Books: The Letters of Horace Walpole, Volume 1

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Did I tell you Lady Mary Wortley is here? She laughs at my Lady
Walpole, scolds my Lady Pomfret, and is laughed at by the whole
town. (211) Her dress, her avarice, and her impudence must amaze
any one that never heard her name. She wears a foul mob, that
does not cover her greasy black locks, that hang loose, never
combed or curled; an old mazarine blue
wrapper, that gapes open and discovers a canvass petticoat. Her
face swelled violently on one side with the remains of a-, partly
covered with a plaster, and partlv with white paint, which for
cheapness she has bought so coarse, that you would not use it to
wash a chimney.-In three words I will give you her picture (212)
as we drew it in the Sortes Virgilianae-
Insanam vatem aepicies.

I give you my honour, we did not choose it; but Mr. Gray, Mr.
Cooke, (213) Sir Francis Dashwood, (214) and I, and several
others, drew it fairly amongst a thousand for different
people, most of which did not hit as you may imagine: those that
did I will tell you.

For our most religious and gracious-
-Dii, talem terris avertite pestem.

For one that would be our most religious and gracious.
Purpureus veluti cum flos succisus aratro
Languescit moriens, lassove papavera collo
Demis`ere caput, pluvia cum fort`e gravantur.

For his son.
Regis Romani: primus qui legibus urbem Fundabit, Curibus
parvis et paupere terra, Missus in imperium magnum.

For Sir Robert.
Res dura et regni novitas me talia cogunt Moliri, et late
fines custode tueri.

I will show you the rest when I see you.

(211) In a letter from Florence, written by Lady Mary to Mr.
Wortley, on the 11th of August, she says, "Lord and Lady
Pomfret take pains to make the place agreeable to me, and I have
been visited by the greatest part of the people of
quality." See the edition of her works, edited by Lord
Wharncliffe, vol. ii. p. 325.-E.

(212) The following favourable picture" of Lady Mary is by
Spence, who met her at Rome, in the ensuing January:-" She is one
of the most shining characters in the world, but shines like a
comet; she is all irregularity, and always wandering; the most
wise, most imprudent; loveliest, most disagreeable; best-natured,
cruellest woman in the world; 'all things by turns, and nothing
long.'"-E.

(213) George Cooke, Esq. afterwards member for Tregony, and chief
prothonotary in the Court of Common Pleas. On Mr.
Pitt's return to office in 1766 he was appointed joint
paymaster-general, and died in 1768. See Chatham
Correspondence, vol. ii. p. 338.-E.

(214) Sir Francis Dashwood, who, on the death of John Earl of
Westmoreland, succeeded to the barony of Le Despencer, as
being the only son of Mary, eldest sister of the said Earl, and
which was confirmed to him 19th April'1763.-E.

163 Letter 27
To Sir Richard West, Esq.
Florence, Oct. 2, 1740, N. S.

Dear West,
T'other night as we (you know who we are) were walking on
the charming bridge, just before going to a wedding assembly, we
said, Lord, I wish, just as we are got into the room, they would
call us out, and say, West is arrived! We would make him dress
instantly, and carry him back to the entertainment. How he would
stare and wonder at a thousand things, that no longer strike us
as odd!" Would not you? One agreed that you should come directly
by sea from Dover, and be set down at Leghorn, without setting
foot in any other foreign town, and so land at Us, in all your
first full amaze; for you are to know, that astonishment rubs off
violently; we did not cry out Lord! half so much at Rome as at
Calais, which to this hour I look upon as one of the most
surprising cities in the
universe. My dear child, what if you were to take this little
sea-jaunt? One would recommend Sir John Norris's convoy to you,
but one should be laughed at now for supposing that he is ever to
sail beyond Torbay.(215) The Italians take Torbay for an English
town in the hands of the Spaniards, after the
fashion of Gibraltar, and imagine 'tis a wonderful strong
place, by our fleet's having retired from before it so often, and
so often returned. We went to this wedding that I told you of;
'twas a charming feast: a large palace finely
illuminated; there were all the beauties, all the jewels, and all
the sugarplums of Florence. Servants loaded with great chargers
full of comfits heap the tables with them, the women fall on with
both hands, and stuff their pockets and every creek and corner
about them. You would be as much amazed at us as at any thing
you saw: instead of being deep in the arts, and being in the
Gallery every morning, as I thought
of course to be sure I would be, we are in all the idleness and
amusements of the town. For me, I am grown so lazy, and so
tired-of seeing sights, that, though I have been at
Florence six months, I have not seen Leghorn, Pisa, Lucca, or
Pistoia; nay, not so much as one of the Great Duke's
villas. I have contracted so great an aversion to
postchaises, and have so absolutely lost all curiosity, that,
except the towns in the straight road to Great Britain, I
shall scarce see a jot more of a foreign land; and trust me, when
I returt), I will not visit the Welsh mountains, like Mr.
Williams. After Mount Cenis, the Boccheto, the Giogo,
Radicofani, and the Appian Way, one has mighty little hunger
after travelling. I shall be mighty apt to set up my staff at
Hyde Park corner: the alehouseman there at Hercules's
Pillars(216) was certainly returned from his travels into
foreign parts.

