Books: The Letters of Horace Walpole, Volume 1

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I have this instant received your letter. Lord! I am glad I
thought of those parallel passages, since it made you
translate them. 'Tis excessively near the original; and yet, I
don't know, 'tis very easy too.-It snows here a little
to-night, but
it never lies but on the mountains. Adieu! Yours ever.

P.S. What is the history of the theatres this winter?

(179) Sir Charles Etheridge. "She would if She could," was
brought out at the Duke of York's theatre in February, 1668:
Pepys, who was present, calls it "a silly, dull thing; the design
and end being mighty insipid."-E.

(180) Sir Horace Mann, created a baronet in 1755. He was
appointed minister plenipotentiary from England to the court of
Florence in 1740, and continued so until his death, on the 6th
November 1786.-E.

145 Letter 18
To The Hon. Henry Seymour Conway, (181)
Florence, March 6, 1740, N. S.

Harry, my dear, one would tell you what a monster you are, if one
were not sure your conscience tells you so every time you think
of me. At Genoa, in the year of our Lord one
thousand seven hundred and thirty-nine, I received the last
letter from you; by your not writing to me since, I imagine you
propose to make this a leap year. I should have sent many a
scold after you in this long interval, had I known where to have
scolded; but you told me you should leave Geneva
immediately. I have despatched sundry inquiries into England
after you, all fruitless. At last drops in a chance letter to
Lady Sophy Farmor, (182) from a girl at Paris, that tells her for
news, Mr. Henry Conway is here. Is he, indeed? and why was I to
know it only by this scrambling way? Well, I hate you for this
neglect, but I find I love you well enough to tell you so. But,
dear now, don't let one fall into a train of excuses and
reproaches; if the god of indolence is a
mightier deity with you than the god of caring for one, tell me,
and I won't dun you; but will drop your correspondence as
silently as if I owed you money.

If my private consistency was of no weight with you, yet, is a
man nothing who is within three days' journey of a conclave?
Nay, for what you knew, I might have been in Rome. Harry, art
thou so indifferent, as to have a cousin at the election of a
pope (183) without courting him for news? I'll tell you, were I
any where else, and even Dick Hammond were at Rome, I think
verily I should have wrote to him. Popes, cardinals,
adorations, coronations, St. Peter's! oh, what costly sounds!
and don't you write to one yet? I shall set out in about a
fortnight, and pray then think me of consequence.

I have crept on upon time from day to day here; fond of
Florence to a degree: 'tis infinitely the most agreeable of all
the places I have seen since London: that you know one loves,
right or wrong, as one does one's nurse. Our little Arno is not
bloated and swelling like the Thames, but 'tis vastly pretty,
and, I don't know how, being Italian, has
something visionary and poetical in its stream. Then one's
unwilling to leave the gallery, and-but-in short, one's
unwilling to get into a postchaise. I am surfeited with
mountains and inns, as if I had eat them. I have many to pass
before I see England again, and no Tory to entertain me on the
road? Well, this thought makes me dull, and that makes me
finish. Adieu!
Yours ever.

P. S. Direct to me, (for to be sure you will not be so
outrageous as to leave me quite off), recornmand4 i Mons.
Mann, Ministre de sa Majest`e Britannique @ Florence.

(181) Second Son of Francis first Lord Conway. by Charlotte
Shorter, his third wife. He was afterwards secretary in
Ireland during the vice-royalty of William fourth Duke of
Devonshire; groom of the bedchamber to George II. and George
III.; secretary of state in 1765; lieutenant-general of the
ordnance in 1770; commander in chief in 1782; and a field-
marshal in 1793. This correspondence commences when Mr.
Walpole was twenty-three years old, and Mr. Conway two years
younger. They had gone abroad together, with Mr. Gray, in the
year 1739, had spent three months together at Rheims, and
afterwards separated at Geneva.

(182) Daughter of the first Earl of Pomfret, and married,, in
1744, to John second Lord Carteret and first Earl of
Granville.-E.

(183) As successor of Clement XII., who died in the
eighty-eighth year of his age, and the tenth of his
pontificate, on the 6th Feb. 1740. The cardinals being
uncertain whom to choose, Prosper Lamberteri, the learned and
tolerant Archbishop of Ancona, said, with his accustomed
good-humour, "If you want a saint, choose Gotti; if a
politician, Aldrosandi: but if a good man, take me." His
advice was followed, and he ascended the papal throne as
Benedict XIV.-E.

