Books: The Letters of Horace Walpole, Volume 1

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(965) In speaking of this address of the King of Prussia, Lady
Hervey, in a letter of the 17th, says, "I think it very well
and very artfully drawn for his purpose, and very
impertinently embarrassing to our King. He is certainly a
very artful prince, and I cannot but think his projects and
his ambition still more extensive, than people at present
imagine them."-E.

(66) On the death of his father this son succeeded to the
earldom in 1763. He died in 1776, when the title became
extinct.-E.

(967) Charles Poulett, third Duke of Bolton.

(968) The Hon, Charles Fielding, third son of William, third
Earl of Denbigh; a lieutenant-colonel in the guards, and
Gentleman-usher to Queen Caroline. He died in 1765.-E.

(969) Lord Stair.-D.

387 Letter 147
To Sir Horace Mann.
Houghton, Sept. 1, 1744.

I wish you joy of your victory at Velletri!(970) I call it
yours, for you are the great spring of all that war. I intend
to publish your life, with an Appendix, that shall contain all
the letters to you from princes, cardinals, and great men of
the time. In speaking of Prince Lobkowitz's attempt to seize
the King of Naples at Velletri, I shall say: "for the share
our hero had in this great action, vide the Appendix, Card.
Albani's letter, p. 14." You shall no longer be the dear
Miny, but Manone, the Great Man; you shall figure with the
Great Pan, and the Great Patapan. I wish you and your laurels
and your operations were on the Rhine, in Piedmont, or in
Bohemia; and then Prince Charles would not have repassed the
first, nor the Prince of Conti advanced within three days of
Turin, and the King of Prussia would already have been
terrified from entering the last-all this lumping bad news
came to counterbalance your Neapolitan triumphs. Here is all
the war to begin again! and perhaps next winter a second
edition of Dunkirk. We could not even have the King of France
die, though he was so near it. He was in a woful fright, and
promised the Bishop of Soissons, that if he lived, he would
have done with his women.(971) A man with all these crowns on
his head, and attaching and disturbing all those on the heads
of other princes, who is the soul of all the havoc and ruin
that has been and is to be spread through Europe in this war,
haggling thus for his bloody life, and cheapening it at the
price of a mistress or two! and this was the fellow that they
fetched to the army to drive the brave Prince Charles beyond
the Rhine again. It is just Such another paltry mortal(972)
that has fetched him back into Bohemia-I forget which of his
battles(973) it was, that when his army had got the victory,
they could not find the King: he had run away for a whole day
without looking behind him.

I thank you for the particulars of the action, and the list of
the prisoners: among them is one Don Theodore Diamato Amor, a
cavalier of so romantic a name, that my sister and Miss Leneve
quite interest themselves in his captivity; and make their
addresses to you, who, they hear, have such power with Prince
Lobkowitz, to obtain his liberty. If he has Spanish gallantry
in any proportion to his name, he will immediately come to
England, and vow himself their knight.

Those verses I sent you on Mr. Pope, I assure you, were not
mine; I transcribed them from the newspapers; from whence I
must send you a very good epigram on Bishop Berkeley's
tar-water:

"Who dare deride what pious Cloyne has done?
The Church shall rise and vindicate her son;
She tells us, all her Bishops shepherds are-
And shepherds heal their rotten sheep with tar."

I am not at all surprised at my Lady Walpole's ill-humour to
you about the messenger. If the resentments of women did not
draw them into little dirty spite, their hatred would be very
dangerous; but they vent the leisure they have to do mischief
in a thousand meannesses, which only serve to expose
themselves.

Adieu! I know nothing here but public politics, of which I
have already talked to you, and which you hear as soon as I
do.

Thank dear Mr. Chute for his letter; I will answer it very
soon; but in the country I am forced to let my pen lie fallow
between letter and letter.

(970) The Austrians had formed a scheme to surprise the
Neapolitan King and general at Velletri, and their first
column penetrated into the place, but reinforcements coming
up, they were repulsed with considerable slaughter.-E.