Now I'll answer your questions.

I have made no discoveries in ancient or modern arts. Mr.
Addison travelled through the poets, and not through Italy; for
all his ideas are borrowed from the descriptions, and not from
the reality. He saw places as they were, not as they are. I am
very well acquainted with Dr. Cocchi; (217) he is a good sort of
man, rather than a great man; he is a plain
honest creature, with quiet knowledge, but I dare say all the
English have told you, he has a very particular understanding: I
really don't believe they meant to impose on you, for they
thought so. As to Bondelmonti, he is much less; he is a low
mimic; the brightest cast of his parts attains to the
composition of a sonnet: he talks irreligion with- English boys,
sentiment with my sister, (218) and bad French with any one that
will hear him. I will transcribe you a little song that he made
t'other day; 'tis pretty enough; Gray turned it into Latin, and I
into English; you will honour him highly by putting it into
French, and Asheton into Greek. Here 'tis.
Spesso Amor sotto la forma
D'amista ride, e s'asconde;
Poi si mischia, e si confonde
Con lo sdegno e col rancor.

In pietade ei si trasforma,
Pas trastullo e par dispetto;
ma nel suo diverso aspetto,
Sempre egli `a l'istesso Amor.

Risit amicitiae interd`um velatus amictu,
Et ben`e composit`a veste fefellit Amor:
Mox irae assumpsit cultus faciemque minantem,
Inque odium versus, versus et in lacrymas:
Ludentem fuge, nec lacrymanti aut furenti;
Idem est dissimili semper in ore Deus.

Love often in the comely mien
Of friendship fancies to be seen;
Soon again he shifts his dress,
And wears disdain and rancour's face.

To gentle pity then he changes-
Thro' wantonness, thro' piques he ranges;

But in whatever shape he moves,
He's still himself, and still is Love.

See how we trifle! but one can't pass one's youth too
amusingly for one must grow old, and that in England; two
most serious circumstances, either of which makes people
gray in the twinkling of a bedstaff; for know you there is not a
country upon earth where there are so many old fools and so few
young ones.

Now I proceed in my answers.

I made but small collections, and have only bought some
bronzes and medals, a few busts, and two or three pictures: one
of my busts is to be mentioned; 'tis the famous
vespasian in touchstone, reckoned the best in Rome, except the
Caracalia of the Farnese- I gave but twenty-two POUDds for it at
Cardinal Ottoboni's sale. One of my medals is as great a
curiosity; 'tis of Alexander Severus, with the
amphitheatre in brass; this reverse is extant on medals of his,
but mine is a medagliuncino, or small medallion, and
The Only one with this reverse known in the world: 'twas
found by a peasant while I was in Rome, and sold by him for
sixpence to an antiquarian, to whom I paid for it seven
guineas and a half: but to virtuosi 'tis worth any SUM.

As to Tartini's (219) musical compositions, ask Gray; I know but
little in music.

But for the Academy, I am not of it, but frequently in
company with it: 'tis all disjointed. Madame * * *, who,
though a learned lady, has not lost her modesty and
character, is extremely scandalized with the other two
dames, especially Moll Worthless, who knows no bounds. She is at
rivalry with Lady W. for a certain Mr. * * *, whom
perhaps you knew at Oxford. If you did not, I'll tell you: he is
a grave young man by temper, and a rich one by
constitution; a shallow creature by nature, but a wit by the
grace of our women here, whom he deals with as of old with the
Oxford toasts. He fell into sentiments with my Lady W. and was
happy to catch her at Platonic love; but as she
seldom stops there, the poor man will be frightened out of his
senses when she shall break the matter to him; for he
never dreamt that her purposes were so naught. Lady Mary is so
far gone, that to get him from the mouth of her
antagonist she literally took him out to dance country
dances last night at a formal ball, where there was no
measure kept in laughing at her old, foul, tawdry, painted,
plastered personage. She played at pharaoh two or three
times at Princess Craon's, where she cheats horse and foot. She
is really entertaining: I have been reading her works, which she
lends out in manuscript, but they are too
womanish: I like few of her performances. I forgot to tell you a
good answer of Lady Pomfret to mr. W. *** who asked
her if she did not approve Platonic love. "Lord, sir," says she,
, "I am sure any one that knows me never heard that I had any
love but one, and there sit two proofs of it,"
pointing to her two daughters.