146 Letter 19
To Richard West, Esq.
Siena, March 22, 1740, N. S.

Dear West, Probably now you will hear something of the
Conclave: we have
left Florence, and are got hither on the way to a pope. In three
hours' time we have seen all the good contents of this city: 'tis
old, and very snug, with very few inhabitants. You must not
believe Mr. Addison about the wonderful Gothic nicety of the
dome: the materials are richer, but the workmanship and taste not
near so good as in several I have seen. We saw a college of the
Jesuits, where there are taught to draw above fifty boys: they
are disposed in long chambers in the manner of Eton, but
cleaner.
N. B. We were not bolstered; (184) so we wished you with us. Our
Cicerone, who has less classic knowledge, and more
superstition than a colleger, upon showing
147 us the she-wolf, the arms of Siena, told us that Romolus and
Remus were nursed by a wolf, per la volonta di Dio, si pu`o dire;
and that one might see by the arms, that the same founders built
Rome and Siena. Another dab of Romish superstition, not
unworthy
of Presbyterian divinity, we met with in a book of drawings:
'twas the Virgin standing on a tripod composed of Adam, Eve, and
the Devil, to express her immaculate conception.

You can't imagine how pretty the country is between this and
Florence; millions of little hills planted with trees, and tipped
with villas or convents. We left unseen the great Duke's
villas
and several palaces in Florence, till our return from Rome: the
weather has been so cold, how could one go to them? In Italy
they seem to have found out how hot their climate is, but not how
cold; for there are scarce any chimneys, and most of the
apartments painted in fresco so that one has the additional
horror of freezing with imaginary marble. The men hang little
earthen pans of coals upon their wrists, and the women have
portable stoves under their petticoats to warm their
nakedness,
and carry silver shovels in their pockets, with which their
Cicisbeos stir them-Hush! by them, I mean their stoves. I have
nothing more to tell you; I'll carry my letter to Rome and finish
it there.

R`e di Coffano, March 23, where lived one of the three kings.
The King of Coffano carried presents of myrrh, gold, and
frankincense, I don't know where the devil he found them; for in
all his dominions we have not seen the value of a shrub. We have
the honour of lodging under his roof to-night. lord! such a
place, such an extent of ugliness! A lone inn upon a black
mountain, by the side of an old fortress! no curtains or
windows, only shutters! no testers to the beds! no earthly thing
to eat but some eggs and a few little fishes! This lovely
spot
is now known by the name of Radi-cofani. Coming down a steep
hill with two miserable hackneys, one fell under the chaise; and
while we were disengaging him, a chaise came by with a person in
a red cloak, a white handkerchief on its head, and a black hat:
we thought it a fat old woman; but it spoke in a shrill little
pipe, and proved itself to be Senesini. (185) I forgot to tell
you an inscription I copied from the portal of the dome of Siena:

Annus centenus Roma seraper est jubilenus:
Crimina laxantur si penitet ista dortantur; Sic ordinavit
Bonifacius et roboravit.

Rome, March 26

We are this instant arrived, tired and hungry! O! the charming
city-I believe it is-for I have not seen a syllable yet, only the
Pons Milvius and an obelisk. The Cassian and Flaminian ways were
terrible disappointments; not one Rome tomb left; their very
ruins ruined. The English are numberless. My dear West, I know
at Rome you will not have a grain of pity for one; but indeed
'tis dreadful, dealing with schoolboys just broke loose, or old
fools that are come abroad at forty to see the world, like Sir
Wilful Witwould.

I don't know whether you will receive this, or any other I write;
but though I shall write often, you and Ashton must not wonder if
none come to you; for though I am harmless in my nature, my name
has some mystery in it.(186) Good night! I have no more time or
paper. Ashton, child, I'll write to you next post. Write us no
treasons, be sure!

(184) An Eton phrase.

(185) Francesco Bernardi, better known by the name of
Senesino, a celebrated singer, who, having been engaged for the
opera company formed by Handel in 17@20, remained here as
principal singer until 1726, when the state of his health
compelled him to return to Italy. In 1730 he revisited England,
where he remained until about 1734. He was the contemporary, if
not the rival of Farinelli; and Mr. Hogarth, in his "Memoirs of
the Musical Drama," (i. 431,) tells us, that when Senesino and
Farinelli were in England together, they had not for some time
the opportunity of hearing each other, in consequence of their
engagements at different theatres. At last, however, they were
both engaged to sing on the same stage. Senesino had the part of
a furious tyrant, and Farinelli the part of an unfortunate hero
in chains; but, in the course of the first act, the captive so
softened the heart of the tyrant, that Senesino, forgetting his
stage character, ran to Farinelli, and embraced him in his
own.-E.

