Books: Letters of Horace Walpole, V4

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(364) Son of Nicholas Hardinge, Esq. one of the joint secretaries
of the treasury, and member for the borough of Eye. He was
educated at Eton school, and finished his studies at Trinity
College, Cambridge, where Dr. Watson was his tutor, He was called
to the bar in 1769, and was subsequently appointed solicitor-
general to the Queen. in 1787, he was made a Welsh judge, and
died in 1816. In 1818, the works of this clever and eccentric
scholar were published, with an account of his life, by Mr. John
Nichols.-E.

Letter 176 To The Countess Of Ailesbury.
Saturday night, July 10, 1779. (page 230)

I could not thank your ladyship before the post went out to-day,
as I was getting into my chaise to go and dine at Carshalton with
my cousin Thomas Walpole when I received your kind inquiry about
my eye. It is quite well again, and I hope the next attack of
the gout will be any where rather than in that quarter.

I did not expect Mr. Conway would think of returning just now.
As you have lost both Mrs. Damer and Lady William Campbell, I do
not see why your ladyship should not go to Goodwood.

The Baroness's increasing peevishness does not surprise me. When
people will not weed their own minds, they are apt to be overrun
with nettles. She knows nothing of politics, and no wonder talks
nonsense about them. It is silly to wish three nations had but
one neck; but it is ten times more absurd to act as if it was so,
which the government has done;--ay, and forgetting, too, that it
has not a scimitar large enough to sever that neck, which they
have in effect made one. It is past the time, Madam, of making
Conjectures. How can one guess whither France and Spain will
direct a blow that is in their option? I am rather inclined to
think that they will have patience to ruin us in detail.
Hitherto France and America have carried their points by that
manoeuvre. Should there be an engagement at sea, and the French
and Spanish fleets, by their great superiority, have the
advantage, one knows not what might happen. Yet, though there
are such large preparations making on the French coast, I do not
much expect a serious invasion, as they are sure they can do us
more damage by a variety of other attacks, where we can make
little resistance. Gibraltar and Jamaica can but be the
immediate objects of Spain. Ireland is much worse guarded than
this island:--nay, we must be undone by our expense, should the
summer pass without any attempt. My cousin thinks they will try
to destroy Portsmouth and Plymouth--but I have seen nothing in
the present
French ministry that looks like bold enterprise. We are much
more adventurous, that set every thing to the hazard: but there
are such numbers of baronesses that both talk and act with
passion, that one would think the nation had lost its senses.
Every thing has miscarried that has been undertaken, and the
worse we succeed, the more is risked;--yet the nation is not
angry! How can one conjecture during such a delirium? I
sometimes almost think I must be in the wrong to be of so
contrary an opinion to most men--yet, when every Misfortune that
has happened had been foretold by a few, why should I not think I
have been in the right? Has not almost every single event that
has been announced as prosperous proved a gross falsehood, and
often a silly one? Are we not at this moment assured that
Washington cannot possibly amass an army of above 8000 men! and
yet Clinton, with 20,000 men, and with the hearts, as we are
told, too, of three parts of the colonies, dares not show his
teeth without the walls of New York? Can I be in the wrong in not
believing what is so contradictory to my senses We could not
Conquer America when it stood alone; then France supported it,
and we did not mend the matter. To make it still easier, we have
driven Spain into the alliance. Is this wisdom? Would it be
presumption, even if one were single, to think that we must have
the worst in such a contest? Shall I be like the mob, and expect
to conquer France and Spain, and then thunder upon America? Nay,
but the higher mob do not expect such success. They would not be
so angry at the house of Bourbon, if not morally certain that
those kings destroy all our passionate desire and expectation of
conquering America. We bullied, and threatened, and begged, and
nothing would do. Yet independence was still the word. Now we
rail at the two monarchs--and when they have banged us, we shall
sue to them as humbly as We did to the Congress. All this my
senses, such as they are, tell me has been and will be the case.
What is worse, all Europe is of the same opinion; and though
forty thousand baronesses may be ever SO angry, I venture to
prophesy that we shall make but a very foolish figure whenever we
are so lucky as to obtain a peace; and posterity, that may have
prejudices of its own, will still take the liberty to pronounce,
that its ancestors were a woful set of politicians from the year
1774 to--I wish I knew when.

