Books: The Letters of Horace Walpole, Volume 2

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I have received the cargo of letters and give you many thanks;
but have not seen Mr. Brand; having been in the country while
he was in town.

Your brother has received and sent you a dozen double prints
of my eagle, which I have had engraved. I could not expect
that any drawing could give you a full idea of the noble
spirit of the head, or of the masterly tumble of the feathers:
but I think Upon the whole the plates are not ill done. Let
me beg Dr. Cocchi to accept one of each plate; the rest, my
dear Sir, you will give away as you please.

Mr. Chute is such an idle wretch, that you will not wonder I
am his secretary for a commission. At the Vine is the most
heavenly chapel(581) in the world; it only wants a few
pictures to give it a true Catholic air-we are so conscious of
the goodness of our Protestantism, that we do not care how
things look. If you can pick us up a tolerable Last Supper,
or can have one copied tolerably and very cheap, we will say
many a mass for the repose of your headaches. The dimensions
are, three feet eleven inches and three quarters by two feet
eight inches and a half high. Take notice of two essential
ingredients; it must be cheap, and the colouring must b very
light, for it will hang directly under the window.

I beg YOU Will nurse yourself up to great strength; consider w
what German generals and English commodores you are again
going to have to govern! On my side, not a Pretender

shall land, nor rebellion be committed, but you shall have
timely notice. Adieu!

(580) A Florentine, but minister of France to the Great Duke.

(581) At Mr. Chute's seat of the Vine, in Hampshire, is a
chapel built by Lord Sandys of the Vine, lord chamberlain to
Henry VIII. In the painted glass windows, which were taken at
Boulogne in that reign, are portraits of Francis 1. his Queen,
and sister.

260 Letter 139
To Richard Bentley, Esq.
Strawberry Hill, July 17, 1755.

To be sure, war is a dreadful calamity, etc.! But then it is a
very comfortable commodity for writing letters and writing
history; and as one did not contribute to make it, why there
is no harm in being a little amused with looking on; and if
one can but keep the Pretender on t'other side Derby, and keep
Arlington Street and Strawberry Hill from being carried to
Paris, I know nobody that would do more to promote peace, or
that will bear the want of it, with a better grace than
myself. If I don't send you an actual declaration of war in
this letter, at least you perceive I am the harbinger of it.
An account arrived yesterday morning that Boscawen had missed
the French fleet, who are got into Cape Breton; but two of his
captains(582) attacked three of their squadron and have taken
two, with scarce any loss. This is the third time one of the
French captains has been taken by Boscawen.

Mr. Conway is arrived from Ireland, where the triumphant party
are what parties in that situation generally are, unreasonable
and presumptuous. They will come into no terms without a
stipulation that the Primate(583) shall not be in the Regency.
This is a bitter pill to digest, but must not it be swallowed?
Have we heads to manage a French war and an Irish civil war
too?

There are little domestic news. If you insist upon some, why,
I believe I could persuade somebody or other to hang
themselves; but that is scarce an article uncommon enough to
send cross the sea. For example, the rich * * * * whose
brother died of the smallpox a year ago, and left him four
hundred thousand Pounds, had a fit of the gout last week, and
shot himself. I only begin to be afraid that it should grow
as necessary to shoot one's self here, as it is to go into the
army in France. Sir Robert Browne has lost his last daughter,
to whom he could have given eight thousand pounds a-year.
When I tell these riches and n)adnesses to Mr. Muntz, he
stares so, that I sometimes fear he thinks I mean to impose on
him. It is cruel to a person who collects the follies of the
age for the information of posterity to have one's veracity
doubted; it is the truth of them that makes them worth notice.
Charles Townshend marries the great dowager Dalkeith;(583 his
parts and presumption are prodigious. He wanted nothing but
independence to let him loose: I propose great entertainment
from him; and now, perhaps, the times will admit it. There
may be such things again as parties--odd evolutions happen.
The ballad I am going to transcribe for you is a very good
comment on so commonplace a text. My Lord Bath, who was
brought hither by my Lady Hervey's and Billy Bristow's reports
of the charms of the place, has made the following stanzas, to
the old tune which you remember of Rowe's ballad on
Doddington's Mrs. Strawbridge:--

"Some talk of Gunnersbury,
For Sion some declare;
And some say that with Chiswick-house
No villa can compare;
But all the beaux of Middlesex,
Who know the country well,
Say, that Strawberry Hill, that Strawberry
Doth bear away the bell.

