Books: The Letters of Horace Walpole, Volume 2

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I told you we were to have another jubilee masquerade: there
was one by the King's command for Miss Chudleigh, tire maid of
honour, with whom our gracious monarch has a mind to believe
himself in love,--so much in love, that at one of the booths he
gave her a fairing for her watch, which cost him
five-and-thirty guineas,--actually disbursed out of his privy
purse, and not charged on the civil list. Whatever you may
think of it, this is a more magnificent present than the
cabinet which the late King of Poland sent to the fair Countess
Konismark, replete with all kinds of baubles and ornaments, and
ten thousand ducats in one of the drawers. I hope some future
Hollinshed or Stowe will acquaint posterity "that
five-and-thirty guineas were an immense sum in those days!"

You are going to see one of our court-beauties in Italy, my
Lady Rochford:(31) they are setting Out on their embassy to
Turin. She is large, but very handsome, with great delicacy
and address. All the Royals have been in love with her; but
the Duke was so in all the forms, till she was a little too
much pleased with her conquest of his brother-in-law the Prince
of Hesse. You will not find much in the correspondence of her
husband: his person is good, and he will figure well enough as
an ambassador; better as a husband where cicisb`es don't expect
to be molested. The Duke is not likely to be so happy with his
new passion, Mrs. Pitt,(32) who, besides being in love with her
husband, whom you remember (,lady Mary Wortley's George Pitt),
is going to Italy with him, I think you will find her one of
the most glorious beauties you ever saw. You are to have
another pair of our beauties, the Princess Borghese's, Mr
Greville(33) and his wife, who was the pretty Fanny M'Cartney.

Now I am talking scandal to you, and court-scandal, I must tell
you that Lord Conway's sister, Miss Jenny, is dead suddenly
with eating lemonade at the last subscription masquerade.,(34)
It is not quite unlucky for her: she had outlived the Prince's
love and her own face, and nothing remained but her love and her
person, which was exceedingly bad.

The graver part of the world, who have not been given up to
rockets and masquing, are amused with a book of Lord
Bolinbroke's, just published, but written long ago. It is
composed of three letters, the first to Lord Cornbury on the
Spirit of Patriotism; and two others to Mr. lyttelton, (but
with neither of their names,) on the Idea of a patriot King,
and the State of Parties on the late King's accession. Mr.
Lyttelton had sent him word, that he begged nothing might be
inscribed to him that was to reflect on Lord Orford, for that
he was now leagued with all Lord Orford's friends: a message as
abandoned as the book itself: but indeed there is no describing
the impudence with which that set of people unsay what they
have been saying all their lives,-I beg their pardons, I mean
the honesty with which they recant! Pitt told me coolly, that
he had read this book formerly, when he admired Lord Bolinbroke
more than he does now. The book by no means answered my
expectation: the style, which is his fort, is very fine: the
deduction and impossibility of drawing a consequence from what
he is saying, as bad and obscure as in his famous Dissertation
on Parties: Von must know the man, to guess his meaning. Not
to mention the absurdity and impracticability of this kind of
system, there is a long speculative dissertation on the origin
of government, and even that greatly stolen from other writers,
and that all on a sudden dropped, while he hurries into his own
times, and then preaches (he of all men!) on the duty of
preserving decency! The last treatise would not impose upon an
historian of five years old: he tells Mr. Lyttelton, that he
may take it from him, that there was no settled scheme at the
end of the Queen's reign to introduce the Pretender; and he
gives this excellent reason: because, if there had been, he
must have known it; and another reason as ridiculous, that no
traces of such a scheme have since come to light. What, no
traces in all cases of himself, Atterbury, the Duke of Ormond,
Sir William Windham, and others! and is it not known that the
moment the queen was expired, Atterbury proposed to go in his
lawn sleeves and proclaim the Pretender at Charing-cross, but
Bolinbroke's heart failing him, Atterbury swore, "There was the
best cause in Europe lost for want of spirit!" He imputes
Jacobitism singly to Lord Oxford, whom he exceedingly abuses;
and who, so far from being suspected, was thought to have
fallen into disgrace with that faction for refusing to concur
with them. On my father he is much less severe than I
expected; and in general, so obliquely, that hereafter he will
not be perceived to aim at him, though at this time one knows
so much what was at his heart, that it directs one to his
meaning.