If I might advise, I would recommend Mr. Burrell to command the
fleet in the room of Sir Charles Hardy. The fortune of the
Burrells is powerful enough to baffle calculation. Good night,
Madam!

P. S. I have not written to Mr. Conway since this day sevennight,
not having a teaspoonful of news to send him. I will beg your
ladyship to tell him so.

Letter 177 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, July 12, 1779. (page 231)

I am concerned, dear sir, that you gave yourself the trouble of
transcribing the catalogue and prices, which I received last
night, and for which I am exceedingly obliged to you. Partial as
I am to the pictures at Houghton, I confess I think them much
overvalued. My father's whole collection, of which alone he had
preserved the prices, cost but 40,000 pounds; and after his death
there were three sales of pictures, among which were all the
whole-lengths of Vandyke but three, which had been sent to
Houghton, but not fitting any of the ,spaces left, came back to
town. Few of the rest sold were very fine, but no doubt Sir
Robert had paid as dear for many of them; as purchasers are not
perfect connoisseurs at first. Many of the valuations are not
only exorbitant, but injudicious. They who made the estimate
seem to have considered the rarity of the hands more than the
excellence. Three-The, Magi's Offering, by Carlo Maratti, as it
is called, and two supposed Paul Veronese,-are very indifferent
copies, and yet all are roundly valued, and the first
ridiculously. I do not doubt of another picture in the
collection but the Last Supper, by Raphael, and yet this is set
down at 500 pounds. I miss three pictures, at least they are not
set down, the Sir Thomas Wharton, and Laud and Gibbons. The
first is most capital; yes, I recollect I have had some doubts on
the Laud, though the University of Oxford once offered 400 pounds
for it--and if Queen Henrietta is by Vandyke, it is a very
indifferent One. The affixing a higher value to the Pietro
Cortona than to the octagon Guido is most absurd--I have often
gazed on the latter, and preferred it even to the Doctor's. In
short, the appraisers were determined to see what the Czarina
Could give, rather than what the pictures were really worth--I am
glad she seems to think so, for I hear no more of the sale--it is
not very wise in me still to concern myself, at my age, about
what I have SO little interest in-it is still less wise to be so
anxious on trifles, when one's country is sinking. I do not know
which is most Mad, my nephew, or our ministers--both the one and
the other increase my veneration for the founder of Houghton!

I will not rob you of the prints you mention, dear Sir; one of
them at least I know Mr. Pennant gave me. I do not admire him
for his punctiliousness with you. Pray tell me the name Of your
glass-painter; I do not think I shall want him, but it is not
impossible. Mr. Essex agreed With me, that Jarvis's windows for
Oxford, after Sir Joshua Reynolds, will not succeed. Most of his
colours are opake, and their great beauty depending on a spot of
light for Sun or moon, is an imposition. When his paintings are
exhibited at Charing-cross, all the rest of the room is darkened
to relieve them. That cannot be done at New College; or if done,
the chapel would be too dark. If there are other lights, the
effect will be lost.

This sultry weather will, I hope, quite restore YOU; People need
not go to Lisbon and Naples, if we continue to have such summers.
Yours most sincerely.

Letter 178 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, August 12, 1779. (page 232)

I write from decency, dear Sir, not from having any thing
particular to say, but to thank you for your offer of letting me
see the arms of painted glass; which, however, I will decline,
lest it should be broken, and as at present I have no occasion to
employ the painter. If I build my offices, perhaps I may have;
but I have dropped that thought for this year. The disastrous
times do not inspire expense. Our alarms, I conclude, do not
ruffle your hermitage. We are returning to our state of
islandhood, and shall have little, I believe, to boast but of
what we have been.

I see a History of Alien Priories announced;(365) do you know any
thing of it, or of the author? I am ever yours.

(365) This was Mr. Gough's well-known work, entitled "Some
Account of the Alien Priories, and of such Lands as they are
known to have possessed in England and Wales," in two volumes
octavo.-E.

Letter 179 To The Countess Of Ailesbury.
Strawberry Hill, Friday night, 1779. (page 233)

I am not at all surprised, my dear Madam, at the intrepidity of
Mrs. Damer;(366) she always was the heroic daughter of a hero.
Her sense and coolness never forsake her. I, who am not so firm,
shuddered at your ladyship's account. Now that she has stood
fire for four hours, I hope she will give as clear proofs of her
understanding, of which I have as high opinion as of her courage,
and not return in any danger.