So I have given you a sketch of our employments, and
answered your questions, and will with pleasure as many more as
you have about you. Adieu! Was ever such a lon@ letter? But 'tis
nothing to what I shall have to say to you. I
shaft scold you for never telling us any news, public or
private, no deaths, riiarriages, or mishaps; no account of new
books: Oh, you are abominable! I could find it in my
heart to hate You if I did not love you so well; but we will
quarrel now, that we may be the better friends when we meet:
there is no danger of that, is there? Good night, whether
friend or foe! I am most sincerely Yours.

(215) Though brave, skilful, and enterprising Sir John
failed to acquire renown, in consequence of mere
accidents. On the breaking out of the Spanish war, he was
ordered to cruise in the Bay of Biscay; but, owing to
tempestuous weather, was compelled to put into port for the
winter. The following lines were addressed to him upon this
occasion:

"Homeward, oh! bend thy course; the seas are rough;
To the Land's End who sails has sailed enough." E.

(216) Walpole calls the Hercules' Pillars an
alehouse. Whatever it might have been at the period he
wrote, it is very certain that, after the peace of 1762, it was a
respectable tavern, where the Marquis of Granby, and other
persons of rank, particularly military men, had
frequent dinner parties, which were then fashionable. It
was also an inn of great repute among the west-country
gentlemen, coming to London for a few weeks, who thought
themselves fortunate if they could secure accommodations for
their families at the Hercules' Pillars. The spot where it once
stood, is now occupied by the noble mansion of the Duke of
Wellington.-E.

(217) Dr. Antonio Cocchi, a learned physician, resident at
Florence, who published a collection of Greek writers upon
medicine. He figures conspicuously in Spence's
Anecdotes.-E.

(218) Margaret Rolle, wife of Robert Walpole, eldest son of Sir
Robert Walpole, created Lord Walpole during the lifetime of his
father.

(219) Giuseppe Tartini of Padua, whom Viotti pronounced the last
great improver of the practice of the violin. Several of
Tartini's compositions are particularized in that amusing little
volume, "The Violin and its Professors," by Mr.
Dubourg, who has recorded in quaint verse the well-known
story of the "Devil's Sonata," a piece of diablerie, the
result of which is that to this day, Tartini's
tale hath made all fiddlers say, A hard sonata is the devil to
play!-E.

166 Letter 28
To Richard West, Esq.
>From Florence, Nov. 1740.

Child, I am going to let you see your shocking proceedings with
us. On my conscience, I believe 'tis three months since you wrote
to either Gray or me. If you had been ill, Ashton would have
said so; and if you had been dead the gazettes
would have said it. If you had been angry,-but that's
impossible; how can one quarrel with folks three thousand
miles off? We are neither divines nor commentators, and
consequently have not hated you on paper. 'Tis to show that my
charity for you cannot be interrupted at this distance
that I write to you, though I have nothing to say, for 'tis a bad
time for small news; and when emperors and czarinas
are dying all up and down Europe, one can't pretend to tell you
of any thing that happens within our sphere. Not but
that we have our accidents too. if you have had a great wind in
England, we have had a great water at Florence. We have been
trying to set out every day, and pop upon you (220) * * * * * It
is fortunate that we stayed, for I don't know what had become of
us! Yesterday, with violent rains, there came flouncing down
from the mountains such a flood that it
floated the whole city. The jewellers on the Old Bridge
removed their commodities, -and in two hours after the
bridge was cracked. The torrent broke down the quays and
drowned several coach-horses, which are kept here in stables
under ground. We were moated into our house all day, which is
near the Arno, and had the miserable spectacles of the
ruins that were washed along with the hurricane. There was a
cart with two oxen not quite dead, and four men in it
drowned: but what was ridiculous, there came tiding along a fat
haycock, with a hen and her eggs, and a cat. The
torrent is considerably abated; but we expect terrible news from
the country, especially from Pisa, which stands so much lower,
and nearer the sea. There is a stone here, which,
when the water overflows, Pisa is entirely flooded. The
water rose two ells yesterday above that stone. Judge!

