Books: Letters of Horace Walpole, V4

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Letter 24 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Arlington Street, June 11, 1771. (page 47)

You are very kind, dear Sir, and I ought to be, nay, what is
more, I am ashamed of giving you so much trouble; but I am in
no hurry for the letters. I shall not set out till the 7th of
next month, And it will be sufficient if I receive them a week
before I set out. Mr. C. C. C. C. is very welcome to attack me
about a Duchess of Norfolk. He is even welcome to be in the
right; to the edification I hope of all the matrons at the
Antiquarian Society, who I trust will insert his criticism in
the next volume of their Archaeologia, or Old Women's Logic;
but, indeed, I cannot bestow my time on any more of them, nor
employ myself in detecting witches for vomiting pins. When
they turn extortioners like Mr. Masters,(34) the law should
punish them, not only for roguery, but for exceeding their
province, which our ancestors limited to killing their
neighbour's cow, or crucifying dolls of wax. For my own part,
I am so far from being out of charity with him, that I would
give him a nag or new broom whenever he has a mind to ride to
the Antiquarian sabbat, and preach against me. Though you have
more cause to be angry, laugh -,it him as I do. One has not
life enough to throw away on all the fools and knaves that come
across one. I have often been attacked, and never replied but
to Mr. Hume and Dr. Milles--to the first, because he had a
name; to the second, because he had a mind to have one:--and
yet I was in the wrong, for it was the only way he could attain
one. In truth, it is being too self-interested, to expose only
one's private antagonists, when one lets worse men pass
unmolested. Does a booby hurt me by an attack on me, more than
by any other foolish thing he does? Does not he tease me more
by any thing he says to me, without attacking me, than by any
thing he says against me behind my back? I shall, therefore,
most certainly never inquire after or read Mr. C. C. C. C.'s
criticism, but leave him to oblivion with her Grace of Norfolk,
and our wise society. As I doubt my own writings will soon be
forgotten, I need not fear that those of my answerers will be
remembered.

(34) There is a note on this letter in Cole's handwriting. Mr.
Mason had informed him, that Mr. Masters had lately read a
paper at the Antiquarian Society against some mistake of Mr.
Walpole's respective a Duchess of Norfolk; and he adds, "This I
informed Mr. Walpole of in my letter, and said something to him
of Masters' extortion in making me pay forty pounds towards the
repairing his vicarage-house at Waterbeche, which he pretended
he had fitted up for my reception."

Letter 25 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.(35)
Strawberry Hill, June 17, 1771. (page 48)

I was very sure you would grant my request, if you could, and I
am perfectly satisfied with your reasons; but I do not believe
the parties concerned will be so too, especially the heads of
the family, who are not so ready to serve their relations at
their own expense as gratis. When I see you I will tell you
more, and what I thought I had told you.

You tax me with four days in Bedfordshire; I was but three at
most, and of those the evening I went, and the morning I came
away, made the third day. I will try to see you before I go.
The Edgcumbes I should like and Lady Lyttelton, but Garrick
does not tempt me at all. I have no taste for his perpetual
buffoonery, and am sick of his endless expectation of flattery;
but you who charge me with making a long visit to Lord and Lady
Ossory,--you do not see the mote in your own eye; at least I am
sure Lady Ailesbury does not see that in hers. I could not
obtain a single day from her all last year, and with difficulty
got her to give me a few hours this. There is always an
indispensable pheasantry that must be visited, or some thing
from which she cannot spare four-and-twenty hours. Strawberry
sets this down in its pocket-book. and resents the neglect.