I am to dine at Ditton to-morrow, and will certainly talk on the
subject You recommend; yet I am far, till I have heard more, from
thinking with your ladyship, that more troops and artillery at
Jersey would be desirable. Any considerable quantity of either,
especially of the former, cannot be spared at this moment, when
so big a cloud 'hangs over this island, nor would any number
avail if the French should be masters at sea. A large garrison
would but tempt the French thither, were it but to distress this
country; and, what is worse, would encourage Mr. Conway to make
an impracticable defence. If he is to remain in a situation so
unworthy of him, I confess I had rather he was totally incapable
of making any defence. I love him enough not to murmur at his
exposing himself where his country and his honour demand him; but
I would not have him measure himself in a place untenable against
very superior force. My present comfort is, as to him, that
France at this moment has a far vaster object. I have good
reason to believe the government knows that a great army is ready
to embark at St. Maloes, but will not stir till after a
sea-fight, which we do not know but may be engaged at this
moment. Our fleet is allowed to be the finest ever set forth by
this country; but it is inferior in number by seventeen ships to
the united squadron of the Bourbons. France, if successful,
means to pour in a vast many thousands on us, and has threatened
to burn the capital itself, Jersey, my dear Madam, does not enter
into a calculation of such magnitude. The moment is singularly
awful; yet the vaunts of enemies are rarely executed successfully
and ably. Have we trampled America under our foot?

You have too good sense, Madam, to be imposed upon by my
arguments, if they are insubstantial. You do know that I have
had my terrors for Mr. Conway; but at present they are out of the
question, from the insignificance of his island. DO not listen
to rumours, nor believe a single one till it has been canvassed
over and over. Fear, folly, fifty Motives, Will coin new reports
every hour at such a conjuncture. When one is totally void of
credit and power, patience is the only wisdom. I have seen
dangers still more imminent. They were dispersed. Nothing
happens in proportion to what is meditated. Fortune, whatever
fortune is, is more constant than is the common notion. I do not
give this as one of my solid arguments, but I have encouraged
myself in being superstitious on the favourable side. I never,
like most superstitious people, believe auguries against my
wishes. We have been fortunate in the escape of Mrs. Damer, and
in the defeat at Jersey even before Mr. Conway arrived-, and
thence I depend on the same future prosperity. From the
authority of persons who do not reason on such airy hopes, I am
seriously persuaded, that if the fleets engage, the enemy will
not gain advantage without deep-felt loss, enough probably to
dismay their invasion. Coolness may succeed, and then
negotiation. Surely, if we, can weather the summer, we shall,
obstinate as we are against conviction, be compelled by the want
of money to relinquish our ridiculous pretensions, now proved to
be utterly impracticable; for, with an inferior navy at home, can
we assert sovereignty over America? It is a contradiction in,
terms and in fact. It may be hard of digestion to relinquish it,
but it is impossible to pursue it. Adieu, my dear Madam! I have
not left room for a line more.

(366) The packet in which she was crossing from Dover to Ostend
was taken by a French frigate, after a running fight of several
hours.

Letter 180 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, Sept. 13, 1779. (page 234)

I am writing to you at random; not knowing whether or when this
letter will go: but your brother told me last night that an
officer, whose name I have forgot, was arrived from Jersey, and
would return to you soon. I am sensible how very seldom I have
written to you-but you have been few moments out of my thoughts.
What they have been, you who know me so minutely may well guess,
and why they do not pass my lips. Sense, experience,
circumstances, can teach One to command one's self. outwardly,
but do not divest a most friendly heart of its feelings. I
believe the state of my Mind has contributed to bring on a very
weak and decaying body my present disorders. I have not been
well the whole summer; but for these three weeks much otherwise.
It has at last ended in the gout, which to all appearance will be
a short fit.

On public affairs I cannot speak. Every thing is so exaggerated
on all sides, that what grains of truth remain in the sieve would
appear cold and insipid; and the great manoeuvres you learn as
soon as I. In the naval battle between Byron and D'Estaing, our
captains were worthy of any age in our story.