For this last month we have passed our time but dully; all
diversions silenced on the emperor's death, (221) and
everybody out of town. I have seen nothing but cards and
dull pairs of cicisbeos. I have literally seen so much love and
pharaoh since being here, that I believe I shall never love
either again SO long as I live. Then I am got in a
horrid lazy way of a morning. I don't believe I should know
seven o'clock in the morning again if I was to see it. But I am
returning to England, and shall grow very solemn and
wise! Are you wise'( Dear West, have pity on one who have
done nothing of gravity for these two years, and do laugh
sometimes. We do nothing else, and have contracted such
formidable ideas of the good people of England that we are
already nourishing great black eyebrows and great black
beards, and teasing our countenances into wrinkles. Then
for the common talk of the times, we are quite at a loss,
and for the dress. You would oblige us exceedingly by
forwarding to us the votes of the houses, the king's speech, and
the magazines; or if you had any such thing as a little book
called the Foreigner's Guide through the city of London and the
liberties of Westminster; or a letter to a
Freeholder; or the Political Companion: then 'twoulg be an
infinite obligation if you would neatly band-box up a baby
dressed after the newest Temple fashion now in use at both
play-houses. Alack-a-day! We shall just arrive in the
tempest of elections!

As our departure depends entirely upon the weather, we
cannot tell you to a day when we shall say Dear
West, how glad I am to see you! and all the many questions and
answers that we shall give and take. Would the day were come! Do
but figure to yourself the journey we are to pass through first!
But you can't conceive Alps, Apennines,
Italian inns, and postchaises. I tremble at the thoughts. They
were just sufferable while new and unknown, and as we met them by
the way in coming to Florence, Rome, and Naples; but they are
passed, and the mountains remain! Well, write to one in the
interim; direct to me addressed to Monsieur
Selwyn, chez Monsieur.Ilexandre, Rue St. Apolline, a Paris. If
Mr. Alexandre is not there, the street is, and I believe that
will be sufficient. Adieu, my dear child! Yours ever.

(220) A line of the manuscript is here torn away.

(221) Charles the Sixth, Emperor of Germany, upon whose
death, on the 9th of October, his eldest daughter,
Maria-Theresa, in virtue of the Pragmatic Sanction,
instantly succeeded to the whole Austrian inheritance.-E.

168 Letter 29
To The Rev. Joseph Spence. (222)
Florence, Feb. 21, 1741, N. S.

Sir,
Not having time last post, I begged Mr. Mann to thank you for the
obliging paragraph for me in your letter to him. But as I desire
a nearer correspondence with you than by third hands, I assure
you in my own proper person that I shall have great pleasure, on
our meeting in England, to renew an acquaintance that 'I began
with so much pleasure in Italy. (223) I Will not reckon you
among my modern friends, but in the first article of virtu: you
have given me so many new lights into a science that but a warmth
and freedom that will flow from my friendship, and which will not
be contained within the circle of a severe awe. As I shall always
be attentive to give you any satisfaction that lies in my power,
I take the first opportunity of sending you two little poems,
both by a hand that I know you esteem the most; if you have not
seen them, you will thank me for lilies of Mr. Pope: if you have,
why I did not know it.

I don't know whether Lord Lincoln has received any orders to
return home: I had a letter from one of my brothers last
post to tell me from Sir Robert that he would have me leave Italy
as soon as possible, lest I should be shut up unawares by the
arrival of the Spanish troops; and that I might pass some time in
France if I had amind. I own I don't conceive how it is possible
these troops should arrive without its being known some time
before. And as to the Great Duke's dominions, one can always be
out of them in ten hours or less. If Lord Lincoln has not
received the same orders.. I shall believe what I now think, that
I am wanted for some other reason. I beg my kind love to Lord
Lincoln, and that Mr. Spence will believe me, his sincere humble
servant HOR. WALPOLE.

(222) The well-known friend of Pope and author of the
Polymetis, who was then travelling on the Continent with
Henry, Earl of Lincoln, afterwards Duke of Newcastle. See ante
p. 140, (Letter 14, and footnote 175).-E.

(223) This acquaintance proved of infinite service to
Walpole, shortly after the date of this letter, when he was laid
up with a quinsy at Reggio. Spence thus describes the
circumstance: "About three or four in the morning I was
surprised with a message, saying that Mr. Walpole was very much
worse, and desired to see me; I went, and found him
scarce able to speak. I soon learned from his servants that he
had been all the while without a physician, and had
doctored himself; so I immediately sent for the best aid the
place would afford, and despatched a messenger to the
minister at Florence, desiring him to send my friend Dr. Cocchi.
In about twenty-four hours I had the satisfaction to find Mr.
Walpole better: we left him in a fair way of recovery, and we
hope to see him next week at Venice. I had obtained leave of
Lord Lincoln to stay behind some days if he had been worse. You
see what luck one has sometimes in going out of one's way. If
Lord Lincoln had not wandered to
Reggio, Mr. Walpole (who is one of the best-natured and most
sensible young gentlemen England affords) would have, in all
probability, fallen a sacrifice to his disorder."-E.