But there is a preface to this famous book, which makes much
more noise than the work itself. It seems, Lord Bolinbroke had
originally trusted Pope with the copy, to have half-a-dozen
printed for particular friends. Pope, who loved money
infinitely beyond any friend, got fifteen hundred Copies(35)
printed privately, intending to outlive Bolingbroke and make
great advantage of them; and not only did this, but altered the
copy at his Pleasure, and even made different alterations in
different copies. Where Lord Bolingbroke had strongly flattered
their common friend lyttelton, Pope suppressed the panegyric:
where, in compliment to Pope, he had softened the satire on
Pope's great friend, Lord Oxford, Pope reinstated the abuse. The
first part of this transaction is recorded in the preface; the
two latter facts are reported by Lord Chesterfield and Lyttelton,
the latter of whom went to Bolingbroke to ask how he had
forfeited his good opinion. In short, it is comfortable to us
people of moderate virtue to hear these demigods, and patriots,
and philosophers, inform the world of each other's villanies.(36)
What seems to make Lord Bolinbroke most angry, and I suppose
does, is Pope's having presumed to correct his work. As to his
printing so many copies, it certainly was a compliment, and the
more profit (which however could not be immense) he expected to
make, the greater opinion he must have conceived of the merit of
the work: if one had a mind to defend Pope, should not one
ask,(37) if any body ever blamed Virgil's executors for not
burning the AEneid, as he ordered them? Warburton, I fear, does
design to defend Pope: and my uncle Horace to answer the book;
his style, which is the worst in the world, must be curious, in
opposition to the other. But here comes full as bad a part of
the story as any: Lord Bolinbroke, to buy himself out of the
abuse in the Duke of Marlborough's life, or to buy himself into
the supervisal of it, gave those letters to Mallet, who is
writing this life for a legacy in the old Duchess's will, (and
which, with much humour, she gave, desiring it might not be
written in verse,) and Mallet sold them to the bookseller for a
hundred and fifty pounds. Mallet had many obligations to Pope,
no disobligations to him, and was one of his grossest flatterers;
witness the sonnet on his supposed death, printed in the notes
to the Dunciad. I was this morning told an anecdote from the
Dorset family that is no bad collateral evidence of the
Jacobitism Of the Queen'S four last years. They wanted to get
Dover Castle into their hands, and sent down Prior to the present
Duke of Dorset, who loved him, and probably was his brother,(38)
to persuade him to give it up. He sent Prior back with great
an(-,er, and in three weeks was turned out of the government
himself but it is idle to produce proofs; as idle as to deny the
scheme.

I have just been with your brother Gal. who has been laid up
these two days with the gout in his ankle; an absolute
professed gout in all the forms, and with much pain. Mr. Chute
is out of town; when he returns, I shall set him upon your
brother to reduce him to abstinence and health. Adieu!

(30 At Whitehall.

(31) Daughter of Edward Young' Esq. and wife of William, Earl
of Rochford. She had been maid of honour to the Princess of
Wales.

(32) Penelope, sister of Sir Richard Atkyns.

(33) Fulke Greville, Esq. son of the Hon. Algernon Greville,
second son of Fulke, fifth Lord Brooke. His wife was the
authoress of the pretty poem entitled "an Ode to
Indifference."-D.

(34) This event was commemorated in the following doggrel
lines:--

"Poor Jenny Conway
She drank lemonade,
At a masquerade,
So now she's dead and gone away."-D.

