Books: The Letters of Horace Walpole, Volume 2

H >> Horace Walpole >> The Letters of Horace Walpole, Volume 2

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 | 43 | 44 | 45 | 46 | 47 | 48 | 49 | 50 | 51 | 52 | 53 | 54 | 55 | 56 | 57 | 58 | 59 | 60 | 61

In this buzz is all the world at present: as the plot thickens
or opens, you shall hear more. In the mean time you will not
dislike to know a little of the circumstances of this death.
Mr. Pelham was not sixty-one; his florid, healthy constitution
promised long life, and his uninterrupted good fortune as long
power; yet the one hastened his end, and the other was enjoyed
in its full tranquillity but three poor years! i should not
say, enjoyed, for such was his peevishness and suspicions, that
the lightest trifles could poison all that stream of happiness!
he was careless of his health, most intemperate in eating, and
used no exercise. All this had naturally thrown him into a
most scorbutic habit, for which last summer he went to
Scarborough, but stayed there only a month, which would not
have cleansed a scorbutic kitten. The sea-air increased his
appetite, and his flatterers pampered it at their seats on the
road. He returned more distempered, and fell into a succession
of boils, fevers, and St. Anthony's fire--indeed, I think, into
such a carbuncular state of blood as carried off my brother.
He had recovered enough to come to the House of Commons; and
last Friday walked in the Park till he put himself into an
immense sweat; in that sweat he stood at a window to look at
horses, ate immoderately at dinner, relapsed at six that
evening, and died yesterday morning (Wednesday) a quarter
before six. His will was to be opened to-day; he is certainly
dead far from rich.(468) There arc great lamentations, some
joy, some disappointments, and much expectation. As a person
who loves to write history, better than to act in it, you will
easily believe that I confine my sensations on the occasion
chiefly to observation-at least, my care that posterity may
know all about it prevents my indulging any immoderate (grief;
consequently I am as well as can be expected, and ever yours,
etc.

(467) Henry Pelham, chancellor of the exchequer, and first
commissioner of the treasury; only brother of Thomas Duke of
Newcastle.

(468) Walpole, almost the only author who has treated the
memory of Mr. Pelham with disrespect, mentions to his honour,
that he "lived without abusing his power, and died poor." See
Memoires, vol. i. p. 332. By this expression, says Coxe, the
reader will be reminded of a curious coincidence in the
concluding lines of the eulogium inscribed on the base of Mr.
Pitt's statue, by his friend and pupil, the Right Honourable
George Canning, "Dispensing, for more than twenty years, the
favours of the crown, he lived without ostentation, and he died
poor."-E.

200 Letter 94
To Richard Bentley, Esq.
Arlington Street, March 14, 1754.

In the confusion of things, I last week hazarded a free letter
to you by the common post. The confusion is by no means
ceased. However, as some circumstances may have rendered a
desire of intelligence necessary, I send this by the coach,
with the last volume of Sir Charles Grandison, for its
chaperon.

After all the world has been named for chancellor of the
exchequer, and my Lord Chief Justice Lee, who is no part of the
world, really made so pro tempore; Lord Hartington went to
notify to Mr. Fox, that the cabinet council having given it as
their unanimous opinion to the King, that the Duke of Newcastle
should be at the head of the treasury, and he (Mr. Fox)
secretary of state with the management of the House of Commons;
his grace, who had submitted to so oracular a sentence, hoped
Mr. Fox would not refuse to concur in so salutary a measure;
and assured him, that Though the Duke would reserve the sole
disposition of the secret service-money, his grace would bestow
his entire confidence on Mr. Fox, and acquaint him with the
most minute details of that service. Mr. Fox bowed and obeyed-
-and, as a preliminary step, received the Chancellor's(469)
absolution. From thence he attended his--and our new master.
But either grief for his brother's death, or joy for it, had so
intoxicated the new maitre du palais, that he would not ratify
any one of the conditions he had imposed: and though my Lord
Hartington's virtue interposed, and remonstrated on the purport
of the message he had carried, the Duke persisted in assuming
the whole and undivided power himself, and left Mr. Fox no
choice, but of obeying or disobeying, as he might choose. This
produced the next day a letter from Mr. Fox, carried by Lord
Hartington, in which he refused secretary of state, and pinned
down the lie with which the new ministry is to commence. It
was tried to be patched up at the Chancellor's on Friday night,
though ineffectually: and yesterday morning Mr. Fox in an
audience desired to remain secretary at war. The Duke
immediately kissed hands-declared, in the most unusual manner,
universal minister. Legge was to be chancellor of the
exchequer: but I can't tell whether that disposition will hold,
as Lord Duplin is proclaimed the acting favourite. The German
Sir Thomas Robinson was thought on for the secretary's seals;
but has just sense enough to be unwilling to accept them under
so ridiculous an administration. This is the first act of the
comedy.