Though Surry boasts its Oatlands,
And Claremont kept so jim;
And though they talk of Southcote's,
'Tis but a dainty whim;
For ask the gallant Bristow,
Who does in taste excel,
If Strawberry Hill, if Strawberry
Don't bear away the bell."

Can there be an odder revolution of things, than that the
printer of the Craftsman(585) should live in a house of mine,
and that the author of the Craftsman should write a panegyric
on a house of mine?

I dined yesterday at Wanstead many years have passed since I
saw it. The disposition of the house and the prospect are
better than I expected, and very fine: the garden, which they
tell you cost as much as the house, that is, 100,000 pounds
(don't tell Mr. Muntz) is wretched; the furniture fine, but
totally without taste: such continences and incontinences of
Scipio and Alexander by I don't know whom! such flame-coloured
gods and goddesses, by Kent! such family-pieces, by--I believe
the late Earl himself, for they are as ugly as the children he
really begot! The whole great apartment is of oak, finally
carved, unpainted and has a charming effect(586) The present
Earl is the most generous creature in the world: in the first
chamber I entered he offered me four marble tables that lay in
cases about the room: I compounded, after forty refusals of
every thing I commended, to bring away only a haunch of
venison: I believe he has not had so cheap a visit a good
while. I commend myself, as I ought: for, to be sure, there
were twenty ebony chairs, and a couch, and a table, and a
glass, that would have tried the virtue of a philosopher of
double my size! After dinner we dragged a gold-fish pond(587)
for my lady Fitzroy and Lord S@ I could not help telling my
Lord Tilney, that they would certainly burn the poor fish for
the gold, like the old lace. There arrived a Marquis St.
Simon, from Paris, who understands English, and who has seen
your book of designs for Gray's Odes: he was much pleased at
meeting me, to whom the individual cat(588) belonged, and you
may judge whether I was pleased with him. Adieu! my dear Sir.

(582) The two captains were the Honourable Captain Richard
Howe of the Dunkirk, and Captain Andrews of the Defiance, who,
on the 10th of June, off Cape Race, the southernmost part of
Newfoundland, fell in with three men-of war, part of the
French fleet, Commanded by M. Bois de la Motte; and, after a
very severe engagement of five Hours, succeeded in capturing
the Alcide of sixty-four guns, and the Lys of sixty-four.- E.

(583) Dr. Stone.

(584) Eldest daughter and coheiress of the great Duke of
Argyle, and widow of the Earl of Dalkeith.-E.

(585) Franklin, who occupied the cottage in the enclosure
which Mr. Walpole afterwards called the Flower-garden at
Strawberry Hill. When he bought the ground on which this
tenement stood, he allowed Franklin to continue to occupy it
during his life.

(586) Arthur Young, in his "Six Weeks' Tour," gives the
following description of Wanstead: "It is one of the noblest
houses in England. The magnificence of having four state bed-
chambers, with complete apartments to them, and the ball-room,
are superior to any thing of the kind in Houghton, Holkham,
Blenheim and Wilton: but each of these houses is superior to
this in other particulars; and, to form a complete, palace,
something must be taken from all."-E.

(587) Evelyn, who visited Wanstead, March 16, 1682-3, says, "I
went to see Sir Josiah Child's prodigious cost in planting
walnut-trees about his seat, and making fish-ponds many miles
in circuit, in Epping Forest, in a barren spot, as oftentimes
these suddenly moneyed men for the most part. seat themselves.
He, from a merchant's apprentice, and management of the East
India Company's stock, being arrived to an estate ('tis said)
200,000 pounds, and lately married his daughter to the eldest
son of the Duke of Beaufort, late Marquis of Worcester, with
50,000 pounds portional present, and various expectations."

(588) Walpole's favourite cat Selima, on the death of which,
by falling into a china tub, with gold fishes in it, Gray
wrote an Ode. After the death of the poet, Walpole placed the
china vase on a pedestal at Strawberry Hill, with a few lines
of' the Ode written for its inscription.-E.