(35) Lord Bolingbroke discovered what Pope had done during his
lifetime, and never forgave him for it. He-obliged him to give
up the copies, and they were burned on the terrace of Lord
Bolingbroke's house at Battersea, in the presence of Lord B.
and Pope.-D.

(36) In reference to this publication, Lord Bolingbroke
himself, in a letter to Lord Marchmont, written on the 7th of
June, says, "The book you mention has brought no trouble upon
me, though it has given occasion to many libels upon me. They
are of the lowest form, and seem to be held in the contempt
they deserve. There I shall leave them, nor suffer a nest of
hornets to disturb the quiet of my retreat. If these letters
of mine come to your hands, your lordship will find that I have
left out all that was said of our friend Lord Lyttelton in one
of them. He desired that it might be so; and I had at once the
double mortification of concealing the good I had said of one
friend, and of revealing the turpitude of another. I hope you
will never have the same treatment that I have met with;
neither will you. I am single in my circumstances--a species
apart in the political society; and they, who dare to attack no
one else, may attack me. Chesterfield says, I have made a
coalition of Wig, Tory, Trimmer, and Jacobite against myself.
Be it so. I have Truth, that is stronger than all of them, on
my side; and, in her company, and avowed by her, I have more
satisfaction than their applause and their favour could give
me." Marchmont Papers.-E.

(37) This thought was borrowed by Mr. Spence, in a pamphlet
published on this occasion in defence of Pope.

(38) Burnet relates that the Earl of Dorset, celebrated for
patronage of Genius, found Prior by chance reading Horace, and
was so well pleased with his proficiency, that he undertook the
care and cost of academical education.

27 Letter 5
To George Montagu, Esq.
Arlington Street, May 18, 1749,.

Dear George,
Whatever you hear of the Richmond fireworks, that is short of
the prettiest entertainment in the world, don't believe it - I
really never passed a more agreeable evening. Every thing
succeeded; all the wheels played in time; Frederick was
fortunate, and all the world in good humour. Then for
royalty--Mr. Anstis himself would have been glutted; there were
all the Fitzes upon earth, the whole court of St. Germains, the
Duke,(39) the Duke of Modena, and two Anamaboes. The King, and
Princess Emily bestowed themselves upon the mob on the river
and as soon as they were gone, the Duke had the music into the
garden, and himself, with my Lady Lincoln, Mrs. Pitt, Peggy
Banks, and Lord Holderness, entertained the good subjects with
singing God save the King to them over the rails of the
terrace. The Duke of Modena supped there, and the Duke was
asked, but he answered, it was impossible; in short, he could
not adjust his dignity to a mortal banquet. There was an
admirable scene: Lady Burlington brought the Violette, and the
Richmonds had asked Garrick who stood ogling and sighing the
whole time, while my Lady kept a most fierce look-out.
Sabbatini, one of the Duke of Modena's court, was asking me who
all the people were? and who is that? "C'est miladi Hartington,
la belle fille du Duc de Devonshire." "Et qui est cette autre
dame!" It was a distressing question; after a little
hesitation, I replied, "Mais c'est Mademoiselle Violette?" "Et
comment Mademoiselle Violette! j'ai connu une Mademoiselle
Violette, par exemple."(40) I begged him to look at Miss
Bishop.

In the middle of all these principalities and powers was the
Duchess of Queensbury, in her forlorn trim, a white apron and a
white hood, and would make the Duke swallow all her undress.
T'other day she drove post to Lady Sophia Thomas, at
Parsons-green, and told her that she was come to tell her
something of importance. " What is it!" "Why take a couple of
beef-steaks, clap them together as if they were for a dumpling,
and eat them with pepper and salt; it is the best thing you
ever tasted: I could not help coming to tell you this:" and
away she drove back to town. Don't a course of folly for forty
years make one very sick?