(971) On the 8th of August, Louis the Fifteenth was seized at
Metz, on his march to Alsace, with a malignant putrid fever,
which increased so rapidly, that, in a few days, his life was
despaired of. In his illness, he dismissed his reigning
mistress, Madame de Chateauroux.-E.

(972) The King of Prussia.

(973) The battle of Molwitz.

388 Letter 148
To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Houghton, Oct. 6, 1744.

My dearest Harry,
My lord bids me tell you how much he is obliged to you for
your letter, and hopes you will accept my answer for his.
I'll tell you what, we shall both be obliged to you if you
will inclose a magnifying-glass in your next letters; for your
two last were in so diminutive a character, that we were
forced to employ all Mrs. Leneve's spectacles, besides an
ancient family reading-glass, with which my grandfather used
to begin the psalm, to discover what you said to us. Besides
this, I have a piece of news for you: Sir Robert Walpole, when
he was made Earl of Orford, left the ministry, and with it the
palace in Downing-street; as numbers of people found out three
years ago, who, not having your integrity, were quick in
perceiving the change of his situation. Your letter was full
as honest as you; for, though directed to Downing-street, it
would not, as other letters would have done, address itself to
the present possessor. Do but think if it had! The smallness
of the hand would have immediately struck my Lord Sandys with
the idea of a plot; for what he could not read' at first
sight, he would certainly have concluded must be cipher.

I march next week towards London, and have already begun to
send my heavy artillery before me, consisting of half-a-dozen
books and part of my linen: my light-horse, commanded by
Patapan, follows this day se'nnight. A detachment of hussars
surprised an old bitch fox yesterday morning, who had lost a
leg in a former engagement; and then, having received advice
of another litter being advanced as far as Darsingham, Lord
Walpole commanded Captain Riley's horse, with a strong party
of foxhounds, to overtake them; but on the approach of our
troops the enemy stole off, and are now encamped at Sechford
common, whither we every hour expect orders to pursue them.

My dear Harry, this is all I have to tell you, and, to my
great joy, which you must forgive me, is full as memorable as
any part of the Flanders campaign. I do not desire to have
you engaged in the least more glory than you have been. I
should not love the remainder of you the least better for your
having lost an arm or a leg, and have as full persuasion of
your courage as if you had contributed to the slicing off
twenty pair from French officers. Thank God. you have sense
enough to content yourself without being a hero! though I
don't quite forget your expedition a hussar-hunting the
beginning of this campaign. Pray, no more of those jaunts. I
don't know any body you would oblige with a present of such
game - for my part, a fragment of the oldest hussar on earth
should never have a place in my museum-they are not antique
enough; and for a live one, I must tell you, I like my raccoon
infinitely better.

Adieu! my dear Harry. I long to see you, You will easily
believe the thought I have of being particularly well with you
is a vast addition to my impatience, though you know it is
nothing new to me to be overjoyed at your return. Yours ever.

390 Letter 149
To Sir Horace Mann.
Houghton, Oct. 6, 1744.

Does decency insist upon one's writing within certain periods,
when one has nothing to say? because, if she does, she is the
most formal, ceremonious personage I know. I shall not enter
into a dispute with her, as my Lady Hervey did with the
goddess of Indolence, or with the goddess of letter-writing, I
forget which, in a long letter that she sent to the Duke of
Bourbon; because I had rather write than have a dispute about
it. Besides, I am not at all used to converse with
hierglyphic ladies. But, I do assure you, it is merely to
avoid scolding that I set about this letter: I don't mean your
scolding, for you are all goodness to me; but my own scolding
of myself-a correction I stand in great awe of, and which I am
sure never to escape as often as I am to blame. One can scold
other people again, or smile and jog one's foot, and affect
not to mind it; but those airs won't do with oneself; One
always comes by the worst in a dispute with one's own
conviction.