At two miles from Houghton Park is the mausoleum of the Bruces,
where I saw the most ridiculous monument of one of Lady
Ailesbury's predecessors that ever was imagined; I beg she will
never keep such company. In the midst of an octagon chapel is
the tomb of Diana, Countess of Oxford and Elgin. From a huge
unwieldy base of white marble rises a black marble cistern;
literally a cistern that would serve for an eating-room. In
the midst of this, to the knees, stands her ladyship in a white
domino or shroud, with her left hand erect as giving her
blessing. It put me in mind of Mrs. Cavendish when she got
drunk in the bathing-tub. At another church is a kind of
catacomb for the Earls of Kent: there are ten sumptuous
monuments. Wrest and Hawnes are both ugly places; the house at
the former is ridiculously old and bad. The state bedchamber
(not ten feet high) and its drawing-room, are laced with Ionic
columns of spotted velvet, and friezes of patchwork. There are
bushels of deplorable earls and countesses. The garden was
execrable too, but is something mended by Brown. Houghton Park
and Ampthill stand finely: the last is a very good house, and
has a beautiful park. The other has three beautiful old
fronts, in the style of Holland House, with turrets and
loggias, but not so large within. It is the worst contrived
dwelling I ever saw. Upon the whole, I was much diverted with
my journey. On my return I stayed but a single hour in London,
saw no soul, and came hither to meet the deluge. It has rained
all night, and all day; but it is midsummer, consequently
midwinter, and one can expect no better. Adieu!

(35) Now first printed.

Letter 26 To The Earl Of Strafford.
Strawberry Hill, June 20, 1771. (page 49)

I have waited impatiently, my dear lord, for something worth
putting into a letter but trees do not speak in parliament, nor
flowers write in the newspapers; and they are almost the only
beings I have seen. I dined on Tuesday at Notting-hill(36)
with the Countesses of Powis and Holderness, Lord and Lady
Pelham, and Lord Frederick Cavendish--and Pam; and shall go to
town on Friday to meet the same company at Lady Holderness's;
and this short journal comprises almost my whole history and
knowledge.

I must now ask your lordship's and Lady Strafford's commands
for Paris. I shall set out on the 7th of next month. You will
think, though you will not tell me so, that these are Very
juvenile jaunts at my age. Indeed, I should be ashamed if I
went for any other pleasure but that of once more seeing my
dear blind friend, whose much greater age forbids my depending
on seeing more often.(37) It will, indeed, be amusing to
change the scene of politics for though I have done with our
own, one cannot help hearing them--nay, reading them; for, like
flies, they come to breakfast with one's bread and butter. I
wish there was any other vehicle for them but a newspaper; a
place into which, considering how they are exhausted, I am sure
they have no pretensions. The Duc d'Aiguillon, I hear, is
minister. Their politics, some way or other, must end
seriously, either in despotism, a civil war, or assassination.
Methinks, it is playing deep for the power of tyranny. Charles
Fox is more moderate: he only games for an hundred thousand
pounds that he has not.

Have you read the Life of Benvenuto Cellini,(38) my lord? I am
angry with him for being more distracted and wrong-headed than
my Lord Herbert. Till the revival of these two, I thought the
present age had borne the palm of absurdity from all its
predecessors. But I find our contemporaries are quiet good
folks, that only game till they hang themselves, and do not
kill every body they meet in the street. Who would have
thought we were so reasonable?

Ranelagh, they tell me, is full of foreign dukes. There is a
Duc de la Tr`emouille, a Duc d'Aremberg, and other grandees. I
know the former, and am not sorry to be out of his way.

It is not pleasant to leave groves and lawns and rivers for a
dirty town with a dirtier ditch, calling itself the Seine; but
I dare not encounter the sea and bad inns in cold weather.
This consideration will bring me back by the end of August. I
should be happy to execute any commission for your lordship.
You know how earnestly I wish always to show myself your
lordship's most faithful humble servant.

(36) near Kensington. The villa of Lady Mary Coke.

(37) In the February of this-year Madame du Deffand had made
her will, and bequeathed Walpole all her manuscripts-. In her
letter of the 17th, informing him that she had so done, she
says, "Je fis usage de votre 'j'y consens.' J'ai une vraie
satisfaction que cette affaire soit termin`ee, et jamais vous
ne m'avez fait un plus v`eritable plaisir qu'en pronon`cant ces
deux mots."-E.