(186) He means the name of Walpole at Rome, where the
Pretender and many of his adherents then resided.

148 letter 20
To Richard West, Esq.
Rome, April 16th, 1740, N. S.

I'll tell you, West, because one is amongst new things, you think
one can always write new things. When I first came
abroad, every thing struck me, and I wrote its history: but now I
am grown so used to be surprised, that I don't perceive any
flutter in myself when I meet with any novelties;
curiosity and astonishment wear off, and the next thing is, to
fancy that other people nnow as much of places as One's Self; or,
at least, one does not remember that they do not. It
appears to me as odd to write to you of St.
Peter's, as it would do to you to write of Westminster Abbey.
Besides, as one looks at churches, etc. with a book of travels in
one's hand, and sees every thing particularized there, it would
appear transcribing, to write upon the same subjects. I know you
will hate me for this declaration; I remember how ill I used to
take it when any body served me so that was
travelling. Well, I will tell you something, if you will love
me: You have seen prints of the ruins of the temple of Minerva
Medica; you shall only hear its situation, and then figure what a
villa might be laid out there. 'Tis in the middle of a garden: at
a little distance are two subterraneous grottos, which were the
burial-places of the liberti of Augustus.
There are all the niches and covers of the urns and the
inscriptions remaining; and in one, very considerable remains of
an ancient stucco Ceiling with paintings in grotesque. Some of
the walks would terminate upon the Castellum Aquae Martioe, St.
John Lateran, and St. Maria Maggiore, besides other churches; the
walls of the garden would be two
aqueducts. and the entrance through one of the old gates of Rome.
This glorious spot is neglected, and only serves for a small
vineyard and kitchen-garden.

I am very glad that I see Rome while it yet exists: before a
great number of years are elapsed, I question whether it will be
worth seeing. Between the ignorance and poverty of the present
Romans, every thing is neglected and falling to decay; the villas
are entirely out of repair, and the palaces so ill kept, that
half the pictures are spoiled by damp. At the
villa Ludovisi is a large oracular head of red marble,
colossal, and with vast foramina for the eyes and mouth: the man
that showed the palace said it was un ritratto della
famiglia? The Cardinal Corsini has
so thoroughly pushed on the misery of Rome by impoverishing it,
that there is no money but paper to be seen. He is
reckoned to have amassed three millions of crowns. You may judge
of' the affluence the nobility live in, when I assure you, that
what the chief princes allow for their own eating is a testoon a
day; eighteen pence: there are some extend their expense to five
pauls, or half a crown: Cardinal Albani is called extravagant for
laying out ten pauls for his dinner and supper. You may imagine
they never have any entertainments: so far from it, they never
have any company. The princesses and duchesses particularly lead
the dismallest of lives.
Being the posterity of popes, though of worse families than the
ancient nobility, they expect greater
respect than my ladies the countesses and marquises will pay
them; consequently they consort not, but mope in a vast palace
with two mniserable tapers, and two or three monsignori, whom
they are forced to court and humour, that they may not be
entirely deserted. Sundays they do issue forth in a most
unwieldy coach to the Corso.

In short 'child, after sunset one passes one's time here very
ill; and if I did not wish for you in the mornings, it would be
no compliment to tell you that I do in the evening. Lord! how
many English I could change for you, and yet buy you
wondrous cheap! And, then French and Germans I could fling into
the bargain by dozens. Nations swarm here. You will have a
great fat French cardinal garnished with thirty abb`es roll into
the area of St. Peter's, gape, turn short, and talk of the chapel
of Versailles. I heard one of them say t'other day, he had been
at the Capitale. One asked of course how he liked it-.Oh! il y a
assez de belles choses.

Tell Ashton I have received his letter, and will write next post
but I am in a violent hurry and have no more time; so Gray
finishes this delicately.

