Books: The Letters of Horace Walpole, Volume 2

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(554) Count de Haslang, many years minister from Bavaria to
the British court.-E.

242 Letter 126
To Sir Horace Mann.
Arlington Street, March 10, 1755.

having already wished you joy of your chivalry, I would not
send you a formal congratulation on the actual despatch of
your patent: I had nothing new to tell you: forms between you
and me would be new indeed.

You have heard of the nomination of my friend and relation,
Lord Hertford,(555) to the embassy of Paris: you will by this
time have learned or perceived, that he is not likely to go
thither. They have sent demands too haughty to be admitted,
and we are preparing a fleet to tell them we think so. In
short, the prospect is very warlike. The ministry are so
desirous of avoiding it, that they make no preparations on
land--will that prevent it?--Their partisans d-n the
plantations, and ask if we are to involve ourselves in a war
for them? Will that question weigh with planters and West
Indians? I do not love to put our trust in a fleet only:
however, we do not touch upon the Pretender; the late
rebellion suppressed is a comfortable ingredient, at least, in
a new war. You know I call this the age of abortions: who
knows but the egg of this war may be addled?

Elections, very warm in their progress, very insignificant in
their consequence, very tedious in their attendance, employ
the Parliament solely. The King wants to go abroad, and
consequently to have the Houses prorogued: the Oxfordshire
election says no to him: the war says no to him: the town say
we shall sit till June. Balls, masquerades, and diversions
don't trouble their heads about the Parliament or the war: the
righteous, who hate pleasures and love prophecies, (the most
unpleasant things in the world, except their completion,) are
finding out parallels between London and Nineveh, and other
goodly cities of old, who went to operas and ridottos when the
French were at their gates--yet, if Arlington Street were ten
times more like to the most fashionable street in Tyre or
Sidon, it should not alarm me: I took all my fears out in the
rebellion: I was frightened enough then; I will never have
another panic. I would not indeed be so pedantic as to sit in
St. James's market in an armed chair to receive the French,
because the Roman consuls received the Gauls in the forum.
They shall be in Southwark before I pack up a single
miniature.

The Duke of Dorset goes no more to Ireland: Lord Hartington is
to be sent thither with the olive branch. Lord Rochford is
groom of the stole; Lord Poulet has resigned the bedchamber on
that preference, and my nephew and Lord Essex are to be lords
of the bedchamber. It is supposed that the Duke of Rutland
will be master of the horse, and the Dorset again lord
steward. But all this will come to you as very antique news,
if a whisper that your brother has heard to-day be true, of
your having taken a trip to Rome. If you are there when you
receive this, pray make my Lady Pomfret's(556) compliments to
the statues in the Capitol, and inform them that she has
purchased her late lord's collection of statues, and presented
them to the University of Oxford. The present Earl, her son,
is grown a speaker in the House of Lords, and makes
comparisons between Julius Caesar and the watchmen of Bristol,
in the same style as he compared himself to Cerberus, who,
when he had one head cut off three others sprang up in its
room. I shall go to-morrow to Dr. Mead's sale, and ruin
myself in bronzes and vases--but I will not give them to the
University of Oxford. Adieu! my dear Sir Knight.

(555) Francis Seymour Conway, Earl of Hertford; his mother was
sister to Lady Walpole.

(556) Henrietta Louisa, Countess-dowager of pomfret, having
quarrelled with her eldest son, who was ruined and forced to
sell the furniture of his seat at Easton Neston, bought his
statues, which had been part of the Arundelian collection, and
had been purchased by his grandfather.

243 Letter 127
To Richard Bentley, Esq.
Arlington Street, March 27, 1755.

Your chimney(557) is come, but not to honour: the caryatides
are fine and free, but the rest is heavy: Lord Strafford is
not at all struck with it, and thinks it old-fashioned: it
certainly tastes of Inigo Jones.

