BestLightNovel.com

Letters Of Horace Walpole Volume I Part 21

Letters Of Horace Walpole - BestLightNovel.com

You’re reading novel Letters Of Horace Walpole Volume I Part 21 online at BestLightNovel.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit BestLightNovel.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy

A b.u.t.t of sack, delivered without fee or gratuity, with an order for returning the cask for the use of the office, by command.

From the Great Wardrobe:

Three velvet bags, delivered without fee, by command.

From the Treasurer of the Household's Office:

A year's salary paid free from land-tax, poundage, or any other deduction whatever by command.



From the Jewel Office:

A silver b.u.t.t, a silver cup, a wreath of bays, by command without fee.

Then came the Patent:

By these presents be it known, To all who bend before our throne, Fays and fairies, elves and sprites, Beauteous dames and gallant knights, That we, Oberon the grand, Emperor of fairy land, King of moons.h.i.+ne, prince of dreams, Lord of Aganippe's streams, Baron of the dimpled isles That lie in pretty maiden's smiles, Arch-treasurer of all the graces Dispersed through fifty lovely faces, Sovereign of the slipper's order, With all the rites thereon that border, Defender of the sylphic faith, Declare--and thus your monarch saith: Whereas there is a n.o.ble dame, Whom mortals Countess Temple name, To whom ourself did erst impart The choicest secrets of our art, Taught her to tune the harmonious line To our own melody divine, Taught her the graceful negligence, Which, scorning art and veiling sense, Achieves that conquest o'er the heart Sense seldom gains, and never art: This lady, 'tis our royal will Our laureate's vacant seat should fill; A chaplet of immortal bays Shall crown her brow and guard her lays, Of nectar sack an acorn cup Be at her board each year filled up; And as each quarter feast comes round A silver penny shall be found Within the compa.s.s of her shoe-- And so we bid you all adieu!

Given at our palace of Cowslip Castle, the shortest night of the year.

OBERON.

And underneath,

HOTHAMINA.

How shall I tell you the greatest curiosity of the story? The whole plan and execution of the second act was laid and adjusted by my Lady Suffolk herself and Will. Chetwynd, Master of the Mint, Lord Bolingbroke's Oroonoko-Chetwynd;[1] he fourscore, she past seventy-six; and, what is more, much worse than I was, for added to her deafness, she has been confined these three weeks with the gout in her eyes, and was actually then in misery, and had been without sleep. What spirits, and cleverness, and imagination, at that age, and under those afflicting circ.u.mstances! You reconnoitre her old court knowledge, how charmingly she has applied it! Do you wonder I pa.s.s so many hours and evenings with her? Alas! I had like to have lost her this morning! They had poulticed her feet to draw the gout downwards, and began to succeed yesterday, but to-day it flew up into her head, and she was almost in convulsions with the agony, and screamed dreadfully; proof enough how ill she was, for her patience and good breeding makes her for ever sink and conceal what she feels. This evening the gout has been driven back to her foot, and I trust she is out of danger. Her loss will be irreparable to me at Twickenham, where she is by far the most rational and agreeable company I have.

[Footnote 1: Oroonoko-Chetwynd, M.P. for Plymouth. He was called Oroonoko and sometimes "Black Will," from his dark complexion.]

I don't tell you that the Hereditary Prince [of Brunswick][1] is still expected and not arrived. A royal wedding would be a flat episode after a _real_ fairy tale, though the bridegroom is a hero. I have not seen your brother General yet, but have called on him, When come you yourself? Never mind the town and its filthy politics; we can go to the Gallery at Strawberry--stay, I don't know whether we can or not, my hill is almost drowned, I don't know how your mountain is--well, we can take a boat, and always be gay there; I wish we may be so at seventy-six and eighty! I abominate politics more and more; we had glories, and would not keep them: well! content, that there was an end of blood; then perks prerogative its a.s.s's ears up; we are always to be saving our liberties, and then staking them again! 'Tis wearisome! I hate the discussion, and yet one cannot always sit at a gaming-table and never make a bet. I wish for nothing, I care not a straw for the inns or the outs; I determine never to think of them, yet the contagion catches one; can you tell anything that will prevent infection? Well then, here I swear,--no, I won't swear, one always breaks one's oath. Oh, that I had been born to love a court like Sir William Breton! I should have lived and died with the comfort of thinking that courts there will be to all eternity, and the liberty of my country would never once have ruffled my smile, or spoiled my bow. I envy Sir William. Good night!