Admiral Matthews sent me down hither your great packet: I am
charmed with your prudence, and with the good sense of your
orders for the Neapolitan expedition; I won't say your good
nature, which is excessive for I think your tenderness of the
little Queen(974) a little outree, especially as their
apprehensions might have added great weight to your menaces.
I would threaten like a corsair, though I would conquer with
all the good-breeding of a Scipio. I most devoutly wish you
success; you are sure of having me most happy with any honour
you acquire. You have quite soared above all fear of
Goldsworthy, and, I think, must appear of consequence to any
ministry. I am much obliged to you for the medal, and like
the design: I shall preserve it as part of your works.

I can't forgive what you say to me about the coffee-pot: one
would really think that you looked upon me as an old woman
that had left a legacy to be kept for her sake, and a curse to
attend the parting with it. My dear child, is it treating me
justly to enter into the detail of your reasons? was it even
necessary to say, ,I have changed your coffee-pot for some
other plate?"

I have nothing to tell you but that I go to town next week,
and will then write you all I hear. Adieu!

(974) The Queen of Naples,-Maria of Saxony, wife of Charles
the Third, King of Naples, and subsequently, on the death of
his elder brother, King of Spain. This alludes to the
Austrian campaign in the Neapolitan territories, the attack on
the town of Velletri, etc.-E.

391 Letter 150
To Sir Horace Mann.
Arlington Street, Oct 19, 1744.

I have received two or three letters from you since I wrote to
you last, and all contribute to give me fears for your
situation at Florence. How absurdly all the Queen's ban
haughtinesses are dictated to her by her ministers, or by her
own Austriacity! She lost all Silesia because she would not
lose a small piece of it, and she is going to lose Tuscany for
want of a neutrality, because she would not accept one for
Naples, even after all prospect of conquering it was vanished.
Every thing goes ill! the King of Sardinia beaten; and to-day
we hear of Coni lost! You will see in the papers too, that the
Victory, our finest ship, is lost, with Sir John Balchen and
nine hundred men.(975) The expense alone of the ship is
computed at above two hundred thousand pounds. We have
nothing good but a flying report of a victory of Prince
Charles over the Prussian, who, it 'Is said, has lost ten
thousand men, and both his legs by a cannon-ball. I have no
notion of his losing them, but by breaking them in over-hurry
to run away. However, it comes from a Jew, who had the first
news of the passage of the Rhine.(976) But, my dear child,
how will this comfort me, if you are not to remain in peace at
Florence! I tremble as I write!

Yesterday morning carried off those two old beldamss, Sarah of
Marlborough and the (.countess Granville;(977) so now
Uguccioni's(978) epithalamium must be new-tricked out in
titles, for my Lady Carteret is Countess! Poor Bistino! I wish
my Lady Pomfret may leave off her translation of Froissart to
English the eight hundred and forty heroics! When I know the
particulars of old Marlborough's will, you shall.

My Lord Walpole has promised me a letter for young Gardiner;
who, by the way, has pushed his fortune en vrai b`atard,
without being so, for it never was pretended that he was my
brother's - he protests he is not; but the youth has profited
of his mother's gallantries.

I have not seen Admiral Matthews yet, but I take him to be
very mad. He walks in the Park with a cockade of three
/colours: the Duke desired a gentleman to ask him the meaning,
and all the answer he would give was, "The Treaty of Worms!
the treaty of Worms!" I design to see him, thank him for my
packet, and inquire after the cases.

it is a most terrible loss for his parents, Lord
Beauchamp's(979) death: if they were out of the question, one
could not be sorry for such a mortification to the pride of
old Somerset. He has written the most shocking letter
imaginable to poor Lord Hertford, telling him that it is a
judgment upon him for all his undutifulness, and that he must
always look upon himself. as the cause of' his son's death.
Lord Hertford is as good a man as lives, and has always been
most unreasonably ill-used by that old tyrant. The title of'
Somerset will revert to Sir Edward Seymour, whose line has
been most unjustly deprived of it from the first creation.
The Protector when only Earl of Hertford, married a great
heiress, and had a Lord Beauchamp, who was about twenty when
his mother died. His father then married an Anne Stanhope,
with whom he was In love, and not only procured an act of
parliament to deprive Lord Beauchamp of' his honours and to
settle the title of Somerset, which he was going to have, on
the children of' this second match, but took from him even his
mother's fortune. From him descended Sir Edward Seymour, the
Speaker, who, on King William's landing, when he said to him,
"Sir Edward, I think you are of the Duke of Somerset's
family!" replied, "No, Sir: he is of mine."