NOT so delicate; nor indeed would his conscience suffer him to
write to you, till he received de vos nouvelles, if he had not
the tail of another person's letter to use by way of evasion. I
sha'n't describe, as being in the only place in the world that
deserves it which may seem an odd reason-but they say as how it's
fulsome, and every body does it (and I suppose every body says
the same thing); else I should tell'you a vast deal about the
Coliseum, and the Conclave, and the Capitol, and these matters.
A-propos du Colis`ee, if you don't know what it is, the Prince
Borghese will be very capable of giving you some account of it,
who told an Englishman that asked what it was built for: "They
say 'twas for Christians to fight with tigers in." We are just
come from adoring a great piece of the true cross, St. Longinus's
spear, and St. Veronica's handkerchief; all of which have been
this evening exposed to view in St. Peter's. In the same place,
and on the same occasion last night, Walpole saw a poor
creature naked to the waist discipline himself with a scourge
filled with iron prickles, till he made hii-nself a raw
doublet, that he took for red satin torn, and showing the skin
through. I should tell you, that he fainted away three times at
the sight, and I twice
and a half at the repetition of it. All this is performed by the
light of a vast fiery cross, composed of hundreds of
little crystal latmps, which appears through the great altar
under the grand tribuna, as if hanging by itself in the air. All
the confraternities of the city resort thither in solemn
procession, habited in linen frocks, girt with a cord, and their
heads covered with a cowl all over, that has only two holes
before to see through. Some of these are all black, others
parti-coloured and white: and with these masqueraders that vast
church is filled, who are seen thumping their
breasts, and kissing the pavement with extreme devotion. But
methinks I am describing:-'tis an ill habit; but this, like every
thing else will wear off We have sent you our compliments by a
friend of yours, and correspondent in a corner, who seems a very
agreeable man; one Mr. Williams; I am sorry he staid so little a
while in Rome. I forget Porto-Bello (187) all this while; pray
let us know where it is, and whether you or Ashton had any hand
in the taking of'it. Duty to the admiral. Adieu! Ever yours,

T. GRAY.

(187) Porto-Bello, taken from the Spaniards by Admiral Vernon,
with six ships only, On the 21st Nov. 1740. By the articles of
the capitulation, the town was not to be plundered, nor the
inhabitants molested in the smallest degree; and the governor and
inhabitants expressed themselves in the highest terms, when
speaking of the humanity and generosity with which they had been
treated by the admiral and the officers of the
squadron under his command.-E.

150 Letter 21
To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Rome, April, 23, 1740, N. S.

As I have wrote you two such long letters lately, my dear Hal, I
did not hurry myself to answer your last; but choose to write to
poor SelWyn (188) Upon his illness. I pity you excessively upon
finding him in such a situation- what a shock it must have been
to you! He deserves so much love from all that know him, and you
owe him so much friendship, that I can scarce conceive a greater
shock. I am very glad you did not write to me till he was out of
danger; for this great distance would have added to my pain, as I
must have waited so long for another letter. I charge you, don't
let him relapse into balls: he does not love them, and, if you
please, your example may keep him out of them. You are extremely
pretty people to be dancing and trading with French poulterers
and pastry cooks, when a hard frost is starving half the nation,
and the Spanish war ought to be employing the other half. We are
much more public spirited here; we live upon the public news, and
triumph abundantly upon the taking Porto-Bello. If you are not
entirely debauched with your balls, you must be pleased with an
answer of Lord Harrington's (189) to the governor of
Rome. He asked him what they had determined about the
vessel that the Spaniards took under the canon of Civita
Vecchia, whether they had restored it to the English? The
governor said, they had done justice. My lord replied, "If you
had not, we should have' done it ourselves." Pray
reverence our spirit, Lieutenant Hal.

Sir, MoscovitEO (190) is not a pretty woman, and she does
sing ill; that's all.

My dear Harry, I must now tell you a little about myself,
and answer your questions. How I like the inanimate part of Rome
you will soon perceive at my arrival in England; I am far gone in
medals, lamps, idols, prints, etc." and all the small commodities
to the purchase of which I can attain; I would buy the Coliseum
if I could: Judge. My mornings are spent in the most agreeable
manner; my evenings ill enough. Roman conversations are dreadful
things! such untoward
mawkins as the princesses! and the princes are worse. Then the
whole city is littered with French and German abb`es,
who make up a dismal contrast with the inhabitants. The
conclave is far from enlivening us; its secrets don't
transpire. I could give you names of this cardinal and
that, that are talked of, but each is contradicted the next hour.
I was there t'other day to visit one of them, and one of the most
agreeable, Alexander Albani. I had the
opportunity of two cardinals making their entry: upon that
occasion the gate is unlocked, and their eminences come to talk
to their acquaintance over the threshold. I have
received great civilities from him I named to you, and I
wish he were out, that I might receive greater: a friend of his
does the honours of Rome for him; but you know that it is
unpleasant to visit by proxy. Cardinal Delei, the object of the
Corsini faction, is dying; the hot weather will probably despatch
half a dozen more. Not that it is hot yet; I am now writing to
you by my fireside.