[Footnote 1: The Duke of Brunswick, who was mortally wounded in 1806 at the battle of Jena. He had come, as is mentioned in the next letter, to marry the King's sister.]

_MARRIAGE OF THE PRINCE OF BRUNSWICK: HIS POPULARITY._

TO SIR HORACE MANN.

ARLINGTON STREET, _Jan._ 18, 1764.

Shall I tell you of all our crowds, and b.a.l.l.s, and embroideries? Don't I grow too old to describe drawing-rooms? Surely I do, when I find myself too old to go into them. I forswore puppet-shows at the last coronation, and have kept my word to myself. However, being bound by a prior vow, to keep up the acquaintance between you and your own country, I will show you, what by the way I have not seen myself, the Prince of Brunswick. He arrived at Somerset House last Friday evening; at Chelmsford a quaker walked into the room, _did_ pull off his hat, and said, "Friend, my religion forbids me to fight, but I honour those that fight well." The Prince, though he does not speak English, understands it enough to be pleased with the compliment. He received another, very flattering. As he went next morning to St. James's, he spied in the crowd one of Elliot's light-horse and kissed his hand to the man.

"What!" said the populace, "does he know you?" "Yes," replied the man; "he once led me into a sc.r.a.pe, which nothing but himself could have brought me out of again." You may guess how much this added to the Prince's popularity, which was at high-water mark before.

When he had visited the King and Queen, he went to the Princess Dowager at Leicester House, and saw his mistress. He is very _galant_, and professes great satisfaction in his fortune, for he had not even seen her picture. He carries his good-breeding so far as to declare he would have returned unmarried, if she had not pleased him. He has had levees and dinners at Somerset House; to the latter, company was named for him.

On Monday evening they were married by the Archbishop in the great drawing-room, with little ceremony; supped, and lay at Leicester House.

Yesterday morning was a drawing-room at St. James's, and a ball at night; both repeated to-day, for the Queen's birthday. On Thursday they go to the play; on Friday the Queen gives them a ball and dinner at her house; on Sat.u.r.day they dine with the Princess at Kew, and return for the Opera; and on Wednesday--why, they make their bow and curtsy, and sail.

The Prince has pleased everybody; his manner is thought sensible and engaging; his person slim, genteel, and handsome enough; that is, not at all handsome, but martial, agreeably weather-worn. I should be able to swear to all this on Sat.u.r.day, when I intend to see him; but, alas! the post departs on Friday, and, however material my testimony may be, he must want it.

_GAMBLING QUARRELS--MR. CONWAY'S SPEECH._

TO THE EARL OF HERTFORD.

ARLINGTON STREET, _Feb._ 6, 1764.

You have, I hope, long before this, my dear lord, received the immense letter that I sent you by old Monin. It explained much, and announced most part of which has already happened; for you will observe that when I tell you anything very positively, it is on good intelligence. I have another much bigger secret for you, but that will be delivered to you by word of mouth. I am not a little impatient for the long letter you promised me. In the mean time thank you for the account you give me of the King's extreme civility to you. It is like yourself to dwell on that, and to say little of M. de Chaulnes's dirtv behaviour; but Monsieur and Madame de Guerchy have told your brother and me all the particulars.