Lord Lincoln was married last Tuesday, and Lord Middlesex will
be very soon. Have you heard the gentle manner of the French
King's dismissing Madame de Chateauroux? In the very circle,
the Bishop of Soissons(980) told her, that, as the scandal the
King had given with her was public, his Majesty thought his
repentance ought to be so too, and that he therefore forbade
her the court; and then turning to the monarch, asked him if
that was not his pleasure, who replied, Yes. They have taken
away her pension too, and turned out even laundresses that she
had recommended for the future Dauphiness. A-propos to the
Chateauroux: there is a Hanoverian come over, who was so
ingenuous as to tell Master Louis,(981) how like he is to M.
Walmoden. You conceive that "nous autres souvereins nous
n'aimons pas qu'on se m`eprenne aux gens:" we don't love that
our Fitzroys should be scandalized with any mortal
resemblance.

I must tell you a good piece of discretion of a Scotch
soldier, whom Mr. Selwyn met on Bexley Heath walking back to
the army. He had met with a single glove at Higham, which had
been left there last year in an inn by an officer now in
Flanders: this the fellow was carrying in hopes of a little
money; but, for fear he should lose the glove, wore it all the
way.

Thank you for General Braitwitz's deux potences.(982) I hope
that one of them, at least will rid us of the Prussian.
Adieu! my dear child: all my wishes are employed about
Florence.

(975) The Victory, of a hundred and ten brass guns, was lost,
between the 4th and 5th of October, near Alderney.-E.

(976) This report proved to be without foundation.

(977) Mother of John, Lord Carteret, who succeeded her in the
title.

(978) A Florentine, who had employed an abbe of his
acquaintance to write an epithalamium on Lord Carteret's
marriage, consisting of eight hundred and forty Latin lines.
Sir H. Mann had given an account of the composition of this
piece of literary flattery in one of his letters to
Walpole.-D.

(979) Only son of Algernon, Earl of Hertford, afterwards the
last Duke of Somerset of that branch. [lord Beauchamp was
seized with the smallpox at Bologna, and, after an illness of
four days, died on the 11th of September; on which day he had
completed his nineteenth year.]

(980) Son of Fitzjames, Duke of Berwick. This Bishop of
Soissons, on the King being given over at Metz, prevailed on
him to part with his mistress, the Duchess de Chateauroux; but
the King soon recalled her, and confined the bishop to his
diocese.

(981) Son of King George II. by Madame Walmoden, created
Countess of Yarmouth.

(982) General Braitwitz, commander of the Queen of Hungary's
troops in Tuscany, speaking of the two powers, his mistress
and the King of Sardinia, instead of' saying "ces deux
pouvoirs," said "ces deux potences."

393 Letter 151
To Sir Horace Mann.
Arlington Street, Nov. 9, 1744.

I find I must not wait any longer for news, if I intend to
keep up our correspondence. Nothing happens; nothing has
since I wrote last, but Lord Middlesex's wedding;(983) which
was over above a week before it was known. I believe the
bride told it then; for he and all his family are so silent,
that they Would never have mentioned it: she might have popped
out a child, before a single Sackville would have been at the
expense of a syllable to justify her.