263 Letter 140
To George Montagu, Esq.
Strawberry Hill, July 17, 1755.

Having done with building and planting, I have taken to
farming; the first fruits of my proficience in that science I
offer to you, and have taken the liberty to send you a couple
of cheeses. If you will give yourself the trouble to inquire
at Brackley for the coach, which set out this morning you will
receive a box and a roll of paper. The latter does not
contain a cheese, only a receipt for making them. We have
taken so little of the French fleet, that I fear none of it
will come to my share, or I would have sent you part of the
spoils. I have nothing more to send you, but a new ballad,
which my Lord Bath has made on this place; you remember the
old burden of it, and the last lines allude to Billy Bristow's
having fallen in love with it.

I am a little pleased to send you this, to show you, that in
summer we are a little pretty, though you will never look at
us but in our ugliness. My best compliments to Miss Montagu,
and my service to whatever baronet breakfasts with you, on
negus. Have you heard that poor Lady Browne is so unfortunate
as to have lost her last daughter; and that Mrs. Barnett is so
lucky as to have lost her mother-in-law, and is Baroness Dacre
of the South? I met the great C`u t'other day, and he asked me
if I ever heard from you; that he never did: I told him that I
did not neither; did not I say true?

263 Letter 141
To George Montagu, Esq.
Strawberry Hill, July 26, 1755.

who would not turn farmer, when their very first essay turns
to so good account? Seriously, I am quite pleased with the
success of mystery, and infinitely obliged to you for the kind
things you say about my picture. You must thank Mrs.
Whetenhall, too, for her prepossession about my cheeses: I
fear a real manufacturer of milk at Strawberry Hill would not
have answered quite so well as our old commodities of paint
and copper-plates.

I am happy for the recovery of Miss Montagu, and the
tranquillity you must feel after so terrible a season of
apprehension. Make my compliments to her, and if you can be
honest on so tender a topic, tell her, that she will always be
in danger, while you shut her up in Northamptonshire, and that
with her delicate constitution she ought to live nearer
friends and help; and I know of no spot so healthy or
convenient for both, as the county of Twicks.

Charles Townshend is to be married next month: as the lady had
a very bad husband before, she has chosen prudently, and has
settled herself in a family of the best sort of people in the
world, who will think of nothing but making her happy. I
don't know whether the bridegroom won't be afraid of getting
her any more children, lest it should prejudice those she has
already! they are a wonderful set of people for good-natured
considerations!

You know, to be sure, that Mr. Humberston(589) is dead, and
your neighbouring Brackley likely to return under the dominion
of its old masters. Lady Dysart(590) is dead too.

Mr. Chute is at the Vine. Your poor Cliquetis is still a
banished man. I have a scheme for bringing him back, but can
get Mrs. Tisiphone into no kind of terms, and without tying
her up from running him into new debts, it is in vain to
recover him.

I believe the declaration of war has been stopped at the
Custom-house, for one hears nothing of it. You see I am very
paragraphical, and in reality have nothing to say; so good
night! Yours ever.

(589)Member for Brackley.-E.

(590) Daughter of the Earl of Granville.

264 Letter 142
To Richard Bentley, Esq.
Strawberry Hill, August 4, 1755, between 11 and 12 at night.

I came from London to-day, and am just come from supping at
Mrs. Clive's, to write to you by the fireside. We have been
exceedingly troubled for some time with St. Swithin's
diabetes, and have not a dry thread in any walk about us. I
am not apt to complain of this malady, nor do I: it keeps us
green at present, and will make our shades very thick, against
we are fourscore, and fit to enjoy them. I brought with me
your two letters of July 30 and August 1st; a sight I have not
seen a long time! But, my dear Sir, you have been hurt at my
late letters. Do let me say thus much in excuse for myself.
You know how much I value, and what real and great
satisfaction I have in your drawings. Instead of pleasing me
with so little trouble to yourself, do you think it was no
mortification to receive every thing but your drawings? to
find you full of projects, and, I will not say, with some
imprudences? But I have done on this subject--my friendship
will always be the same for you; it will only act with more or
less cheerfulness, as you use your common sense, or your
disposition to chimerical schemes and carelessness. To give
you all the present satisfaction in my power, I will tell you
* * * * *