Your myrtles I have seen in their pots, and they are
magnificent, but I fear very sickly. In return, I send you a
library. You will receive, some time or other, or the French
for you, the following books: a fourth volume of Dodsley's
Collection Of Poems, the worst tome of the four; three volumes
of Worlds; Fielding's Travels, or rather an account how his
dropsy was treated and teased by an inn-keeper's wife in the
Isle of Wight; the new Letters of Madame de S`evign`e, and
Hume's History of Great Britain; a book which, though more
decried than ever book was, and certainly with faults, I
cannot help liking much. It is called Jacobite, but in my
opinion is only not George-abite: where others abuse the
Stuarts, he laughs at them: I am sure he does not spare their
ministers. Harding,(558) who has the History of England at
the ends of his parliament fingers, says, that the Journals
will contradict most of his facts. If it is so, I am sorry;
for his style, which is the best we have in history, and his
manner imitated from Voltaire, are very pleasing. He has
showed very clearly that we ought to quarrel originally with
Queen Elizabeth's tyranny for most of the errors of Charles
the First. As long as he is Willing to sacrifice some royal
head, I would not much dispute with him which it should be. I
incline every day to lenity, as I see more and more that it is
being very partial to think worse of some men than of others.
If I was a king myself, I dare say I should cease to love a
republic. My Lady Rochford desired me t'other day to give her
a motto for a ruby ring, which had been given by a handsome
woman of quality to a fine man; he gave it to his mistress,
she to Lord * * * * *, he to my lady: who, I think, does not
deny that it has not yet finished its travels. I excused
myself for some time, on the difficulty of reducing such a
history to a poesy--at last I proposed this:

"This was given by woman to man, and by man to woman."

Are you most impatient to hear of a French war, or the event
of the Mitchell election? If the former is uppermost in your
thoughts, I can tell you, you are very unfashionable.' The
Whigs and Tories at Rome, Athens, and Jerusalem never forgot
national points with more zeal, to attend to private faction,
than we have lately. After triumphs repeated in the
committee, Lord Sandwich and Mr. Fox were beaten largely on
the report. It was a most extraordinary day! The Tories, who
could not trust one another for two hours, had their last
consult at the Horn Tavern just before the report, and all but
nine or ten voted in a body (with the Duke of Newcastle)
against agreeing to it: then Sir John Philipps, one of them,
moved for a void election, but was deserted by most of his
clan. We now begin to turn our hands to foreign war. In the
rebellion, the ministry was so unsettled that nobody seemed to
care who was king. Power is now so established that I must do
the engrossers the justice to say, that they seem to be
determined that their own King shall continue so. Our fleet
is great and well manned; we are raising men and money, and
messages have been sent to both houses from St. James's, which
have been answered by very zealous cards. In the mean time,
sturdy mandates are arrived from France; however with a
codicil of moderation, and power to Mirepoix still to treat.
He was told briskly "Your terms must come speedily; the fleets
will sail very quickly; war cannot then be avoided."

I have passed five entire days lately at Dr. Mead's sale,
where, however, I bought very little: as extravagantly as he
paid for every thing, his name has even resold them with
interest. Lord Rockingham gave two hundred and thirty guineas
for the Antinous--the dearest bust that, I believe, was ever
sold; yet the nose and chin were repaired and very ill. Lord
Exeter bought the Homer for one hundred and thirty. I must
tell you a piece of fortune: I supped the first night of the
sale at Bedford-house, and found my Lord Gower dealing at
silver pharaoh to the women. "Oh!" said I laughing, "I laid
out six-and-twenty pounds this morning, I will try if I can
win it back," and threw a shilling upon a card: in five
minutes I won a five-hundred leva, which was twenty-five
pounds eleven shillings. I have formerly won a thousand leva,
and at another five hundred leva. With such luck, shall not I
be able to win you back again?

Last Wednesday I gave a feast in form to the Hertfords. There
was the Duke of Grafton, Lord and Lady Hertford, Mr. Conway,
and Lady Ailesbury; in short, all the Conways in the world, my
Lord Orford, and the Churchills. We dined in the drawing-room
below stairs, amidst the Eagle, Vespasian, etc. You never saw
so Roman a banquet; but withal my virt`u, the bridegroom
seemed the most venerable piece of antiquity. Good night! The
books go to Southampton on Monday. Yours ever.

(557) A design for a chimney-piece, which, at Mr. Walpole's
desire, Mr. Bentley had made for Lord Strafford.

(558) Nicholas Harding, Esq. clerk of the House of Commons.-E.