(38) The celebrated Florentine sculptor, "one of the most
extraordinary men in an extraordinary age," so designated by
Walpole. His Life, written by himself, was first published in
English in 1771, from a translation by Dr. T. Nugent; of which
a new edition, corrected and enlarged, with the notes and
observations of G. P. Carpani, translated by Thomas Roscoe,
appeared in 1822.-E.

Letter 27 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Arlington Street, June 22, 1771. (page 50)

I just write you a line, dear Sir, to acknowledge the receipt
of the box of papers, which is come very safe, and to give you
a thousand thanks for the trouble you have taken. As you
promise me another letter I will wait to answer it.

At present I will only beg another favour, and with less shame,
as it is of a kind you will like to grant. I have lately been
at Lord Ossory's at Ampthill. You know Catherine of Arragon
lived some time there.(39) Nothing remains of the castle, nor
any marks of residence, but a very small bit of her garden. I
proposed to Lord Ossory to erect a cross to her memory on the
spot, and he will. I wish, therefore, you could, from your
collections of books, or memory, pick out an authentic form of
a cross, of a better appearance than the common run. It must
be raised on two or three steps; and if they were octagon,
would it not be handsomer? Her arms must be hung like an order
upon it. Here is something of my idea.(40) The shield
appendant to a collar. We will have some inscriptions to mark
the cause of erection. Adieu! Your most obliged.

(39) After her divorce from Henry the Eighth.

(40) A rough sketch in the margin of the letter.

Letter 28 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, June 24, 1771. (page 51)

Dear Sir,
when I wrote to you t'other day, I had not opened the box of
letters, and consequently had not found yours, for which, and
the prints, I give you a thousand thanks; though Count Bryan I
have, and will return to you. Old Walker(41) is very like, and
is valuable for being mentioned in the Dunciad, and a
curiosity, from being mentioned there without abuse.

Your notes are very judicious,(42) and your information most
useful to me in drawing up some little preface to the Letters;
which, however, I shall not have time now to do before my
journey, as I shall set out on Sunday se'nnight. I like your
motto much. The Lady Cecilia's Letters are, as you say, more
curious for the writer than the matter. We know very little of
those daughters of Edward IV. Yet she and her sister
Devonshire lived to be old; especially Cecily, who was married
to Lord Wells; and I have found why: he was first cousin to
Henry VII., who, I suppose, thought it the safest match for
her. I wish I knew all she and her sisters knew of her
brothers, and their uncle Richard III. Much good may it do my
Lord of Canterbury with his parboiled stag! Sure there must be
more curiosities in Bennet Library!

Though your letter is so entertaining and useful to me, the
passage I like best is a promise you make me of a visit in the
autumn with Mr. Essex. Pray put him in mind of it, as I shall
you. It would add much to the obligation if you would bring
two or three of your MS. volumes of collections with you.
Yours ever.

(41) Dr. Richard Walker, vice-master of Trinity College, by
Lambourne.

(42) From King Edward's Journal relating to Mr. Fitzpatrick.

Letter 29 To John Chute, Esq.
Amiens, Tuesday evening, July 9, 1771. (page 51)

I am got no farther yet, as I travel leisurely, and do not
venture to fatigue myself. My voyage was but of four hours. I
was sick only by choice and precaution, and find myself in
perfect health. The enemy, I hope, has not returned to pinch
you again, and that you defy the foul fiend. The weather is
but lukewarm, and I should choose to have all the windows shut,
if my smelling was not much more summerly than my feeling; but
the frowsiness of obsolete tapestry and needlework is
insupportable. Here are old fleas and bugs talking of Louis
Quatorze like tattered refugees in the park, and they make poor
Rosette attend them, whether she will or not. This is a woful
account of an evening in July, and which Monsieur de St.
Lambert has omitted in his Seasons, though more natural than
any thing he has placed there. I f the Grecian religion had
gone into the folly of self-mortification, I suppose the
devotees of Flora would have shut themselves up in a nasty inn,
and have punished their noses for the sensuality of having
smelt to a rose or a honeysuckle.