The weather is SO hot, and the roads so dusty, that I can't get
to Strawberry; but I shall begin negotiating with you now about
your coming. You must not expect to find it in beauty. I hope
to get my bill finished in ten days; I have scrambled it
through the lords; but altogether, with the many difficulties
and plagues, I am a good deal out of humour; my purchases
hitch, and new proprietors start out of the ground, like the
crop of soldiers in the Metamorphosis. I expect but an
unpleasant summer; my indolence and inattention are not made to
wade through leases and deeds. Mrs. Chenevix brought me one
yesterday to sign, and her sister Bertrand, the toy-woman of
Bath, for a witness. I showed them my cabinet of enamels
instead of treating them with white wine. The Bertrand said,
"Sir, I hope you don't trust all sorts of ladies with this
cabinet!" What an entertaining assumption of dignity! I must
tell you an anecdote that I found t'other day in an old French
author, which is a great drawback on beaux sentiments and
romantic ideas. Pasquier, in his "Recherches de la France," is
giving an account of the Queen of Scots' execution; he says,
the night before, knowing her body must be stripped for her
shroud, she would have her feet washed, because she used
ointment to one of them which was sore. I believe I have told
you, that in a very old trial of her, which I bought from Lord
Oxford's collection, it is said that she was a large lame
woman. Take sentiments out of their pantoufles, and reduce
them to the infirmities of mortality, what a falling off there
is! I could not help laughing in myself t'other day, as I went
through Holborn in a very hot day, at the dignity of human
nature; all those foul old-clothes women panting without
handkerchiefs, and mopping themselves all the way down within
their loose jumps. Rigby gave me a strong picture of human
nature; he and Peter Bathurst t'other night carried a servant
of the latter's, who had attempted to shoot him, before
Fielding; who, to all his other vocations, has, by the grace of
Mr. Lyttelton, added that of Middlesex justice. He sent them
word he was at supper, that they must come next morning. They
did not understand that freedom, and ran up, where they found
him banqueting with a blind man,(41) a whore, and three on some
cold mutton and a bone of ham, both in One dish, and the
dirtiest cloth. He never stirred nor asked them to sit.
Rigby, who had seen him so often come to beg a guinea of Sir C.
Williams, and Bathurst, at whose father's he had lived for
victual,,, understood that dignity as little, and pulled
themselves chairs; on which he civilized.(42)

Millar the bookseller has done generously by him: finding Tom
Jones, for which he had given him six hundred pounds, sell So
greatly, he has since given him another hundred.(43) Now I
talk to you of authors, Lord Cobham's West(44) has published
his translation of Pindar; the poetry is very stiff, but
prefixed to it there is a very entertaining account of the
Olympic games, and that preceded by an affected inscription to
Pitt and Lyttelton. The latter has declared his future match
with Miss Rich. George Grenville has been married these two
days to Miss Windham. Your friend Lord North is, I suppose you
know, on the brink with the countess of Rockingham;(45) and I
think your cousin Rice is much inclined to double the family
alliance with her sister Furnese. It went on very currently
for two or three days, but last night at Vauxhall his
minionette face seemed to be sent to languish with Lord R.
Berties's.

Was not you sorry for poor Cucumber? I do assure you I was; it
was shocking to be hurried away so suddenly, and in so much
torment. You have heard I suppose of Lord Harry Beauclerc's
resignation, on his not being able to obtain a respite till
November, though the lowest officer in his regiment has got
much longer leave. It is incredible how Nolkejumskoi has
persecuted this poor man for these four years, since he could
not be persuaded to alter his vote at a court-martial for the
acquittal of a man whom the Duke would have condemned. Lord
Ossulston, too, has resigned his commission.