On Friday this august remnant of the Pelhams went to court for
the first time. At the foot of the stairs he cried and sunk
down: the yeomen of the guard were forced to drag him up under
the arms. When the closet-door opened, he flung himself at his
length at the King's feet, sobbed, and cried "God bless your
Majesty! God preserve your Majesty," and lay there howling and
embracing the King's knees, with one foot so extended, that
Lord Coventry, who was luckily in waiting, and begged the
standers-by to retire with "For God's sake, gentlemen, don't
look at a great man in distress," endeavouring to shut the
door, caught his grace's foot, and made him roar out with pain.

You can have no notion of what points of ceremony have been
agitated about the ears of the family. George Selwyn was told
that my Lady Catharine had not shed one tear: "And pray," said
he, "don't she intend it?" It is settled that Mrs. Watson is
not to cry till she is brought-to-bed.

You love George Selwyn's bon-mots: this crisis has redoubled
them: here is one of his best. My Lord Chancellor is to be
Earl of Clarendon--"Yes," said Selwyn, from the very summit of
the whites of his demure eyes; "and I suppose he will get the
title of Rochester for his son-in-law, my Lord Anson." Do you
think he will ever lose the title of Lord Rochester?

I expected that we should have been overrun with elegies and
panegyrics: indeed, I comforted myself, that one word in all of
them would atone for the rest--the late Mr. Pelham. But the
world seems to allow that their universal attachment and
submission was universal interestedness; there has not been
published a single encomium. Orator Henley alone has held
forth in his praise:-yesterday it was on charming Lady
Catherine. Don't you think it should have been in these words,
in his usual style? Oratory-chapel,--Right reason; madness;
charming Lady Catherine; hell fire," etc.

Monday, March 18.

Almost as extraordinary news as our political, is, that it has
snowed ten days successively, and most part of each day: it is
living in Muscovy, amid ice and revolutions: I hope lodgings
will begin to let a little dear in Siberia! Beckford and
Delaval, two celebrated partisans, met lately at Shaftesbury,
where they oppose one another: the latter said:

"Art thou the man whom men famed Beckford call?"

T'other replied,

"Art thou the much more famous Delaval?"

But to leave politics and change of ministries, and to come to
something of real consequence, I must apply you to my library
ceiling, of which I send you some rudiments. I propose to have
it all painted by Clermont; the principal part in chiaro scuro,
on the design which you drew for the Paraclete: but as that
pattern would be surfeiting, so often repeated in an extension
of twenty feet by thirty, I propose to break and enliven it by
compartments in colours, according to the enclosed sketch,
which you must adjust and dimension. Adieu!

(469) With whom he was at variance.

'202 Letter 95
To George Montagu, Esq.
Arlington Street, March 19, 1754.

You will live in the country, and then you are amazed that
people use you ill. Don't mistake me: I don't mean that you
deserve to be ill-treated for living in the country; at least
only by those who love and miss you; but if you inhabited the
town a little, you would not quite so much expect uprightness,
nor be so surprised at ingratitude, and . neglect. I am far
from disposed to justify the great C`u; but when you had
declined being his servant, do you wonder that he will not
serve your friends! I will tell you what, if the news of to-day
holds at all, which is what no one piece of news of this last
fortnight has done, you may be worse used by your cousin as
soon as you please; for he is one of the first upon the list
for secretary of state, in the room of the Duke of Newcastle.
Now again, are you such a rusticated animal as to suppose that
the Duke is dismissed for inability, on the death of his
brother. So far from it, it is already certainly known that it
was he who supported Mr. Pelham, and the impediments and rubs
thrown in the way of' absolute power long ago were the effects
of the latter's timidity and irresolution. The Duke, freed
from that clog, has declared himself sole minister, and the
King has kissed his hand upon it. Mr. Fox, who was the only
man in England that objected to this plan, is to be sent to a
prison which is building on the coast of Sussex, after the
model of Fort l'Ev`eque, under the direction of Mr. Taaffe.