This is all I have yet to say; for I have had no adventure, no
accident, nor seen a soul but my cousin Richard Walpole, whom I
met on the road and spoke to in his chaise. To-morrow I shall
lie at Chantilly, and be at Paris early on Thursday. The
Churchills are there already. Good night-- and a sweet one to
you!

Paris, Wednesday night, July 10.

I was so suffocated with my inn last night, that I mustered all
my resolution, rose with the alouette this morning, and was in
my chaise by five o'clock I got hither by eight this evening,
tired, but rejoiced; I have had a comfortable dish of tea, and
am going to bed in clean sheets. I sink myself even to my dear
old woman(43) and my sister; for it is impossible to sit down
and be made charming At this time of night after fifteen posts,
and after having been here twenty times before.

At Chantilly I crossed the Countess of Walpole, who lies there
to-night on her way to England. But I concluded she had no
curiosity about me-and I could not brag of more about her-and
so we had no intercourse. I am wobegone to find my Lord F -* *
* in the same hotel. He is as starched as an old-fashioned
plaited neckcloth, and come to suck wisdom from this curious
school of philosophy. He reveres me because I was acquainted
with his father; and that does not at all increase my
partiality to the son.

Luckily, the post departs early to-morrow morning I thought you
would like to hear I was arrived -well. I should be happy to
hear you are so; but do not torment yourself too soon, nor will
I torment you. I have fixed the 26th of August for setting out
on my return. These jaunts are too juvenile. I am ashamed to
look back and remember in what year of Methuselah I was here
first. Rosette Sends her blessing to her daughter. Adieu!
Yours ever.

(43) Madame du Deffand; who, in her letter to Walpole of the
12th of June, had said, "Je sens l'exc`es de votre
complaisance; j'ai tant de joie de l'esp`erance de vous revoir
qu'il me semble que rien ne peut plus m'affliger ni
m'attrister."--E.

Letter 30 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Paris, July 30, 1771. (page 52)

I do not know where you are, nor where this will find you, nor
when it will set out to seek you, as I am not certain by whom I
shall send it. It is of little consequence, as I have nothing
material to tell you, but what you probably may have heard.

The distress here is incredible, especially at court. The
King's tradesmen are ruined, his servants starving, and even
angels and archangels cannot get their pensions and salaries,
but sing, "Woe! woe! woe!" instead of Hosannahs. Compi`egne is
abandoned; Villiers-coterets and Chantilly(44) crowded, and
Chanteloup(45) still more in fashion, whither every body goes
that pleases; though, when they ask leave, the answer is, "Je
ne le defends ni le permets." This is the first time that ever
the will of a King of France was interpreted against his
inclination. Yet, after annihilating his Parliament, and
ruining public credit, he tamely submits to be affronted by his
own servants. Madame de Beauveau, and two or three
high-spirited dames, defy this Czar of Gaul- Yet they and their
cabal are as inconsistent on the other hand. They make
epigrams, sing vaudevilles(46) against the mistress, hand about
libels against the Chancellor, and have no more effect than a
sky-rocket; but in three months will die to go to court, and to
be invited to sup with Madame du Barry. The only real struggle
is between the Chancellor(47) and the Duc d'Aiguillon. The
first is false, bold, determined, and not subject to little
qualms. The other is less known, communicates himself to
nobody, is suspected of deep policy and deep designs, but seems
to intend to set out under a mask of very smooth varnish; for
he has just obtained the payment of all his bitter enemy La
Chalotais' pensions and arrears. He has the advantage, too, of
being but moderately detested in comparison of his rival, and,
what he values more, the interest of the mistress.(48) The
Comptroller-general serves both, by acting mischief more
sensibly felt; for he ruins every body but those who purchase a
respite from his mistress.(49) He dispenses bankruptcy by
retail, and will fall, because he cannot even by these means be
useful enough. They are striking off nine millions la caisse
militaire, five from the marine, and one from the afaires
`etrang`eres: yet all this will not extricate them. You never
saw a great nation in so disgraceful a position. Their next
prospect is not better: it rests on an imbecile, both in mind
and body.