You may imagine how happy I am at Mrs. Damer's return, and at her
not being at Naples, as she was likely to have been, at the
dreadful explosion of Vesuvius.(367) Surely it will have glutted
Sir William's rage for volcanoes! How poor Lady Hamilton's nerves
stood it I do not conceive. Oh, mankind! mankind! Are there not
calamities enough in store for us, but must destruction be our
amusement and pursuit?

I send this to Ditton,(368) where it may wait some days; but I
would not suffer a sure opportunity to slip without a line. You
are more obliged to me for all I do not say, than for whatever
eloquence itself could pen.

P. S. I unseal my letter to add, that undoubtedly you will come
to the Meeting of Parliament, which will be in October. Nothing
can or ever did make me advise you to take a step unworthy of
yourself. But surely you have higher and more sacred duties than
the government of a mole-hill!

(367) On the 10th of August when the eruption was so great, that
several villages were destroyed; a hunting seat belonging to the
King of Naples, called Caccia Bella, shared the like fate.-E.

(368) Where Lord Hertford had then a
villa.

Letter 181 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Berkeley Square, Nov. 16, 1779. (page 235)

You ought not to accuse yourself only, when I have been as silent
as you. Surely we have been friends too long to admit ceremony
as a go-between. I have thought of writing to you several times,
but found I had nothing worth telling you. I am rejoiced to hear
your health has been better: mine has been worse the whole summer
and autumn than ever it was without any positive distemper, and
thence I conclude it is a failure in my constitution-of which,
being a thing of course, we will say no more-nobody but a
physician is bound to hear what he cannot cure-and if we will pay
for what we cannot expect, it is our own fault.

I have seen Doctor Lort, who seems pleased with becoming a limb
of Canterbury. I heartily wish the mitre may not devolve before
it has beamed substantially on him. In the meantime he will be
delighted with ransacking the library at Lambeth; and, to do him
justice, his ardour is literary, not interested.

I am much obliged to you, dear Sir, for taking the trouble of
transcribing Mr. Tyson's Journal, which is entertaining. But I
am so Ignorant as not to know where Hatfield Priory is. The
three heads I remember on the gate at Whitehall; there were five
more. The whole demolished structure was transported to the
great Park at Windsor, by the late Duke of Cumberland, who
intended to re-edify it, but never did; and now I suppose

Its ruins ruined, as its Place no more.

I did not know what was become of the heads, and am glad any are
preserved. I should doubt their being the works of Torregiano.
Pray who is Mr. Nichols, who has published the Alien Priories;
there are half a dozen or more pretty views of French cathedrals.
I cannot say that I found any thing else in the book that amused
me-but as you deal more in ancient lore than I do, perhaps you
might be better pleased.

I am told there is a new History of Gloucestershire, very large,
but ill executed, by one Rudder(369)--still I have sent for it,
for Gloucestershire is a very historic country.

It was a wrong scent on which I employed you. The arms I have
impaled were certainly not Boleyn's. You lament removal of
friends -alas! dear Sir, when one lives to our age, one feels
that in a higher degree than from their change of place! but one
must not dilate those common moralities. You see by my date I
have changed place myself. I am got into an excellent,
comfortable, cheerful house; and as, from necessity and
inclination, I live much more at home than I used to do, it is
very agreeable to be so pleasantly lodged, and to be in a warm
inn as one passes through the last Vale. Adieu! Yours ever.

(369) "The History and Antiquities of Gloucestershire; comprising
the Topography, Antiquities, Curiosities, Produce, Trade, and
Manufactures of that County:" by Samuel Rudder, printer,
Cirencester, folio.-E.

Letter 182 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Berkeley Square, Dec. 1779. (page 236)

I have two good reasons against writing: nothing to say and a
lame muffled hand; and therefore I choose to write to you, for it
shows remembrance. For these six weeks almost I have been a
prisoner with the gout, but begin to creep about my room. How
have you borne the late deluge and the present frost? How do you
like an earl-bishop?(370) Had not we one before in ancient days?
I have not a book in town; but was not there Anthony Beck, or a
Hubert de Burgh, that was Bishop of Durham and Earl of Kent, or
have I confounded them?

Have you seen Rudder's new History of Gloucestershire? His
additions to Sir Robert Atkyns make it the most sensible history
of a county that we have had yet; for his descriptions of the
scite, soil, products, and prospects of each parish are extremely
good and picturesque; and he treats fanciful prejudices, and
Saxon etymologies, when unfounded, and traditions, with due
contempt.