Harry, you saw Lord Deskfoord (191) at Geneva; don't you
like him? He is a mighty sensible man. There are few young
people have so good understandings. He is mighty grave, and so
are you; but you can both be pleasant when you have a
mind. Indeed, one can make you pleasant, but his solemn
Scotchery is a little formidable: before you 1 can play the fool
from morning to night, courageously. Good night. I
have other letters to write, and must finish this.
Yours ever.

(188) John Selwyn, elder brother of George Augustus Selwyn. He
died about 1750.

(189)William Marquis of Hartington. He succeeded his father as
fourth Duke of Devonshire in 1755.-E.

(190) Notwithstanding she laboured under such
disadvantages-and want of beauty and want of talent are
serious ones to a cantatrice,-it will be seen from Walpole's
letter to Mann, 5th Nov. 1741, that the Moscovita, on her
arrival here, received six hundred guineas for the season,
instead of four hundred, the salary previously given to the ,
second woman;" and became, moreover, the mistress of Lord
Middlesex, the director of the opera.-E.

(191) Son of the Earl of Findlater and Seafield, who
succeeded his father in 1764, and died in 1770.-E.

152 Letter 22
To Richard West, Esq.
Rome, May 7, 1740, N. S.

Dear West,
'Twould be quite rude and unpardonable in one not to wish you joy
upon the great conquests that you are all committing all over the
world. We heard the news last night from Naples, that Admiral
Haddock (192) had met the Spanish convoy going to Majorca, and
taken it all, all; three thousand men, three
colonels, and a Spanish grandee. We conclude it is true, for the
Neapolitan Majesty mentioned it at dinner. We are going thither
in about a week, to wish him joy of it too. 'Tis with some
apprehensions we go too, of having a pope chosen in the interim:
that would be cruel, you know. But, thank our stars, there is no
great probability of it. ' Feuds and contentions run high among
the eminences. A notable one happened this week. Cardinal
Zinzendorff and two more had given their votes for the general of
the Capucins: he is of the Barberini
family, not a cardinal, but a worthy man. Not effecting any
thing, Zinzendorff voted for Coscia, and declared it publicly.
Cardinal Petra reproved him; but the German replied, he
thought Coscia as fit to be pope as any of them. It seems, his
pique to the whole body is, their having denied a daily admission
of a pig into the conclave for
his eminence's use who, being much troubled with the gout, was
ordered by his mother to bathe his leg in pig's blood every
morning.

Who should have a vote t other day but the Cardinalino of
Toledo! Were he older, the Queen of Spain might possibly
procure more than one for him, though scarcely enough.

Well, but we won't talk Politics: shall we talk antiquities?
Gray and I discovered a considerable curiosity lately. In an
unfrequented quarter of the Colonna garden lie two immense
fragments of marble, formerly part of a frieze to some building;
'tis not known of what. They are of Parian marble: which may
give one some idea of the magnificence of the rest of the
building for these pieces were at the very top. Upon inquiry, we
were told they had been measured by an architect, who declared
they were larger than any member of St. Peter's. The length of
one of the pieces is above sixteen feet. They were formerly sold
to a stonecutter for five thousand crowns, but Clement XI. would
not permit them to be sawed, annulled the bargain, and laid a
penalty of twelve thousand crowns upon the family if they parted
with them. I think it was a right judged thing. Is it not
amazing, that so vast a structure should not be known of, or that
it should be so entirely destroyed? But indeed at Rome this is a
common surprise; for, by the remains one sees of the Roman
grandeur in their structures, 'tis evident that there must have
been more pains taken to destroy those piles than to raise them.
They are more demolished than any time or chance could have
effected. I am persuaded that in an hundred years Rome will not
be worth seeing; 'tis less so now than one would believe. All
the public pictures are decayed or decaying; the few ruins cannot
last long; and the statues and private collections must be sold,
from the great poverty of the families. There are now selling no
less than three of the principal collections, the Barberini, the
Sacchetti, and Ottoboni: the latter
belonged to the cardinal who died in the conclave. I must give
you an instance of his generosity, or rather ostentation. When
Lord Carlisle was here last year, who is a great
virtuoso, he asked leave to see the cardinal's collection of
cameos and intaglios. Ottoboni gave leave, and ordered the
person who showed them to observe which my lord admired most. My
lord admired many: they were all sent him the next morning. He
sent the cardinal back a fine gold repeater; who returned him an
acate snuff box, and more cameoes of ten
times the value. Voila qui est fini! Had my lord produced more
golden repeaters, it would have been begging more cameos.
Adieu, my dear West! You see I write often and much, as you
desired it. Do answer one now and then, with any little job that
is done in England. Good night. Yours ever.