Harry Legge is to be chancellor of the exchequer, but the
declared favour rests on Lord Duplin. Sir George Lyttelton is
to be treasurer of the navy. The parliament is to be dissolved
on the fourth of next month: till when, I suppose, none of the
changes will take place. These are the politics of the day;
but as they are a little fluctuating, notwithstanding the
steadiness of the new first minister, I will not answer that
they will hold true to Greatworth: nothing lasts now but the
bad weather.

I went two days ago, with Lady Ailesbury, and Mr. Conway, and
Miss Anne, to hear the rehearsal of Mrs. Clive's new farce,
which is very droll, with pretty music.

202 Letter 96
To Sir Horace Mann.
Arlington Street, March 28, 1754.

I promised to write to you again soon, and therefore I do: that
Is, I stick to the letter, not to the essence; for I not Only
have very little to write, but your brother has, I believe,
already told you all that has happened. Mr. Fox received
almost at once a testimonial that he was the most proper for
minister, and a proof that he was not to be so. He on the
Tuesday consented to be secretary of state, with the management
of the House of Commons, and the very next day refused to be
the former, as he found he was not to have the latter. He
remains secretary at war, in rupture with the Duke of
Newcastle, (who, you know, has taken the treasury,) but
declaring against opposition. That Duke is omnipotent; and, to
show that power, makes use of nothing but machines. Sir Thomas
Robinson is secretary of state; Mr. Legge, chancellor of the
exchequer; Lord Duplin,(470) the agent of business.(471)
Yesterday an odd event happened: Lord Gower resigned the privy
seal: it had been for some time promised to the Duke of
Rutland,(472) who having been reported dead, and who really
having voided a quarry of stones, is come to town; and his
brother, a Lord William Manners, better known in the
groom-porter's annals than in those of Europe, and the whole
Manners family having intimated to the Duke of Newcastle that
unless Lord Gower was dismissed in a month, and the Duke of
Rutland instated in his place, they would oppose the prosperous
dawn of the new ministry, that poor Earl, who is inarticulate
with the palsy, has been drawn into a resignation, and is the
first sacrifice to the spirit of the new administration.(473)
You will very likely not understand such politics as these, but
they are the best we have.

Our old good-humoured friend Prince Craon is dead; don't you
think that the Princess will not still despair of looking well
in weeds! My Lord Orford's grandmother(474) is dead too; and
after her husband's death, (whose life, I believe, she has long
known to be not worth a farthing,) has left every thing to her
grandson. This makes me very happy, for I had apprehended,
from Lord Orford's indolence and inattention, and from his
mother's cunning and attention, that she would have wriggled
herself into the best clause in the will; but she is not
mentioned in it, and the Houghton pictures may still be saved.
Adieu! my dear Sir; I don't call this a letter, but a codicil
to my last: one can't write volumes on trifling events.

(470 Eldest son of William Hay, Earl of Kinnoul.

(471) For an account of the political changes which took place
upon the death of Mr. Pelham, see Lord Dover's Preface to these
Letters, vol. i. p. 29.-E.

(472) John Manners, third Duke of Rutland, the father of the
more celebrated Lord Granby. He died in 1779, at the age of
eighty-three.-D.

(473) The Duke of Rutland did not succeed to the privy seal;
but Charles Spencer, second Duke of Marlborough.-D.

(474) Margaret Tuckfield, second wife of Samuel Rolle, of
Haynton in Devonshire; by whom she was mother of Margaret
Countess of Orford, and afterwards married to John Harris, of
Hayne in Devonshire, master of the household to the King.

204 Letter 97
To Sir Horace Mann.
Strawberry Hill, April 24, 1754.

Before I received your letter of March 29th, I had already told
you the state of our politics, as they seemed fixed--at least
for the present. The Duke of Newcastle is alone and all
powerful, and, I suppose, smiles at those who thought that we
must be governed by a succession of geniuses. I don't know
whether there arc not more parts in governing without genius!-
-be it as it will, all the world acquiesces: he has placed all
the orators in whatever offices they demanded, and the New
Parliament, which is almost chosen, will not probably
degenerate from the complaisance of its predecessor. Which of
the popes was it, who being chosen for his insufficience, said,
"I could not have believed that it was so easy to govern!" You
will forgive my smiling in my turn at your begging me to lay
aside family considerations, and tell you if I do not think my
uncle the fittest subject for a first minister. My dear child,
you have forgot that three years are past since I so totally
laid aside all family considerations, as not to speak or even
bow to my uncle. Since the affair of Lord Orford and Miss
Nichol], I have not had the least intercourse with the
Pigwiggin branch; and should be very sorry if there were any
person in the world but you, and my uncle himself, who thought
him proper for minister.