July 31.

Mr. Churchill and my sister set out to-night after supper, and
I shall send this letter by them. There are no new books, no
new Plays, no new novels; nay, no new fashions. They have
dragged old Mademoiselle Le Maure out of a retreat of thirty
years, to sing at the Colis`ee, which is a most gaudy Ranelagh,
gilt, painted, and becupided like an Opera, but not calculated
to last as long as Mother Coliseum, being composed of chalk and
pasteboard. Round it are courts of treillage, that serve for
nothing, and behind it a canal, very like a horsepond, on which
there are fireworks and justs. Altogether it is very pretty;
but as there are few nabobs and nabobesses in this country, and
as the middling and common people are not much richer than Job
when he had lost every thing but his patience, the proprietors
are on the point of being ruined, unless the project takes
place that is talked of. It is, to oblige Corneille, Racine,
and Moli`ere to hold their tongues twice a-week, that their
audiences may go to the Colis`ee. This is like our
Parliament's adjourning when senators want to go to Newmarket.
There is a Monsieur Gaillard writing a "History of the
Rivalit`e de la France et de l'Angleterre."(50) I hope he will
not omit this parallel.

The instance of their poverty that strikes me most, who make
political observations by the thermometer of baubles, is, that
there is nothing new in their shops. I know the faces of every
snuff-box and every tea-cup as well as those of Madame du Lac
and Monsieur Poirier. I have chosen some cups and saucers for
my Lady Ailesbury, as she ordered me; but I cannot say they are
at all extraordinary. I have bespoken two cabriolets for her,
instead of six, because I think them very dear, and that she
may have four more if she likes them. I shall bring, too, a
sample of a baguette that suits them. For myself, between
economy and the want of novelty, I have not laid out five
guineas--a very memorable anecdote in the history of my life.
Indeed, the Czarina and I have a little dispute; she has
offered to purchase the whole Crozat collection of pictures, at
which I had intended to ruin myself. The Turks thank her for
it! Apropos, they are sending from hence fourscore officers to
Poland, each of whom I suppose, like Almanzor, can stamp with
his foot and raise an army.

As my sister travels like a Tartar princess with her whole
horde, she will arrive too late almost for me to hear from you
in return to this letter, which in truth requires no answer,
v`u que I shall set out myself on the 26th of August. You will
not imagine that I am glad to save myself the pleasure of
hearing from you; but I would not give you the trouble of
writing unnecessarily. If you are at home, and not in
Scotland, you will judge by these dates where to find me.
Adieu!

P. S. Instead of restoring the Jesuits, they are proceeding to
annihilate the Celestines, Augustines, and some other orders.

(44) The country palaces of the Duke of Orleans and the Prince
of Cond`e; who were in disgrace at court for having espoused
the cause of the Parliament of Paris, banished by the
Chancellor Maupeou.

(45) The country seat of the Duc de Choiseul, to which, on his
ceasing to be first minister, he was banished by the King.

(46) The following `echantillon of these vaudevilles was given
by Madame du Deffand to Walpole:--

"L'avez-vous vue, ma Du Barry,
Elle a ravi mon `ame;
Pour elle j'ai perdu l'esprit,
Des Fran`cais j'ai le bl`ame:
Charmants enfans de la Gourdon,
Est-elle chez vous maintenant?
Rendez-la-moi,
Je suis le Roi,
Soulagez mon martyre;
Rendez-la-moi,
Elle est `a moi,
Je suis son pauvre Sire.
Llavez-vous vue, etc.