I was but too good a prophet when I warned you to expect new extravagances from the Duc de Chaulnes's son. Some weeks ago he lost five hundred pounds to one Virette, an equivocal being, that you remember here. Paolucci, the Modenese minister, who is not in the odour of honesty, was of the party. The Duc de Pecquigny said to the latter, "Monsieur, ne jouez plus avec lui, si vous n'etes pas de moitie." So far was very well. On Sat.u.r.day, at the Maccaroni Club (which is composed of all the travelled young men who wear long curls and spying gla.s.ses), they played again: the Duc lost, but not much. In the pa.s.sage at the Opera, the Duc saw Mr. Stuart talking to Virette, and told the former that Virette was a coquin, a fripon, &c., &c. Virette retired, saying only, "Voila un fou." The Duc then desired Lord Tavistock to come and see him fight Virette, but the Marquis desired to be excused. After the Opera, Virette went to the Duc's lodgings, but found him gone to make his complaint to Monsieur de Guerchy, whither he followed him; and farther this deponent knoweth not. I pity the Count [de Guerchy], who is one of the best-natured amiable men in the world, for having this absurd boy upon his hands!

Well! now for a little politics. The Cider Bill has not answered to the minority, though they ran the ministry hard; but last Friday was extraordinary. George Grenville was pushed upon some Navy Bills. I don't understand a syllable, you know, of money and accounts; but whatever was the matter, he was driven from entrenchment to entrenchment by Baker and Charles Townshend. After that affair was over, and many gone away, Sir W. Meredith moved for the depositions on which the warrant against Wilkes had been granted. The Ministers complained of the motion being made so late in the day; called it a surprise; and Rigby moved to adjourn, which was carried but by 73 to 60. Had a surprise been intended, you may imagine the minority would have been better provided with numbers; but it certainly had not been concerted: however, a majority, shrunk to thirteen, frightened them out of the small senses they possess. Heaven, Earth, and the Treasury, were moved to recover their ground to-day, when the question was renewed. For about two hours the debate hobbled on very lamely, when on a sudden your brother rose, and made such a speech[1]--but I wish anybody was to give you the account except me, whom you will think partial: but you will hear enough of it, to confirm anything I can say. Imagine fire, rapidity, argument, knowledge, wit, ridicule, grace, spirit; all pouring like a torrent, but without clas.h.i.+ng. Imagine the House in a tumult of continued applause, imagine the Ministers thunderstruck; lawyers abashed and almost blus.h.i.+ng, for it was on their quibbles and evasions he fell most heavily, at the same time answering a whole session of arguments on the side of the court. No, it was _unique_; you can neither conceive it, nor the exclamations it occasioned. Ellis, the Forlorn Hope, Ellis presented himself in the gap, till the ministers could recover themselves, when on a sudden Lord George Sackville _led up the Blues_; spoke with as much warmth as your brother had, and with great force continued the attack which he had begun. Did not I tell you he would take this part? I was made privy to it; but this is far from all you are to expect. Lord North in vain rumbled about his mustard-bowl, and endeavoured alone to outroar a whole party: him and Forrester, Charles Townshend took up, but less well than usual. His jealousy of your brother's success, which was very evident, did not help him to s.h.i.+ne. There were several other speeches, and, upon the whole, it was a capital debate; but Plutus is so much more persuasive an orator than your brother or Lord George, that we divided but 122 against 217. Lord Strange, who had agreed to the question, did not dare to vote for it, and declared off; and George Townshend, who had actually voted for it on Friday, now voted against us. Well! upon the whole, I heartily wish this administration may last: both their characters and abilities are so contemptible, that I am sure we can be in no danger from prerogative when trusted to such hands!

[Footnote 1: Walpole must have exaggerated the merits of this speech; for Conway was never remarkable for eloquence. Indeed, Walpole himself, in his "Memoirs of George II.," quotes Mr. Hutchinson, the Prime Serjeant in Ireland, contrasting him with Lord G. Sackville, "Lord George having parts, but no integrity; Conway integrity, but no parts: and now they were governed by one who had neither." And Walpole's comment on this comparison is: "There was more wit than truth in this description. Conway's parts, though not brilliant, were solid" (vol. ii.

p. 246). In his "Life of Pitt" Lord Stanhope describes him as "a man who, in the course of a long public life, had shown little vigour or decision, but who was much respected for his honourable character and moderate counsels" (c. 5).]