I believe there is no manner of intention of sending Lord
Albemarle to Ireland: the style toward that island is extremely
lofty; and after some faint proposals of giving them some
agreeable governor, violent measures have been resumed: the
Speaker is removed from being chancellor of the exchequer, more
of his friends are displaced, and the Primate, with the
Chancellor and Lord Besborough, are again nominated lords
Justices. These measures must oppress the Irish spirit, or,
what is more likely, inflame it to despair. Lord Rochford
certainly returns to Turin. General Wall, who was in the
highest favour here, and who was really grown fond of England-
-not at all to the prejudice of doing us what hurt he could in
his public character, is recalled, to succeed Don Carvalho and
Lancaster, as secretary of state for foreign affairs. If he
regrets England too much, may not he think of taking Ireland in
his way back?

I shall fill up the remainder of an empty letter with
transcribing some sentences which have diverted me in a very
foolish vulgar book of travels, lately published by one
Drummond,(475) consul at Aleppo. Speaking of Florence, he
says, that the very evening of his arrival, he was carried by
Lord Eglinton and some other English, whom he names, to your
house: "Mr. Mann" (these are his words) "is extremely Polite,
and I do him barely justice in saying he is a fine gentleman,
though indeed this is as much as can be said of any person
whatever; yet there are various ways of distinguishing the
qualities that compose this amiable character, and of these,
he, in my opinion, possesses the most agreeable. He lives in a
fine palace; all the apartments on the ground-floor, which is
elegantly furnished, were lighted up; and the garden was a
little epitome of Vauxhall. These conversationi resemble our
card-assemblies;" (this is called writing travels, to observe
that an assembly is like an assembly!) "and this was remarkably
brilliant, for all the married ladies of fashion in Florence
were present; yet were they as much inferior to the fair part
of a British assembly, especially those of York and Edinburgh,
as a crew of female Laplanders are to the fairest dames of
Florence. Excuse this sally, which is more warm than just; for
even this assembly was not without a few lovely creatures.
Some played at cards, some passed the time in conversation;
others walked from place to place; and many retired with their
gallants into gloomy corners, where they entertained each
other, but in what manner I will not pretend to say; though, if
I may depend upon my information, which, by-the-by, was very
good, their taste and mine would not at all agree. In a word,
these countries teem with more singularities than I choose to
mention." You will conclude I had very little to say when I
had recourse to the observations of such a simpleton; but I
thought they would divert you for a moment, as they did me.
One don't dislike to know what even an Aleppo factor would
write of one-and I can't absolutely dislike him, as he was not
insensible to your agreeableness. I don't believe Orpheus
would think even a bear ungenteel when it danced to his music.
Adieu!

(475) Alexander Drummond, Esq. The work was entitled "Travels
through different Cities of Germany, Italy, Greece, and several
parts of Asia, as far as the banks of the Euphrates."-.

205 Letter 98
To John Chute, Esq.
Arlington Street, April 30, 1754.

My God! Farinelli, what has this nation done to the King of
Spain, that the moment we have any thing dear and precious he
should tear it from us!-This is not the beginning of my letter
to you, nor does it allude to Mr. Bentley; much less is it
relative to the captivity of the ten tribes; nor does the King
signify Benhadad or Tiglath-pileser; nor Spain, Assyria, as Dr.
Pococke or Warburton, misled by dissimilitude of names, or by
the Septuagint, may, for very good reasons, imagine--but it is
literally the commencement of my lady Rich's(476) epistle to
Farinelli on the recall of General Wall, as she relates it
herself. It serves extremely well for my own lamentation, when
I sit down by the waters of Strawberry, and think of ye, O
Chute and Bentley!

I have seen "Creusa,"(477) and more than agree with you: it is
the only new tragedy that I ever saw and really liked. The
plot is most interesting, and, though so complicated quite
clear and natural. The circumstance of so much distress being
brought on by characters, every one good, yet acting
consistently with their principles towards the misfortunes of
the drama, is quite new and pleasing. Nothing offended me but
that lisping Miss Haughton, whose every speech is
inarticulately oracular.