245 Letter 128
To Richard Bentley, Esq.
Strawberry Hill, April 13, 1755.

If I did not think that you would expect to hear often from me
at so critical a season, I should certainly not write to you
to-night: I am here alone, out of spirits, and not well. In
short, I have depended too much upon my constitution being
like

"Grass, that escapes the scythe by being low"

and having nothing of the oak in the sturdiness of my stature,
I imagined that my mortality would remain pliant as long as I
pleased. But I have taken so little care of myself this
winter, and kept such bad hours, that I have brought a slow
fever upon my nights, and am worn to a skeleton: Bethel has
plump cheeks to mine. However, as it would be unpleasant to
die just at the beginning of a war, I am taking exercise and
air, and much sleep, and intend to see Troy taken. The
prospect thickens; there are certainly above twelve thousand
men at the Isle of Rh`e; some say twenty thousand. An express
was yesterday despatched to Ireland, where it is supposed the
storm will burst; but unless our fleet can disappoint the
embarkation, I don't see what service the notification can do:
we have quite disgarnished that kingdom of troops; and if they
once land, ten thousand men may walk from one end of the
island to the other. It begins to be thought that the King
will not go abroad; that he cannot, every body has long
thought. You will be entertained with a prophecy which my
Lord Chesterfield has found in the 35th chapter of Ezekiel,
which clearly promises us victory over the French, and
expressly relates to this war, as it mentions the two
countries (Nova Scotia and Acadia) which are the point in
dispute. You will have no difficulty in allowing that
mounseer, is typical enough of France: except Cyrus, who is
the only heathen prince mentioned by his right name, and that
before he had any name, I know no power so expressly
described.

"2. Son of man, set thy face against Mount Seir, and prophecy
against it. 3. And say unto it, Thus saith the Lord God: O
Mount Seir, I am against thee; and I will stretch out mine
hand against thee, and I will make thee most desolate. 4. I
will lay thy cities waste, and thou shalt be desolate, etc.
10. Because thou hast said, These two nations and these two
countries shall be mine, and we will possess it."

I am disposed to put great trust in this prediction; for I
know few things more in our favour. You will ask me
naturally, what is to become of you? Are you to be left to all
the chance of war, the uncertainty of packets, the difficulty
of remittance, the increase of prices?--My dear sir, do you
take me for a prime minister, who acquaints the states that
they are in damned danger, when it is about a day too late? Or
shall I order my chancellor to assure you, that this is
numerically the very day on which it is fit to give such
notification, and that a day sooner or a day later would be
improper?-- But not to trifle politically with you, your
redemption is nearer than you think for, though not complete:
the terms a little depend upon yourself. You must send me an
account, strictly and upon your honour, what your debts are:
as there is no possibility for the present but of compounding
them, I put my friendship upon it, that you answer me
sincerely. Should you, upon the hopes of facilitating your
return, not deal ingenuously with me, which I will not
suspect, it would occasion what I hope will never happen.
Some overtures are going to be made to Miss * * * *, to ward
off impediments from her. In short, though I cannot explain
any of the means, your fortune wears another face; and if you
send me immediately, upon your honour, a faithful account of
what I ask, no time will be lost to labour your return, which
I wish so much, and of which I have said so little lately, as
I have had better hopes of it. Don't joke with me upon this
head, as you sometimes do: be explicit, be open in the most
unbounded manner, and deal like a man of sense with a heart
that deserves that you should have no disguises to it. You
know me and my style: when I engage earnestly as I do in this
business, I can't bear not to be treated in my own way.

Sir Charles Williams is made ambassador to Russia; which
concludes all I know. But at such a period two days may
produce much, and I shall not send away my letter till I am in
town on Tuesday. Good night!

Thursday, 17th.

All the officers of the Irish establishment are ordered over
thither immediately: Lord Hartington has offered to go
directly,(559) and sets out with Mr. Conway this day
se'nnight. The journey to Hanover is positive: what if there
should be a crossing-over and figuring-in of kings? I know
who don't think all this very serious; so that, if you have a
mind to be in great spirits, you may quote Lord Hertford. He
went to visit the Duchess of Bedford t'other morning, just
after Lord Anson had been there and told her his opinion. She
asked Lord Hertford what news? He knew none. "Don't you hear
there will be certainly war?" "No, Madam: I saw Mr. Nugent
yesterday, and he did not tell me any thing of it." She
replied, "I have Just seen a man who must know, and who thinks
it unavoidable." "Nay, Madam, perhaps it may: I don't think a
little war would do us any harm." Just as if he had said,
losing a little blood in spring is very wholesome; or that a
little hissing would not do the Mingotti any harm!

I went t'other morning to see the sale of Mr. Pelham's plate,
with George Selwyn--"Lord!" says he, "how many toads have been
eaten off those plates!" Adieu! I flatter myself that this
will be a comfortable letter to you: but I must repeat, that I
expect a very serious answer, and very sober resolutions. If
I treat you like a child, consider you have been so. I know I
am in the right--more delicacy would appear kinder, without
being so kind. As I wish and intend to restore and establish
your happiness, I shall go thoroughly to work. You don't want
an apothecary, but a surgeon--but I shall give you over at
once, if you are either froward or relapse. Yours till then.