I must tell you a good story of Charles Townshend: you know his
political propensity and importance; his brother George was at
supper at the King's Arms with some more young men. The
conversation somehow or other rambled into politics, and it was
started that the national debt was a benefit. "I am sure it is
not," said Mr. Townshend; I can't tell why, but my brother
Charles can, and I will send to him for arguments." Charles
was at supper at another tavern, but so much the dupe of this
message, that he literally called for ink and paper, wrote four
long sides of arguments, and sent word that when his company
broke up, he would come and give them more, which he did at one
o'clock in the morning. I don't think you will laugh much less
at what happened to me: I wanted a print out of a booth, which
I did not care to buy at Osborn's shop: the next day he sent me
the print, and begged that when I had any thing to publish, I
would employ him.

I will now tell you, and finish this long letter, how I shocked
Mr. Mackenzie inadvertently at Vauxhall: we had supped there a
great party, and coming out, Mrs. More, who waits at the gate,
said, "Gentlemen and ladies, you will walk in and hear the
surprising alteration of voice?" I forgetting Mackenzie's
connexions, and that he was formerly of the band, replied, "No,
I have seen patriots enough."

I intend this letter shall last you till you come to Strawberry
Hill. one might have rolled it out into half-a-dozen. My best
compliments to your sisters.

(39) The Duke of Cumberland.

(40) Garrick's; marriage with Mademoiselle Eva Maria Violette
took place four days after the date of this letter.-E.

(41) Sir Walter Scott suggests, that this blind man was
probably Fielding's brother.-E.

(42) "Allen, the friend of Pope," says Sir Walter Scott, "was
also one of his benefactors, but unnamed at his own desire;
thus confirming the truth of the poet's beautiful couplet,

'Let humble Allen, with an awkward shame,
Do good by stealth, and blush to find it fame.'

It is said that this munificent and modest patron made Fielding
a present of two hundred pounds at one time, and that even
before he was personally acquainted with him."-E.

(43) "This," observes Sir Walter Scott, in his biographical
notice of Fielding, " is a humiliating anecdote, even after we
have made allowance for the aristocratic exaggeration of
Walpole; yet it is consoling to observe that Fielding's
principles remained unshaken, though the circumstances
attending his official situation tended to increase the
careless disrespectability of his private habits. His own
account of his conduct respecting the dues of the office on
which he depended for subsistence, has never been denied or
doubted: 'I confess,' says he, 'that my private affairs at the
beginning of the winter had but a gloomy aspect; for I had not
plundered the public or the poor of those sums which they who
are always ready to plunder both as much as they can, have been
pleased to suspect me of taking: on the contrary, by composing,
instead of inflaming, the quarrels of porters and beggars, and
by refusing to take a shilling from a man who most undoubtedly
would not have had another left, I had reduced an income of
about five hundred a year, of the dirtiest money upon earth, to
a little more than three hundred; a considerable portion of
which remained with my clerk."'-E.

(44) West's mother was sister to Sir Richard Temple, afterwards
Lord Cobham. Of his translation of Pindar, Dr. Johnson states,
that he found his expectations surpassed, both by its elegance
and its exactness. For his "Observations on the Resurrection,"
the University of Oxford, in March 1748, created him a Doctor
of Laws by diploma. At his residence at Wickham, where he was
often visited by Lyttelton and Pitt, there is a walk designed
by the latter; while the former received at this place that
conviction which produced his "Dissertation on St. Paul."-E.

(45) Daughter of Sir Robert Furnese, and widow of Lewis, Earl
of Rockingham.

30 Letter 6
To Sir Horace Mann.
Strawberry Hill, June 4, 1749.

As summery as June and Strawberry Hill may sound, I assure you
I am writing to you by the fire-side: English weather will give
vent to its temper, and whenever it is out of humour it will
blow east and north and all kinds of cold. Your brothers Ned
and Gal. dined with me to-day, and I carried the latter back to
Richmond: as I passed over the green, I saw Lord Bath, Lord
Lonsdale,(46) and half-a-dozen more of the White's club
sauntering at the door of a house which they have taken there,
and come to every Saturday and Sunday to play at whist. You
will naturally ask why they can't play at whist in London on
those two days as well as on the other five; indeed I can't
tell you, except that it is so established a fashion to go out
of town at the end of the week, that people do go, though it be
only into another town. It made me smile to see Lord Bath
sitting there, like a citizen that has left off trade.