Our old acquaintance, the Pomfrets, are not so reserved about
their great matrimony: the new Lady Granville was at home the
other night for the first time of her being mistress of the
house. I was invited, for I am in much favour with them all,
but found myself extremely d`eplac`e: there was nothing but
the Winchilseas and Baths, and the Gleanings of a party
stuffed out into a faction, some foreign ministers, and the
whole blood of Fermor. My Lady Pomfret asked me if I
corresponded still with the Grifona: "No," I said, "since I
had been threatened with a regale of hams and Florence wine, I
had dropped it." My Lady Granville said, "You was afraid of
being thought interested."--"Yes," said the queen-mother, with
all the importance with which she used to blunder out pieces
of heathen mythology, "I think it was very ministerial."
Don't you think that the Minister word came in as awkwardly as
I did into their room? The Minister is most gracious to me;
he has returned my visit, which, you know, IS never practised
by that rank: I put it all down to my father's account, who is
not likely to keep up the civility.

You will see the particulars of old Marlborough's will in the
Evening Posts of this week: it is as extravagant as one should
have expected; but I delight in her begging that no part of
the Duke of Marlborough's life may be written in verse by
Glover and Mallet, to whom she gives five hundred pounds
apiece for writing it in prose.(984) There is a great deal of
humour in the thought: to be sure the spirit of the dowager
Leonidas(985) inspired her with it.

All public affairs in agitation at present go well for us;
Prince Charles in Bohemia, the raising of the siege of Coni,
and probably of that of Fribourg, are very good circumstances.
I shall be very tranquil this winter, if Tuscany does not come
into play, or another scene of invasion. In a fortnight meets
the Parliament; nobody guesses what the turn of the Opposition
will be. Adieu! My love to the Chutes. I hope you now and
then make my other compliments: I never forget the Princess,
nor (ware hams!) the Grifona.

(983) The Earl of Middlesex married Grace, daughter and sole
heiress of Lord Shannon. On the death of his father in 1765,
he succeeded, as second Duke of Dorset, and died without
issue, in 1769.-E.

(984) Glover, though in embarrassed circumstances at the time,
renounced the legacy; Mallet accepted it, but never fulfilled
the terms.-E.

(985) Glover wrote a dull heroic poem on the action of
Leonidas at Thermopylae. ["Though far indeed from being a
vivid or arresting picture of antiquity, Leonidas," says Mr.
Campbell, "the local descriptions of Leonidas, its pure
sentiments, and the classical images which it recalls, render
it interesting, as the monument of an accomplished and amiable
mind."]

394 Letter 152
To Sir Horace Mann.
Arlington Street, Nov. 26, 1744.

I have not prepared for you a great event, because it was
really,
so unlikely to happen, that I was afraid of being the author
of a mere political report; but, to keep you no longer in
suspense, Lord Granville has resigned: that is the term
"l'honn`ete fa`con de parler;" but, in few words, the truth of
the history is, that the Duke of Newcastle (by the way, mind
that the words I am going to use are not mine, but his
Majesty's,) "being grown as jealous of Lord Granville(986) as
he had been of Lord Orford, and wanting to be first minister
himself, which, a puppy! how should he be?" (autre phrase
royale) and his brother being as susceptible of the noble
passion of jealousy as he is, have long been conspiring to
overturn the great lord. Resolution and capacity were all
they wanted to bring it about; for the imperiousness and
universal contempt which their rival had for them, and for the
rest of the ministry, and for the rest of the nation, had made
almost all men his engines; and, indeed, he took no pains to
make friends: his maxim was, "Give any man the Crown on his
side, and he can defy every thing." Winnington asked him, if
that were true, how he came to be minister? About a fortnight
ago, the whole cabinet-council, except Lord Bath, Lord
Winchilsea, Lord Tweedale, the Duke of Bolton, and my good
brother-in-law,(987) (the two last severally bribed with the
promise of Ireland,) did venture to let the King know, that he
must part with them or with Lord Granville. The monarch does
not love to be forced, and his son is full as angry. Both
tried to avoid the rupture. My father was sent for, but
excused himself from coming till last Thursday, and even then
would not ,go to the King; and at last gave his opinion very
unwillingly. But on Saturday it was finally determined: Lord
Granville resigned the seals, which are given back to my Lord
President Harrington. Lord Winchilsea quits too; but for all
the rest of that connexion, they have agreed not to quit, but
to be forced out: so Mr. Pelham must have a new struggle to
remove every one. He can't let them stay in; because, to
secure his power, he must bring in Lord Chesterfield, Pitt,
the chief patriots, and perhaps some Tories. The King has
declared that my Lord Granville has his opinion and
affection-the Prince warmly and openly espouses him. Judge
how agreeably the two brothers will enjoy their ministry!
To-morrow the Parliament meets: all in suspense! every body
will be staring at each other! I believe the war will still go
on, but a little more Anglicized. For my part, I behold all
with great tranquillity; I cannot --be sorry for Lord
Granville,-for he certainly sacrificed everything to please
the King; I cannot be glad for the Pelhams, for they sacrifice
every thing to their own jealousy and ambition.