(559) As viceroy.

247 Letter 129
To Sir Horace Mann.
Arlington Street, April 22, 1755.

My dear sir,
Your brother and Mr. Chute have just left me in the design of
writing to you; that is, I promised your brother I would, if I
could make out a letter. I have waited these ten days,
expecting to be able to send you a war at least, if not an
invasion. For so long, we have been persuaded that an attempt
would be made on Ireland; we have fetched almost all the
troops from thence; and therefore we have just now ordered all
the officers thither, and the new Lord Lieutenant is going to
see if he has any government left: the old Lord Lieutenant
goes on Sunday to see whether he has any Electorate left.
Your brother says, he hears to-day that the French fleet are
sailed for America: I doubt it; and that the New-Englanders
have been forming a secret expedition, and by this time have
taken Cape Breton again, or something very considerable. I
remember when the former account came of that conquest, I was
stopped in my chariot, and told, "Cape Breton is taken." I
thought the person said "Great Britain is taken." "Oh!" said
I, "I am not at all surprised at that; drive on, coachman."
If you should hear that the Pretender and the Pretend@e have
crossed over and figured in, shall you be much more surprised?

Mr. Chute and I have been motto-hunting(560) for you, but we
have had no sport. The sentence that puns the best upon your
name, and suits the best with your nature, is too old, too
common, and belongs already to the Talbots, Humani nihil
alienum. The motto that punning upon your name suits best
with your public character, is the most heterogeneous to your
private, Homo Homini Lupus--forgive my puns, I hate them; but
it shows how I have been puzzled, and how little I have
succeeded. If I could pity Stosch, it would be for the edict
by which Richcourt incorporates his collection-but when he is
too worthless to be pitied living, can one feel for a hardship
that is not to happen to him till he is dead? How ready 1
should be to quarrel with the Count for such a law, if I was
driving to Louis,(561) at the Palazzo Vecchio!

Adieu! my dear child; I am sensible that this is a very scrap
of a letter; but unless the Kings of England and France will
take more care to supply our correspondence, and not be so
dilatory, is it my fault that I am so concise? Sure, if they
knew how much postage they lost, by not supplying us with
materials for letters, they would not mind flinging away eight
or ten thousand men every fortnight.

(560) It was necessary for him to have a motto to his arms, as
a baronet.

(561) Louis Siriez, a French goldsmith at Florence, who sold
curiosities, and lodged in the old palace at Florence.

248 Letter 130
To Richard Bentley, Esq.
Arlington Street, April 24, 1755.

I don't doubt but you will conclude that this letter, written
so soon after my last, comes to notify a great sea-victory, or
defeat; or that the French are landed in Ireland, and have
taken and fortified Cork; that they have been joined by all
the wild Irish, who have proclaimed the Pretender, and are
charmed with the prospect of being governed by a true
descendant of the Mac-na-O's; or that the King of Prussia,
like an unnatural nephew, has seized his uncle and Schutz in a
post-chaise, and obliged them to hear the rehearsal of a
French opera of his own composing--No such thing! If you will
be guessing, you will guess wrong--all I mean to tell you is,
that thirteen gold fish, caparisoned in coats of mail, as rich
as if Mademoiselle Scuderi had invented their armour, embarked
last Friday on a secret expedition; which, as Mr. Weekes(562)
and the wisest politicians of Twickenham concluded, was
designed against the island of Jersey-but to their consummate
mortification, Captain Chevalier is detained by a law-suit,
and the poor Chinese adventurers are
now frying under deck below bridge. In short, if your
governor is to have any gold fish, you must come and manage
their transport yourself. Did you receive my last letter? If
you did, you will not think it impossible that you should
preside at such an embarkation.