Your brother Ned has not seen Strawberry Hill since my great
improvements; he was astonished: it is pretty: you never saw so
tranquil a scene, without the least air of melancholy: I should
hate it, if it was dashed with that. I forgot to ask Gal. what
is become of the books of Houghton which I gave him six months
ago for you and Dr. Cocchi. You perceive I have got your
letter of May 23rd, and with it Prince Craon's simple epistle
to his daughter:(47) I have no mind to deliver it: it would be
a proper recommendation of a staring boy on his travels, and is
consequently very suitable to my colleague, Master St. Leger;
but one hates to be coupled with a romping grayhound puppy,
"qui est moins prudent que Monsieur Valpol!" I did not want to
be introduced to Madame de Mirepoix's assemblies, but to be
acquainted with her, as I like her family: I concluded, simple
as he is, that an old Frenchman knew how to make these
distinctions. By thrusting St. Leger into the letter with me,
and talking of my prudence, I shall not wonder if she takes me
for his bear-leader, his travelling governor!

Mr. Chute, who went from hence this morning, and is always
thinking of blazoning your pedigree(48) in the noblest colours,
has turned over all my library, till he has tapped a new and
very great family for you: in short, by your mother it is very
clear that you are descended from Hubert de Burgh, Grand
Justiciary to Richard the Second: indeed I think he was hanged;
but that is a misfortune that ill attend very illustrious
genealogies; it is as common to them as to the pedigrees about
Paddington and Blacieheath. I have had at least a dozen
great-great-grandfathers that came to untimely ends. All your
virtuosos in heraldry are content to know that they had
ancestors who lived five hundred years ago, no matter how they
died. A match with a low woman corrupts a stream of blood as
long as the Danube, tyranny, villainy, and executions are mere
fleabites, and leave no stain. The good Lord of Bath, whom I
saw on Richmond-green this evening, did intend, I believe, to
ennoble my genealogy with another execution: how low is he sunk
now from those views! and how entertaining to have lived to see
all those virtuous patriots proclaiming their mutual
iniquities! Your friend Mr. Doddington, it seems, is so reduced
as to be relapsing into virtue. In my last I told you some
curious anecdotes of another part of the band, of Pope and
Bolingbroke. The friends of the former have published twenty
pamphlets against the latter; I say against the latter, for, as
there is no defending Pope, they are reduced to satirize
Bolingbroke. One of them tells him how little he would be
known himself from his own writings, if he were not
immortalized in Pope's; and still more justly, that if be
destroys Pope's moral character, what will become of his own,
which has been retrieved and sanctified by the embalming art of
his friend? However, there are still new discoveries made
every day of Pope's dirty selfishness. Not content with the
great profits which he proposed to make of the work in
question, he could not bear that the interest of his money
should be lost till Bolingbroke's death; and therefore told him
that it would cost very near as much to have the press set for
half-a-dozen copies as it would for a complete edition, and by
this means made Lord Bolingbroke pay very near the whole
expense of the fifteen hundred. Another story I have been told
on this occasion, was of a gentleman who, making a visit to
Bishop Atterbury in France, thought to make his court by
commending Pope. The Bishop replied not: the gentleman doubled
the dose - at last the Bishop shook his head, and said, "Mens
curva in corpore curvo!" The world will now think justly of
these men: that Pope was the greatest poet, but not the most
disinterested man in the world; and that Bolingbroke had not
all those virtues and not all those talents which the other so
proclaimed; and that be did not even deserve the friendship
which lent him so much merit; and for the mere loan of which he
dissembled attachment to Pope, to whom in his heart he was as
perfidious and as false as he has been to the rest of the
world.