Before I have done with Charles Townshend, I must tell you one of his admirable _bon mots_. Miss Draycote, the great fortune, is grown very fat; he says her _tonnage_ is become equal to her _poundage_.

_ACCOUNT OF THE DEBATE ON THE GENERAL WARRANT._

TO THE EARL OF HERTFORD.

ARLINGTON STREET, _Wednesday, Feb._ 15, 1764.

My dear Lord,--You ought to be witness to the fatigue I am suffering, before you can estimate the merit I have in being writing to you at this moment. Cast up eleven hours in the House of Commons on Monday, and above seventeen hours yesterday,--ay, seventeen at length,--and then you may guess if I am tired! nay, you must add seventeen hours that I may possibly be there on Friday, and then calculate if I am weary. In short, yesterday was the longest day ever known in the House of Commons--why, on the Westminster election at the end of my father's reign, I was at home by six. On Alexander Murray's affair, I believe, by five--on the militia, twenty people, I think, sat till six, but then they were only among themselves, no heat, no noise, no roaring. It was half an hour after seven this morning before I was at home. Think of that, and then brag of your French parliaments!

What is ten times greater, Leonidas and the Spartan _minority_ did not make such a stand at Thermopylae, as we did. Do you know, we had like to have been the _majority_? Xerxes[1] is frightened out of his senses; Sysigambis[1] has sent an express to Luton to forbid Phraates[1] coming to town to-morrow; Norton's[2] impudence has forsaken him; Bishop Warburton is at this moment reinstating Mr. Pitt's name in the dedication to his Sermons, which he had expunged for Sandwich's; and Sandwich himself is--at Paris, perhaps, by this time, for the first thing that I expect to hear to-morrow is, that he is gone off.

[Footnote 1: "_Xerxes, Sysigambis, Phraates._" These names contain allusions to one of Mdlle. Scuderi's novels, which, as D'Israeli remarks, are "representations of what pa.s.sed at the Court of France"; but in this letter the scene of action is transferred to England. Xerxes is George III.; Sysigambis, the Princess Dowager; and Phraates is Lord Bute.]

[Footnote 2: Sir Fletcher Norton, the Speaker.]

Now are you mortally angry with me for trifling with you, and not telling you at once the particulars of this _almost-revolution_? You may be angry, but I shall take my own time, and shall give myself what airs I please both to you, my Lord Amba.s.sador, and to you, my Lord Secretary of State, who will, I suppose, open this letter--if you have courage enough left. In the first place, I a.s.sume all the impertinence of a prophet,--aye, of that great curiosity, a prophet, who really prophesied before the event, and whose predictions have been accomplished. Have I, or have I not, announced to you the unexpected blows that would be given to the administration?--come, I will lay aside my dignity, and satisfy your impatience. There's moderation.

We sat all Monday hearing evidence against Mr. Wood,[1] that dirty wretch Webb, and the messengers, for their illegal proceedings against Mr. Wilkes. At midnight, Mr. Grenville offered us to adjourn or proceed.

Mr. Pitt humbly begged not to eat or sleep till so great a point should be decided. On a division, in which though many said _aye_ to adjourning, n.o.body would go out for fear of losing their seats, it was carried by 379 to 31, for proceeding--and then--half the House went away. The ministers representing the indecency of this, and Fitzherbert saying that many were within call, Stanley observed, that after voting against adjournment, a third part had adjourned themselves, when, instead of being within _call_, they ought to have been within _hearing_; this was unanswerable, and we adjourned.

