquis
de Vichy. After the death of her mother, she resided with
Monsieur and Madame de Vichy; but in consequence of some
disagreements, left them, and in May
1754, went to reside with Madame du Deffand, with whom she
remained until 1764. The letters of Mademoiselle de
l'Espinasse were published some few years since.-E.

Letter 75 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, Oct. 11, 1774. (page 105)

Dear Sir,
I answer yours immediately; as one pays a shilling to clench a
bargain, when one suspects the seller. I accept your visit in
the last week of this month, and will prosecute you if you do
not execute. I have nothing to say about elections, but that I
congratulate myself ,every time I feel I have nothing to do
with them. By my nephew's strange conduct about his boroughs,
and by many other reasons, I doubt whether he is so well as he
seemed to Dr. Barnardiston. It is a subject I do not love to
talk on; but I know I tremble every time the bell rings at my
gate at an unusual hour.

Have you seen Mr. Granger's Supplement? Methinks it grows too
diffuse. I have hinted to him that fewer panegyrics from
funeral orations would not hurt it. Adieu!

Letter 76 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, Sunday, Oct. 16, 1774. (page 106)

I received this morning your letter of the 6th from Strasburg;
and before you get this you will have had three from me by Lady
Ailesbury. One of them should have reached you much sooner;
but Lady Ailesbury kept it, not being sure where you was. It
was in answer to one in which you told me an anecdote, which in
this last you ask if I had received.

Your letters are always so welcome to me, that you certainly
have no occasion for excusing what you say or do not say. Your
details amuse me, and so would what you suppress; for, though I
have no military genius or curiosity, whatever relates to
yourself must interest me. The honours you have received,
though I have so little taste for such things myself, gave me
great satisfaction; and I do not know whether there is not more
pleasure in not being a prophet in one's own country, when one
is almost received like Mahomet in every other. To be an idol
at home, is no assured touchstone of merit. Stocks and stones
have been adored in fifty regions, but do not bear
transplanting. The Apollo Belvidere and the Hercules Farnese
may lose their temples, but never lose their estimation, by
travelling.

Elections, you may be sure, are the only topic here at
present--I mean in England--not on this quiet hill, where I
think of them as little as of the spot where the battle of
Blenheim was fought. They say there will not be much
alteration, but the phoenix will rise from its ashes with most
of its old plumes, or as bright. Wilkes at first seemed to
carry all before him, besides having obtained the mayoralty of
London at last. Lady Hertford told me last Sunday, that he
would carry twelve members. I have not been in town since, nor
know any thing but what I collect from the papers; so. if my
letter is opened, M. de Vergennes will not amass any very
authentic intelligence from my despatches.

What I have taken notice of, is as follows: For the city Wilkes
will have but three members: he will lose Crosby, and Townsend
will carry Oliver. In Westminster, Wilkes will not have one;
his Humphrey Cotes is by far the lowest on the poll; Lord Percy
and Lord T. Clinton are triumphant there. Her grace of
Northumberland sits at a window in Covent-garden, harangues the
mob, and is "Hail, fellow, well met!" At Dover, Wilkes has
carried one, and probably will come in for Middlesex himself
with Glynn. There have been great endeavours to oppose him,
but to no purpose. Of this I am glad, for I do not love a mob
so near as Brentford especially, as my road lies through it.
Where he has any other interest I am too ignorant in these
matters to tell you. Lord John Cavendish is opposed at York,
and at the beginning of the poll had the fewest numbers.
Charles Fox, like the ghost in Hamlet, has shifted to many
quarters; but in most the cock crew, and he walked off.(136) In
Southwark there has been outrageous rioting; but I neither know
the candidates, their connexions, nor success. This, perhaps,
will appear a great deal of news at Paris: here, I dare to say,
my butcher knows more.

I can tell you still less of America. There are two or three
more ships with forces going thither, and Sir William Draper as
second in command.

Of private news, except that Dyson has had a stroke of palsy
and will die, there is certainly none; for I saw that shrill
Morning Post, Lady Greenwich, two hours ago, and she did not
Know a paragraph.

I forgot to mention to you M. de Maurepas. He was by far the
ablest and most agreeable man I knew at Paris: and if you stay,
I think I could take the liberty of giving you a letter to him;
though, as he is now so great a man, and I remain so little an
one, I don't know whether it would be quite so proper--though
he was exceedingly good to me, and pressed me often to make him
a visit in the country. But Lord Stormont can certainly carry
you to him--a better passport.

There was one of my letters on which I wish to hear from you.
There are always English coming from Paris, who would bring
such a parcel: at least, you might send me one volume at a
time, and the rest afterwards: but I should not care to have
them ventured by the common conveyance. Madame du Deffand is
negotiating for an enamel picture for me; but, if she obtains
it, I had rather wait for it till you come. The books I mean,
are those I told you Lady Ailesbury and Mrs. Damer would give
you a particular account of, for they know my mind exactly.
Don't reproach me with not meeting you at Paris. Recollect
what I suffered this time two years; and, if you can have any
notion of fear, imagine my dread of torture for five months and
a half! When all the quiet of Strawberry did but just carry me
through it, could I support it in the noise of a French hotel!
and, what would be still worse, exposed to receive all visits?
for the French, you know, are never mor in public than in the
act of death. I am like animals, and love to hide myself when
I am dying. Thank God, I am now two days beyond the crisis
when I expected my dreadful periodic visitant, and begin to
grow very sanguine about the virtue of the bootikins. I shall
even have courage to go to-morrow to Chalfont for two days, as
it is but a journey of two hours. I would not be a day's
journey from hence for all Lord Clive's diamonds. This will
satisfy you. I doubt Madame du Deffand is not so easily
convinced--therefore, pray do not drop a hint before her of
blaming me for not meeting you rather assure her you are
persuaded it would have been too great a risk for me at this
season. I wish to have her quite clear of my attachment to
her; but that I do not always find so easy. You, I am sure,
will find her all zeal and entpressement for you and yours.
Adieu! Yours ever.

(136) Mr. Fox was returned for Malmesbury.-E.

Letter 77 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, Oct. 29, 1774. (page 108)

I have received your letter of the 23d, and it certainly
overpays me, when you thank instead of scolding me, as I
feared. A passionate man has very little merit in being in a
passion, and is sure of saying many things he repents, as I do.
I only hope you think that I could not be so much in the wrong
for every body; nor should have been, perhaps, even for you, if
I had not been certain I was the only person, at that moment,
that could serve you essentially: and at such a crisis, I am
sure I should take exactly the same part again, except in
saying some things I did, of which I am ashamed!(137) I will
say no more now on that topic, nor on any thing relating to it,
because I have written my mind very fully, and you will know it
soon. I can only tell you now, that I approve extremely your
way of thinking, and hope you will not change it before you
hear from me, and know some material circumstances. You and
Lady Ailesbury and I agree exactly, and she and I certainly
consider only you. I do not answer her last, because I could
not help telling you how very kindly I take your letter. All I
beg is, that you would have no delicacy about my serving you
any way. You know it is a pleasure to me: any body else may
have views that would embarrass you; and, therefore, till you
are on the spot, and can judge for yourself (which I always
insist on, because you are cooler than I, and because, though I
have no interests to serve, I have passions, which equally
mislead one,) it will be wiser to decline all kind of proposals
and offers. You will avoid the plague of contested elections
and solicitations: and I see no reasons, at present, that can
tempt you to be in a hurry.(138)