I think your good-nature means to reproach me with having
dropped any hint of finding amusement in contemplating a war.
When one would not do any thing to promote it, when one would
do any thing to put a period to it, when one is too
insignificant to contribute to either, I must own I see no
blame in thinking an active age more agreeable to live in,
than a soporific one. But, O my dear Sir, I must adopt your
patriotism-Is not it laudable to be revived with the revival
of British glory? Can I be an indifferent spectator of the
triumphs of my country'? Can I help feeling a tattoo at my
heart, when the Duke of Newcastle makes as great a figure in
history as Burleigh or Godolphin-nay, as Queen Bess herself!
She gained no battles in person; she was only the actuating
genius. You seem to have heard of a proclamation of war, of
which we have not heard; and not to have come to the knowledge
of taking of Beau S`ejour(591) by Colonel Monckton. In short,
the French and we seem to have crossed over and figured in, in
politics.(592) Mirepoix complained grievously that the Duke
of Newcastle had overreached him-but he is to be forgiven in
so good a cause! It is the first person he ever deceived! I
am preparing a new folio for heads of the heroes that are to
bloom in mezzo-tinto from this war. At present my chief study
is West Indian history. You would not think me very
ill-natured if you knew all I feel at the cruelty and villany
of European settlers: but this very morning I found that part
of the purchase of Maryland from the savage proprietors (for
we do not massacre, we are such good Christians as only to
cheat) was a quantity of vermilion and a parcel of Jews-harps!
Indeed, if I pleased, I might have another study; it is my
fault if I am not a commentator and a corrector of the press.
The Marquis de St. Simon, whom I mentioned to you, at a very
first visit proposed to me to look over a translation he had
made of The Tale of a Tub: the proposal was soon followed by a
folio, and a letter of three sides, to press me seriously to
revise it. You shall judge of my scholar's competence. He
translates L'Estrange, Dryden, and others, l'`etrange Dryden,
etc.(593) Then in the description of the tailor as an idol,
and his goose as the symbol; he says in a note, that the goose
means the dove, and is a concealed satire on the Holy Ghost.
It put me in mind of the Dane, who, talking of orders to a
Frenchman, said, "Notre St. Esprit, est un `el`ephant."

Don't think, because I prefer your drawings to every thing in
the world, that I am such a churl as to refuse Mrs. Bentley's
partridges: I shall thank her very much for them. You must
excuse me If I am vain enough to be so convinced of my own
taste, that all the neglect that has been thrown upon your
designs cannot make me think I have overvalued them. I must
think that the states of Jersey who execute your town-house,-
have much more judgment than all our connoisseurs. When I
every day see Greek, and Roman, and Italian, and Chinese, and
Gothic architecture embroidered and inlaid upon one another,
or called by each other's names, I can't help thinking that
the grace and simplicity and truth of your taste, in whichever
you undertake is real taste. I go farther: I wish you would
know in what you excel, and not be bunting after twenty things
unworthy your genius. If flattery is my turn, believe this to
be so.

Mr. Muntz is at the Vine, and has been some time. I want to
know more of this history of the German: I do assure you, that
I like both his painting and behaviour; but if any history of
any kind is to accompany him, I shall be most willing to part
with him. However I may divert myself as a spectator of
broils, believe me I am thoroughly sick of having any thing to
do in any. Those in a neighbouring island are likely to
subside-and, contrary to custom, the priest(594) himself is to
be the sacrifice.

I have contracted a sort of intimacy with Garrick, who is my
neighbour. He affects to study my taste: I lay it all upon
you--he admires you. He is building a grateful temple to
Shakspeare: I offered him this motto: "Quod spiro et placeo,
si placeo tuum est!" Don't be surprised if you should hear of
me as a gentleman come upon the stage next winter for my
diversion. The truth is, I make the most of this acquaintance
to protect my poor neighbour at Clivden--You understand the
conundrum, Clive's den.