[Footnote 1: Mr. Wood and Mr. Webb were the Under-Secretary of State and the Solicitor of the Treasury; and, as such, the officers chiefly responsible for the _form_ of the warrant complained of.]

Yesterday we fell to again. It was one in the morning before the evidence was closed. Carrington, the messenger, was alone examined for seven hours. This old man, the cleverest of all ministerial terriers, was pleased with recounting his achievements, yet perfectly guarded and betraying nothing. However, the _arcana imperii_ have been wofully laid open.

I have heard Garrick, and other players, give themselves airs of fatigue after a long part--think of the Speaker, nay, think of the clerks taking most correct minutes for sixteen hours, and reading them over to every witness; and then let me hear of fatigue! Do you know, not only my Lord Temple,[1]--who you may swear never budged as spectator,--but old Will Chetwynd, now past eighty, and who had walked to the House, did not stir a single moment out of his place, from three in the afternoon till the division at seven in the morning. Nay, we had _patriotesses_, too, who stayed out the whole: Lady Rockingham and Lady Sondes the first day; both again the second day, with Miss Mary Pelham, Mrs. Fitzroy, and the d.u.c.h.ess of Richmond, as patriot as any of us. Lady Mary c.o.ke, Mrs.

George Pitt, and Lady Pembroke, came after the Opera, but I think did not stay above seven or eight hours at most.

[Footnote 1: Lord Temple was Mr. Pitt's brother-in-law, a restless and impracticable intriguer. He had some such especial power of influencing Mr. Pitt--who, it is supposed, must have been under some pecuniary obligation to him--that he was able the next year to prevent his accepting the office of Prime Minister when the King pressed it on him.]

At one, Sir W. Meredith moved a resolution of the illegality of the Warrant, and opened it well. He was seconded by old Darlington's brother, a convert to us. Mr. Wood, who had shone the preceding day by great modesty, decency, and ingenuity, forfeited these merits a good deal by starting up, (according to a Ministerial plan,) and very arrogantly, and repeatedly in the night, demanding justice and a previous acquittal, and telling the House he scorned to accept being merely _excused_; to which Mr. Pitt replied, that if he disdained to be _excused_, he would deserve to be _censured_. Mr. Charles Yorke (who, with his family, have come roundly to us for support against the Duke of Bedford on the Marriage Bill) proposed to adjourn. Grenville and the ministry would have agreed to adjourn the debate on the great question itself, but declared they would push this acquittal. This they announced haughtily enough--for as yet, they did not doubt of their strength. Lord Frederick Campbell was the most impetuous of all, so little he foresaw how much _wiser_ it would be to follow your brother. Pitt made a short speech, excellently argumentative, and not bombast, nor tedious, nor deviating from the question. He was supported by your brother, and Charles Townshend, and Lord George; the two last of whom are strangely firm, now they are got under the cannon of your brother:--Charles, who, as he must be extraordinary, is now so in romantic nicety of honour. His father, who is dying, or dead, at Bath, and from whom he hopes two thousand a year, has sent for him. He has refused to go--lest his _steadiness_ should be questioned. At a quarter after four we divided.

_Our_ cry was so loud, that both we and the ministers thought we had carried it. It is not to be painted, the dismay of the latter--in good truth not without reason, for _we_ were 197, they but 207. Your experience can tell you, that a majority of _but_ ten is a defeat.

Amidst a great defection from them, was even a white staff, Lord Charles Spencer--now you know still more of what I told you was preparing for them!

Please click Like and leave more comments to support and keep us alive.

RECENTLY UPDATED MANGA

Letters Of Horace Walpole Volume I Part 21 summary

You're reading Letters Of Horace Walpole. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Horace Walpole. Already has 609 views.

It's great if you read and follow any novel on our website. We promise you that we'll bring you the latest, hottest novel everyday and FREE.

BestLightNovel.com is a most smartest website for reading manga online, it can automatic resize images to fit your pc screen, even on your mobile. Experience now by using your smartphone and access to BestLightNovel.com