I will not spin this note any further, but shall be glad of a
line to tell me you are well. I have not seen Mr. Lort since he
roosted under the metropolitan Wings of his grace of Lambeth.
Yours ever.

(370) The Hon. and Rev, Frederick Hervey, bishop of Derry, had
just succeeded to the earldom of Bristol, as fifth Earl, by the
death of his brother. Hardy, in his memoirs of Lord Charlemont
gives the following account of this singular man:--"His family
was famous for talents, equally so for eccentricity; and the
eccentricity of the whole race shone out and seemed to be
concentrated in him. In one respect he was not unlike Villiers
Duke of Buckingham, 'every thing by starts, and nothing long!'
Generous, but uncertain; splendid, but fantastical; an admirer of
the fine arts, without any just selection: engaging, often
licentious in conversation- extremely polite, extremely violent.
His distribution of church livings, chiefly, as I have been
informed, among the older and respectable clergy in his own
diocese, must always be mentioned with that warm approbation
which it is justly entitled to. His progress from his diocese to
the metropolis, and his entrance into it, were perfectly
correspondent to the rest of his conduct. Through every town on
the road, he seemed to court, and was received with, all warlike
honours; and I remember seeing him pass by the Parliament-house
in Dublin (Lords and Commons were then both sitting), escorted by
a body of dragoons, full of spirits and talk, apparently enjoying
the eager gaze of the surrounding multitude, and displaying
altogether the self-complacency of a favourite marshal of France
on his way to Versailles, rather than the grave deportment of a
prelate of the Church of England." He died in 1803.-E.

Letter 183 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Berkeley Square, Jan. 5, 1780. (page 237)

When you said that you feared that your particular account of
your very providential escape would deter me from writing to you
again, I am sure, dear Sir, that you spoke only from modesty, and
not from thinking me capable of being so criminally indifferent
to any thing, much less under such danger as you have run, that
regards so old a friend, and one to whom I owe so many
obligations. I am but too apt to write letters on trifling or no
occasion's: and should certainly have told you the interest I
take in your accident, and how happy I am that it had no
consequences of any sort. It is hard that temperance itself,
which you are, should be punished for a good-natured
transgression of your own rules, and where the excess was only
staying out beyond your usual hour. I am heartily glad you did
not jump out of your chaise; it has often been a much worse
precaution than any consequences from risking to remain in it; as
you are lame too, might have been very fatal. Thank God! all
ended so well. Mr. Masters seems to have been more frightened,
with not greater reason. What an absurd man to be impatient to
notify a disagreeable event to you, and in so boisterous a
manner, and which he could not know was true, since it was not!

I shall take extremely kind your sending me your picture in
glass. I have carefully preserved the slight outline of yourself
in a gown and nightcap, which you once was' so good as to give
me, because there was some likeness to your features. though it
is too old even now. For a portrait of me in return you might
have it by sending the painter to the anatomical school, and
bidding him draw the first skeleton he sees. I should expect any
limner would laugh in my face if I offered it to him to be
copied.

I thought I had confounded the ancient count-bishops, as I had,
and YOU have set me right. The new temporal-ecclesiastical peers
estate is more than twelve thousand a Year, though I can scarce
believe it is eighteen, as the last lord said.

The picture found near the altar in Westminster-Abbey, about
three years ago, was of King Sebert; I saw it, and it was well
preserved, with some others worse--but they have foolishly buried
it again behind their new altar-piece; and so they have a very
fine tomb of Ann of Cleve, close to the altar, which they did not
know till I told them whose it was, though her arms are upon it,
and though there is an exact plate of it in Sandford. They might
at least have cut out the portraits, and removed them to a
conspicuous situation; but though this age is grown so
antiquarian, it has not gained a grain more of sense in that
walk--witness as you instance in Mr. Grose's Legends, and in the
dean and chapter reburying the crown, robes, and sceptre of
Edward I.--there would surely have been as much piety in
preserving them in their treasury, as in consigning them again to
decay. I did not know that the salvation of robes and crowns
depended on receiving Christian burial. At the same time, the
chapter transgress that prince's will, like all their
antecessors; for he ordered his tomb to be opened every year or
two years, and receive a new cerecloth or pall; but they boast
now of having enclosed him so substantially that his ashes cannot
be violated again.