The war is quite gone out of fashion, and seems adjourned to
America: though I am disappointed, I am not surprised. You
know my despair about this eventless age! How pleasant to have
lived in times when one could have been sure every week of
being able to write such a paragraph as this!--"We hear that
the Christians who were on their voyage for the recovery of
the Holy Land, have been massacred in Cyprus by the natives,
who were provoked at a rape and murder committed in a church
by some young noblemen belonging to the Nuncio"--; or--
"Private letters from Rome attribute the death of his Holiness
to poison, which they pretend was given to him in the
sacrament, by the Cardinal of St. Cecilia, whose mistress he
had debauched. The same letters add, that this Cardinal
stands the fairest for succeeding to the Papal tiara; though a
natural son of the late Pope is supported by the whole
interest of Arragon and Naples." Well! since neither the Pope
nor the most Christian King, will play the devil, I must
condescend to tell you flippancies of less dignity. There is
a young Frenchman here, called Monsieur Herault. Lady
Harrington carried him and his governor to sup with her and
Miss Ashe at a tavern t'other night. I have long said that the
French were relapsed into barbarity, and quite ignorant of the
world. You shall judge: in the first place, the young man was
bashful: in the next, the governor, so ignorant as not to have
heard of women of fashion carrying men to a tavern, thought it
incumbent upon him to do the honours for his pupil, who was as
modest and as much in a state of nature as the ladies
themselves, and hazarded some familiarities with Lady
Harrington. The consequence was, that the next morning she
sent a card-to both, to desire they would not come to her ball
that evening, to which she had invited them, and to beg the
favour of them never to come into her house again. Adieu! I
am prodigal of my letters, as I hope not to write you many
more.

(562) A carpenter at Twickenham, employed by Mr. Walpole.

250 Letter 131
To George Montagu, Esq.
Arlington Street, May 4, as they call it, but the weather andthe
almanack of my feelings affirm it is December.

I will answer your questions as well as I can, though I must
do it shortly, for I write in a sort of hurry. Osborn could
not find Lord Cutts,(563) but I have discovered another, in an
auction, for which I shall bid for you. Mr. Muntz has been at
Strawberry these three weeks, tight at work, so your picture
is little advanced, but as soon as he returns it shall be
finished. I have chosen the marbles for your tomb; but you
told me you had agreed on the price, which your steward now
says I was to settle. Mr. Bentley still waits the conclusion
of the session, before he can come amongst us again. Every
thing has passed with great secrecy: one would think the devil
was afraid of being tried for his life, for he has not even
directed Madame Bentley to the Old Bailey. Mr. Mann does not
mend, but how should he in such weather?

We wait with impatience for news from Minorca. there is a
Prince of Nassau Welbourg, who wants to marry Princess
Caroline of Orange; he is well-looking enough, but a little
too tame to cope with such blood. He is established at the
Duke of Richmond's, with a large train, for two months. He
was last night at a great ball at my Lady Townshend's, whose
Audrey will certainly get Lord George Lenox.(564) George
Selwyn, t'other night, seeing Lady Euston with Lady Petersham,
said, "There's my Lady Euston, and my Lady us'd to't." Adieu!

(563) Sir John, created Lord Cutts of Gowran in 1690,
distinguished himself at the siege of Buda: he accompanied
King William to England, was made a lieutenant-general, and
died without issue in 1707. Sir Richard Steele dedicated to
him his "Christian Hero." Lord Cutts married Mr. Montagu's
grandmother; he was her third husband.-E.

(564) Lord George Lenox married Lady Louisa Ker, daughter of
the Marquis of Lothian. Audrey married Captain Orme.-E.

250 Letter 132
To Richard Bentley, Esq.
Arlington Street, May 6, 1755.

My dear sir,
Do you get my letters'! or do I write only for the
entertainment of the clerks of the post-office? I have not
heard from you this month! It will be very unlucky if my last
to you has miscarried, as it required an answer, of importance
to you, and very necessary to my satisfaction.

I told you of Lord Poulet's intended motion. He then
repented, and wrote to my Lady Yarmouth and Mr. Fox to mediate
his pardon. Not contented with his reception, he determined
to renew his intention. Sir Cordell Firebrace(565) took it
up, and intended to move the same address in the Commons, but
was prevented by a sudden adjournment. However, the last day
but one of the session, Lord Poulet read his motion, which was
a speech. My Lord Chesterfield (who of all men living seemed
to have no business to defend the Duke of Newcastle after much
the same sort of ill usage) said the motion was improper, and
moved to adjourn.(566) T'other Earl said, "Then pray, my
Lords, what is to become of my motion?" The House burst out
a-laughing: he divided it, but was single. He then advertised
his papers as lost. Legge, in his punning style, said, "My
Lord Poulet has had a stroke of an apoplexy; he has lost both
his speech and motion." It is now printed; but not having
succeeded in prose, he is turned poet--you may guess how good!