I was last night at a little ball at Lady Anne Furnese's for
the new Lords, Dartmouth and North, but nothing passed worth
relating; indeed, the only event since you left London was the
tragicomedy that was acted last Saturday at the Opera. One of
the dramatic guards fell flat on his face and motionless in an
apoplectic fit. The Princess(478) and her children were there.
Miss Chudleigh, who apparemment had never seen a man fall on
his face before, went into the most theatric fit of kicking and
shrieking that ever was seen. Several other women, who were
preparing their fits, were so distanced that she had the whole
house to herself; and, indeed such a confusion for half an hour
I never saw! The next day, at my Lady Townshend's, old Charles
Stanhope asked what these fits were called? Charles Townshend
replied, "The true convulsive fits, to be had only of the
maker." Adieu! my dear Sir. To-day looks summerish, but we
have no rain yet.

(476) One of the daughters and coheiresses of the Lord Mohun,
killed in a duel with Duke Hamilton.

(477) William Whitehead's tragedy of "Creusa" was brought out
at Drury Lane theatre with considerable applause. Mrs.
Pritchard performed the character of Creusa with great effect;
and as Garrick and Mossop also took parts in it, the
performance was so perfect, that it was hardly possible for it
not to succeed in the representation; yet it has seldom been
revived.-E.

(478) The Princess of Wales, mother to George the Third.-E.

]206 Letter 99
To John Chute, Esq.
Arlington Street, May 14, 1754.

My dear sir,
I wrote to you the last day of last month: I only mention it to
show you that I am- punctual to your desire. It is my only
reason for writing to-day, for I have nothing new to tell you.
The town is empty, dusty, and disagreeable; the country is cold
and comfortless; consequently I daily run from one to t'other',
as if both were so charming that I did not know which to
prefer. I am at present employed in no very lively manner, in
reading a treatise on commerce, which Count Perron has lent me,
of his own writing: this obliges me to go through with it,
though the subject and the style of the French would not engage
me much. It does not want sense.

T'other night a description was given me of the most
extraordinary declaration of love that ever was made. Have you
seen young Poniatowski?(479) he is very handsome. You have
seen the figure of the Duchess of Gordon,(480) who looks like a
raw-boned Scotch metaphysician that has got a red face by
drinking water. One day at the drawing-room, having never
spoken to him, she sent one of the foreign ministers to invite
Poniatowski to dinner with her for the next day. He bowed and
went. The moment the door opened, her two little sons, attired
like Cupids, with bows and arrows, shot at him; and one of them
literally hit his hair, and was very near putting his eye out,
and hindering his casting it to the couch

"Where she another sea-born Venus lay."

The only company besides this Highland goddess were two
Scotchmen, who could not speak a word of any language but their
own Erse; and to complete his astonishment at this allegorical
entertainment, with the dessert there entered a little horse,
and galloped round the table; a hieroglyphic I cannot solve.
Poniatowski accounts for this profusion of kindness by his
great-grandmother being a Gordon: but I believe it is to be
accounted for by * * * * Adieu! my dear Sir.

(479) Stanislaus, the ill-fated King of Poland.

(480) Lady Catherine Gordon, daughter of the Earl of Aberdeen,
widow of Cosmo Duke of Gordon, who died in 1752. She married,
secondly, Colonel Saates Morris.-E.

207 Letter 100
To Richard Bentley, Esq.
Arlington Street, May 18, 1754.

My dear Sir,
Unless you will be exact in dating your letters, you will
occasion me much confusion. Since the undated one which I
mentioned in my last, I have received another as unregistered,
with the fragment of the rock, telling me of one which had set
sail on the 18th, I suppose of last month, and been driven
back: this I conclude was the former undated. Yesterday, I
received a longer, tipped with May 8th. You must submit to
this lecture, and I hope will amend by it. I cannot promise
that I shall correct myself much in the intention I had of
writing to you seldomer and shorter at this time of year. If
you could be persuaded how insignificant I think all I do, how
little important it is even to myself, you would not wonder
that I have not much empressement to give the detail of it to
any body else. Little excursions to Strawberry, little parties
to dine there, and many jaunts to hurry Bromwich, and the
carver, and Clermont, are my material occupations. Think of
sending these 'cross the sea!-The times produce nothing. there
is neither party, nor controversy, nor gallantry, nor fashion,
nor literature-the whole proceeds like farmers regulating
themselves, their business, their views, their diversions, by
the almanac. Mr. Pelham's death has scarce produced a change;
the changes in Ireland, scarce a murmur. Even in France the
squabbles of the parliament and clergy are under the same
opiate influence.--I don't believe that Mademoiselle Murphy
(who is delivered of a prince, and is lodged openly at
Versailles) and Madame Pompadour will mix the least grain of
ratsbane in one another's tea. I, who love to ride in the
whirlwind, cannot record the yawns of such an age!