Adieu, my dear Sir! Need I repeat assurances? If I need,
believe that nothing that can tend to your recovery has been
or shall be neglected by me. You may trust me to the utmost
of my power: beyond that, what can I do? Once more, adieu!

(591) In June, 1755, the French fort of Beau Sejour, in the
Bay of Fundy, surrendered to Colonel Monckton, and two small
forts, Gaspereau and Venango, also capitulated. These were
the first conquests of the British arms in America during that
war. He gave the name of Fort Cumberland to Beau S`ejour.-E.

(592) This alludes to England and France not being at open
war, though constantly committing aggressions against each
other. The capture of these forts formed the first article Of
complaint against England, in the French declaration of war,
in June, 1756.-E.

(593) The Marquis de St. Simon did publish, in 1771, a
translation of Pope's Essay on Man.-E.

(594) The Primate of ireland.

266 Letter 143
To Richard Bentley, Esq.
Strawberry Hill, August 15, 1755.

My dear sir,
Though I wrote to you so lately, and have certainly nothing
new to tell you, I can't help scribbling a line to YOU
to-night, as I am going to Mr. Rigby's for a week or ten days,
and must thank you first for the three pictures. One of them
charms me, the Mount Orgueil, which is absolutely fine; the
sea, and shadow upon it, are masterly. The other two I don't,
at least won't, take for finished. If you please, Elizabeth
Castle shall be Mr. Muntz's performance: indeed I see nothing
of You in it. I do reconnoitre you in the Hercules and
Nessus; but in both your colours are dirty, carelessly dirty:
in your distant hills you are improved, and not hard. The
figures are too large--I don't mean in the Elizabeth Castle,
for there they are neat; but the centaur, though he dies as
well as Garrick can, is outrageous. Hercules and Deianira are
by no means so: he is sentimental, and she most improperly
sorrowful. However, I am pleased enough to beg you would
continue. As soon as Mr. Muntz returns from the Vine, you
shall have a supply of colours. In the mean time why give up
the good old trade of drawing? Have you no Indian ink, no
soot-water, no snuff, no Coat of onion, no juice of any thing?
If you love me, draw: you would if you knew the real pleasure
you can give me. I have been studying all your drawings; and
next to architecture and trees, I determine that you succeed
in nothing better than animals. Now (as the newspapers say)
the late ingenious Mr. Seymour is dead, I would recommend
horses and greyhounds to you. I should think you capable of a
landscape or two with delicious bits of architecture. I have
known you execute the light of a torch or lanthorn so well,
that if it was called Schalken, a housekeeper at Hampton-court
or Windsor, or a Catherine at Strawberry Hill, would show it,
and say it cost ten thousand pounds. Nay, if I could believe
that you would ever execute any more designs I proposed to
you, I would give you a hint for a picture that struck me
t'other day in P`er`efixe's Life of Henry IV.(595) He says,
the king was often seen lying upon a common straw-bed among
the soldiers, with a piece of brown bread in one hand, and a
bit of charcoal in t'other, to draw an encampment, or town
that he was besieging. If this is not a character and a
picture, I don't know what is.

I dined to-day at Garrick's: there were the Duke of Grafton,
Lord and Lady Rochford, Lady Holderness, the crooked Mostyn,
and Dabreu the Spanish minister; two regents, of which one is
lord chamberlain, the other groom of the stole; and the wife
of a secretary of state. This is the being sur un assez bon
ton for a player! Don't you want to ask me how I like him? Do
want, and I will tell you. I like her exceedingly; her
behaviour is all sense, and all sweetness too. I don't know
how, he does not improve so fast upon me: there is a great
deal of parts, and vivacity, and variety, but there is a great
deal too of mimicry and burlesque. I am very ungrateful, for
he flatters me abundantly; but unluckily I know it. I was
accustomed to it enough when my father was first minister: on
his fall I lost it all at once: and since that, I have lived
with Mr. Chute, who is all vehemence; with Mr. Fox, who is all
disputation; with Sir Charles Williams, who has no time from
flattering himself; with Gray, who does not hate to find fault
with me; with Mr. Conway, who is all sincerity; and with you
and Mr. Rigby, who have always laughed at me in a good-natured
way. I don't know how, but I think I like all this as well--I
beg his pardon, Mr. Raftor does flatter me; but I should be a
cormorant for praise, if I could swallow it whole as he gives
it me.