"Je sais qu'autrefois les laquais
Ont f`et`e ses jeunes attraits;
Que les cochers,
Les peruquiers,
L'aimaient, l'aimaient d'amour ex`eme,
Mais pas autant que je l'aime.
L'avez-vous vue," etc,-E.

(47) Maupeou.

(48) Madame du Barry.'''

(49) The Abb`e Terrai was comptroller-general of the finances.
His mistress, known in the fashionable circles of Paris by the
name of La Sultane, received money, as it was supposed, in
concert with the Abb`e himself, for every act of favour or
justice solicited from the department over which he presided.-E.

(50) In a letter to Walpole, Madame du Deffand thus speaks of
this work:--"Il m'arrive une bonne fortune apr`es laquelle je
soupirais depuis longtemps: c'est un livre qui me plait
infiniment; il est de M. Gaillard; il a Pour titre 'Rivalit`e
de la France et de l'Angleterre;' il est par chapitres, et
chaque chapitre est les `ev`enemens du r`egne d'un Roi de
France et d'un Roi d'Angleterre contemporains. Il est bien
loin d'`etre fini; il n'en est qu'a Philippe de Valois et
Edouard Trois. Il n'y a que trois volumes; il y en aura
peut-`etre douze ou quinze." The work, which was not completed
till the year 1774, extended to eleven Volumes.-E.

Letter 31 To John Chute, Esq.
Paris, August 5, 1771. ((page 55)

It is a great satisfaction to Me to find by your letter of the
30th, that you have had no return of your gout. I have been
assured here, that the best remedy is to cut one's nails in hot
water. It is, I fear, as certain as any other remedy! It
would at least be so here, if their bodies were of a piece with
their understandings; or if both were as curable as they are
the contrary. Your prophecy, I doubt, is not better founded
than the prescription. I may be lame; but I shall never be a
duck, nor deal in the garbage of the Alley. I envy your
Strawberry tide, and need not say how much I wish I was there
to receive you. Methinks, I should be as glad of a little
grass, as a seaman after a long voyage. Yet English gardening
gains ground here prodigiously-not much at a time, indeed--I
have literally seen one, that is exactly like a tailor's paper
of patterns. There is a Monsieur Boutin, who has tacked a
piece of what he calls an English garden to a set of stone
terraces, with steps of turf. There are three or four very
high hills, almost as high as, and exactly in the shape of, a
tansy pudding. You squeeze between these and a river, that is
conducted at obtuse angles in a stone channel, and supplied by
a pump, and when walnuts Come in I suppose it will be
navigable. In a corner enclosed by a chalk wall are the
samples I mentioned: there is a stripe of grass, another of
corn, and a third en friche, exactly in the order of beds in a
nursery. They have translated Mr. Whately's book,(51) and the
Lord knows what barbarism is going to be laid at our door.
This new anglomanie will literally be mad English.

New arr`ets, new retrenchments, new misery, stalk forth every
day. The Parliament of Besan`con is dissolved; so are the
grenadiers de France. The King's tradesmen are all bankrupt;
no pensions are paid, and every body is reforming their suppers
and equipages. Despotism makes converts faster than ever
Christianity did. Louis Quinze is the true rex
Ckristianissimus, and has ten times more success than his
dragooning great-grandfather. Adieu, my dear Sir! Yours most
faithfully.

Friday, 9th.

This was to have gone by a private hand, but cannot depart till
Monday; so I may be continuing my letter till I bring it
myself. I have been again at the Chartreuse; and though it was
the sixth time, I am more enchanted with those paintings(52)
than ever. If it is not the first work in the world, and must
yield to the Vatican, yet in simplicity and harmony it beats
Raphael himself. There is a vapour over all the pictures, that
makes them more natural than any representation of objects-1
cannot conceive bow it is effected! You see them through the
shine of a southeast wind. These poor folks do not know the
inestimable treasure they possess--but they are perishing these
pictures, and one gazes at them as at a setting sun. There is
the purity of a Racine in them, but they give me more pleasure-
-and I should much sooner be tired of the poet than of the
painter.