169 Letter 30
To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Florence, March 25th, 1741, N. S.

Dear Hal,
You must judge by what you feel yourself of what I feel for
Selwyn's recovery, with the addition of what I have suffered from
post to post. But as I find the whole town have had the same
sentiments about him, (though I am sure few so strong as myself,)
I will not repeat what you have heard so much. I shall write to
him to-night, though he knows without my
telling him how very much I love him. To you, my dear Harry, I
am infinitely obliged for the three successive letters you wrote
me about him, which gave me double pleasure, as they showed your
attention for me at a time that you know I must be so unhappy;
and your friendship for him. Your account of Sir Robert's
victory (224) was so extremely well told, that I made Gray
translate it into French, and have showed it to all that could
taste It, or were inquisitive on the occasion. I have received a
print by this post that diverts me extremely; 'the Motion.' (225)
Tell me, dear, now, who made the design, and who took the
likenesses; they are admirable: the lines are as good as one sees
on such occasions. I wrote last post to Sir Robert, to wish him
joy; I hope he received my letter.

I was to have set out last Tuesday, but on Sunday came the news
of the Queen of Hungary being brought to bed of a son; (226) on
which occasion here will be great triumphs, operas and
masquerades, which detain me for a short time.

I won't make you any excuse for sending you the follOWing
lines; you have prejudice enough for me to read with patience any
Of My idlenesses. (227)

My dear Harry, you enrage me with talking of another journey to
Ireland; it will shock me if I don't find you at my return: pray
take care and be in England.

I wait with some patience to see Dr. Middleton's Tully, as I read
the greatest part of it in manuscript; though indeed 'tis rather
a reason for my being impatient to read the rest. If Tully can
receive any additional honour, Dr. Middleton is most capable of
conferring it. (228)

I receivc with great pleasure any remembrances of my lord and
your sisters; I long to see all of you. Patapan is so
handsome that he has been named the silver fleece; and there is a
new order of knighthood to be erected to his honour, in
opposition to the golden. Precedents are searching, and plans
drawing up for that purpose. I hear that the natives pretend to
be companions, upon the authority of their dogskin
waistcoats; but a council that has been held on purpose has
declared their pretensions impertinent. Patapan has lately taken
wife unto him, as ugly as he is genteel, but of a very great
family, being the direct heiress of Canis Scaliger, Lord of
Verona: which principality we design to seize `a la
Prussienne; that is, as soon as ever we shall have persuaded the
republic of Venice that we are the best friends they have in the
world. Adieu, dear child!
Yours ever.

P. S. I left my subscriptions for Middleton's Tully with Mr.
Selwyn; I won't trouble him, but I wish you would take care and
get the books, if Mr. S. has kept the list.

(224) On the event of Mr. Sandys' motion in the House of
commons to remove Sir Robert Walpole from the King's presence and
councils for ever. [The motion was negatived by 290
against 106: an unusual majority, which proceeded from the schism
between the Tories and the Whigs, and the secession of Shippen
and his friends. The same motion was made by
Lord-Carteret in the House of Lords, and negatived by 108
against 59.-E.)

(225) The print alluded to exhibits an interesting view of
Whitehall, the Treasury, and adjoining buildings, as they
stood at the time. The Earl of Chesterfield, as postilion of a
coach which is going full speed towards the Treasury, drives over
all in his way. The Duke of Argyle is coachman,
flourishing a sword instead of a whip; while Doddington is
represented as a spaniel, sitting between his legs. Lord
Carteret, perceiving the coach about to be overturned, is
calling to the coachman,"Let me get out!" Lord Cobbam, as the
footman, is holding fast on by the straps; while Lord
Lyttleton is ambling by the side on a rosinante as thin as
himself. Smallbrook, Bishop of Lichfield, is bowing
obsequiously as they pass; while Sandys, letting fall the
place-bill, exclaims, ,I thought what would come of putting him
on the box." In the foreground is Pulteney, leading
several figures by strings from their noses, and wheeling a
barrow filled with the Craftsman's Letters, Champion, State of
the Nation, and Common Sense, exclaiming, "Zounds, they are
over!" This caricature, and another, entitled " The Political
Libertines, or Motion upon Motion," had been provoked by one put
forth by Sir Robert Walpole's opponents, entitled "The Grounds
for the Motion;" and were followed up by another from the
supporters of Sandys' motion, entitled "The Motive or
Reason for his Triumph," which the caricaturist attributes
entirely to bribery.-E.