Sir William Yonge, who has been extinct so long is at last
dead and the war, which began with such a flirt of vivacity,
is I think gone to sleep. General Braddock has not yet sent
over to claim the surname of Americanus. But why should I
take pains to show You in how many ways I know nothing?--Why;
I can tell it you in one word--why, Mr. Cambridge knows
nothing!--I wish you good-night! Yours ever.

(595) Hardouin de P`er`efixe's Histoire du Roi Henri le Grand
appeared in 1661. He is stated, by the editor Of the Biog.
Univ. to be the best historian of that monarch, and the work
has been translated in many languages. He was appointed
preceptor to Louis XIV. in 1644, and Archbishop of Paris in
1622. He died in 1670.-E.

268 Letter 144
To Sir Horace Mann.
Mistley, August 21, 1755. '

I shall laugh at you for taking so seriously what I said to
you about my Lady Orford. Do you think, my dear Sir, that at
this time I can want to learn your zeal for us? or can you
imagine that I did not approve for your own sake your keeping
fair terms with the Countess? If I do not much forget, I even
recommended it to you--but let us talk no more of her; she has
engrossed more paragraphs in our letters than she deserves.

I promised you a brisk war: we have done our part, but can I
help it, if the French will not declare it?-if they are
backward, and cautious, and timorous; if they are afraid of
provoking too far SO great a power as England, who threatens
the liberties of Europe? I laugh, but how not to laugh at
such a world as this! Do you remember the language of the last
war? What were our apprehensions? Nay, at the conclusion of
the peace, nothing was laid down for a maxim but the
impossibility of our engaging in another war; that our
national debt was at its ne plus ultra; and that on the very
next discussion France must swallow us up! Now we are all
insolent, alert, and triumphant: nay the French talk of
nothing but guarding against our piracies, and travel Europe
to give the alarm against such an overbearing power as we are.
On their coasts they are alarmed--I mean the common people; I
scarce believe they who know any thing, are in real dread of
invasion from us! Whatever be the reason, they don't declare
war: some think they wait for the arrival of their Martinico
fleet. You will ask why we should not attack that too? They
tell one, that if we began hostilities in Europe, Spain would
join the French. Some believe that the latter are not ready:
certain it is, Mirepoix gave them no notice nor suspicion of
our flippancy; and he is rather under a cloud--indeed this has
much undeceived me in one point: I took him for the ostensible
mister; but little thought that they had not some secret agent
of better head, some priest, some Scotch or Irish Papist-or
perhaps some English Protestant, to give them better
intelligence. But don't you begin to be impatient for the
events of all our West Indian expeditions? The Duke,(596) who
is now the soul of the Regency, and who on all hands is
allowed to make a great figure there, is much dissatisfied at
the slowness of General Braddock, who does not march as if he
was at all impatient to be scalped. It is said for him, that
he has had bad guides, that the roads are exceedingly
difficult, and that it was necessary to drag as much artillery
as he does. This is not the first time, as witness in
Hawley,(597) that the Duke has found that brutality did not
necessarily consummate a general. I love to give you an idea
of our characters as they rise upon the stage of history.
Braddock is a very Iroquois in disposition. He had a sister,
who having gamed away all her little fortune at Bath, hanged
herself(598) with a truly English deliberation, leaving only a
note upon the table with those lines "To die is landing on
some silent shore," etc. When Braddock was told of it, he
only said, "Poor Fanny! I always thought she would play till
she would be forced to tuck herself up!"' But a more
ridiculous story of him, and which is recorded in heroics by
Fielding in his Covent-Garden tragedy, was an amorous
discussion he had formerly with a Mrs. Upton, who had kept
him. He had gone the greatest lengths with her pin-money, and
was still craving. One day that he was very pressing, she
pulled out her purse and showed him that she had but twelve or
fourteen shillings left; he twitched it from her, "Let me see
that." Tied up at the other end he found five guineas; he
took them, tossed the empty purse in her face, saying, "Did
you mean to cheat me?" and never went near her more:--now you
are acquainted with General Braddock.