Who are mortified, are the fair Sophia and Queen Stanislaus.
However, the daughter carries it off heroically: the very
night of her fall she went to the Oratorio. I talked to her
much, and recollected all that had been said to me upon the
like occasion three years ago: I succeeded, and am invited to
her assembly next Tuesday. Tell Uguccioni that she still
keeps conversazioni, or he will hang himself. She had no
court, but an ugly sister and the fair old-fashioned Duke of
Bolton. It put me in mind of a scene in Harry VIII., where
Queen Catherine appears after her divorce, with Patience her
waiting-maid, and Griffith her gentleman-usher.

My dear child, voil`a le monde! are you as great a philosopher
about it as I am? You cannot imagine how I entertain myself,
especially as all the ignorant flock hither, and conclude that
my lord must be minister again. Yesterday, three bishops came
to do him homage; and who should be one of them but Dr.
Thomas.(988) the only man mitred by Lord Granville! As I was
not at all mortified with our fall, I am only diverted with
this imaginary restoration. They little think how incapable
my lord is of business again. He has this whole summer been
troubled with bloody water upon the least motion; and to-day
Ranby assured me, that he has a stone in his bladder, which he
himself believed before: so now he must never use the least
exercise, never go into a chariot again; and if ever to
Houghton, in a litter. Though this account will grieve you, I
tell it you, that you may know what to expect; yet it is
common for people to live many years in his situation.

if you are not as detached from every thing as I am, you will
wonder at my tranquillity, to be able to write such variety in
the midst of hurricanes. It costs me nothing; so I shall
write on, and tell you an adventure of my own. The town has
been trying all this winter to beat pantomimes off the stage,
very boisterously; for it is the way here to make even an
affair of taste and sense a matter of riot and arms.
Fleetwood, the master of Drury-Lane, has omitted nothing to
support them, as they supported his house. About ten days
ago, he let into the pit great numbers of Bear-garden bruisers
(that is the term), to knock down every body that hissed. The
pit rallied their forces, and drove them out: I was sitting
very quietly in the side-boxes, contemplating all this. On a
sudden the curtain flew up, and discovered the whole stage
filled with blackguards, armed with bludgeons and clubs, to
menace the audience. This raised the greatest uproar; and
among the rest, who flew 'into a passion, but your friend the
philosopher. In short, one of the actors, advancing to the
front of the stage to make an apology for the manager, he had
scarce begun to say, "Mr. Fleetwood--" when your friend, with
a most audible voice and dignity of anger, called out, "He is
an impudent rascal!" The whole pit huzzaed, and repeated the
words. Only think of my being a popular orator! But what was
still better, while my shadow of a person was dilating to the
consistence of a hero, One of the chief ringleaders of the
riot, coming under the box where I sat, and pulling off his
hat, said, "Mr. Walpole, what would you please to have us do
next?" It is impossible to describe to you the confusion into
which this apostrophe threw me. I sank down into the box, and
have never since ventured to set my foot into the playhouse.
The next night, the uproar was repeated with greater violence,
and nothing was heard but voices calling out, "Where's Mr. W.?
where's Mr. W.?" In short, the whole town has been
entertained with my prowess, and Mr. Conway has given me the
name of Wat Tyler; which, I believe, would have stuck by me,
if this new episode of Lord Granville had not luckily
interfered.