they did not hot-headedly thrust themselves into more danger than their companions; and as General Washington was so easily beaten

of our enemy we heard different stories every moment, but none to be depended upon. General Washington dined here with a great attendance of officers two days before our arrival, and is now supposed to be between this and Philadelphia, which is about sixty miles from this place. The inhabitants are almost all fled from their houses, and have driven their cattle with them; so we do not live very luxuriously, though in a country that has every appearance of plenty, and is more beautiful than can be conceived, wherever the woods are at all cleared. Adieu, my dear Lady Ossory. Pray remember me to my sisters and my nieces, and let me hear from you as often as I can. Yours most sincerely and affectionately,

DEAR LADY OSSORY,

R. F. Philadelphia, Oct. 26, 1777.

From the very long time that we have not been heard of by our friends in Europe, they will certainly either totally forget that we exist, or perhaps conclude that we do really exist no longer; but as I flatter myself the first is not so, I likewise flatter myself that you will be glad to hear that the latter is not the case in short, I am alive and well, and happy to have at last an opportunity of thanking you for your kindness to a malheureux exilé. I shall not trouble you with politics or a history of the campaign, for which, if you have any curiosity, I must refer you to others of my correspondents, or to the Gazette if you please, though I question if the last will reveal the whole truth of the melancholy posture of our affairs in this part of the world. I should be very unlucky if I had changed my sentiments upon these subjects at present, as the Duchess of B. has been erroneously informed, for I should have the mortification of finding everything going from bad to worse every moment. We arrived at this place above a month since, though we cannot possibly be said to be in possession of it yet, as the ships cannot get up the river, and, in spite of all their and our exertions, do not seem more likely to succeed in that object than they were three days after our arrival.

I cannot say much for the town of Philadelphia, which has no view but the straightness and uniformity of the streets. Till we arrived, I believe it was a very populous city, but at present it is very thinly inhabited, and that only by the canaille and the Quakers, whose peaceable disposition has prevented their taking up arms, and consequently has engaged them in our interests, by drawing upon them the displeasure of their countrymen. If what we hear of General Burgoyne's situation be true, and that he and his whole army are literally prisoners, I think neither the war nor the Ministry can possibly last another campaign. A few days after our battle at the Brandy-wine, a surgeon, who came from the enemy to dress the wounded Americans who had fallen into our hands, brought me a very kind message from Monsieur de la Fayette. He had been wounded himself in the action, and sent to inquire after me particularly, because it had happened that we had literally been opposite to each other in the engagement. Our danger, however, had been very inconsiderable, as it happened luckily for us that the enemy made less resistance where we attacked than in any other part of the battle. The consequences of this victory have been exactly like those of the others. In short, it is really melancholy to see so much misery occasioned, and so many troops sacrificed every day to so little purpose.

I am much obliged to you for the hint you gave me upon the subject of my leisure hours, and for the future am determined to follow your advice. I am in hopes of seeing you this winter: have you had a presentiment upon the subject? You know they are always infallible. Lord Lindsey is arrived here, but his ton is too bad even for this part of the world, and nobody can bear him. Sir John W. informs me that notre chère tante Lady G. is very ill, which her nephews on this side the Atlantic scem not much to care about. An unfortunate accident has happened here: Captain Tollemache is killed in a duel by a wrongheaded officer in the Guards, a Mr.

without a stroke being struck, Mr. Fitzpatrick and Lord Chewton could not acquire more honour than General Howe himself, who has been presented with a victory that he has not earned, and of which he probably will not hear this month.

In short, not only no confirmation is come of the New York Gazette, but the Ministers say they have traced the two ships that brought the news to Liverpool and Glasgow, and have discovered

Pennington, whom he brought over in his ship. As it happened at New York, we do not know the particulars, but everybody concludes the latter to have been in the wrong, from his general character. I cannot help pitying Lady Bridget, though she is a detestable woman. I am quite of your opinion with regard to the poetry you sent me, and lament that the Duchess of D.'s panegyrist is so inferior to the satirist ; but unfortunately that is commonly the case. The packet is to be ready to sail tomorrow, and our letters must be sent immediately. Adieu, ma chère sœur! I beg you will thank Car for the very kind letter she wrote me, which I would certainly have answered, if I had had notice of the packet's sailing sooner; but I really now have not time. Pray desire her to say the same from me to Lady W. the first time she writes, and tell Louisa that, though I cannot wonder at her refusing Mr. H., I beg she will leave off that foolish practice. Adieu, dear Lady Ossory. Yours mcst affectionately,

My love to Anne.

DEAR LADY OSSORY,

R. F.

Philadelphia, March 3, 1778.

I sit down to write you a very short letter, just to return you a thousand thanks for those you have been so good as to write to me; but, from the last I wrote, I am sure you cannot expect any entertainment from this place, which is not become more lively since the last account I sent you of it. I am much obliged to you, too, for Mr. W.'s letter, who you say is quite wild, which I am sure he cannot be more than I am, upon the subject of politics. J'enrage quand j'y pense. I shall have, however, soon the satisfaction of being delivered from the most disagreeable situation I was ever in, as well as the happiness of seeing you again. My brother will inform you que mon parti est pris, and I flatter myself that both he and you will think I am in the right.

We are all astonished here at Lord Waldegrave's being so punctilious; I am sorry for it, because I am afraid it will be an additional pretence for starving poor Chewton. Sir John W. has got the King's leave to go to England, but I am afraid he thinks it too late to set out and to return for the next campaign. which I, as well as the whole army, am very sorry for, as he is the fléau and ennui of all his acquaintance. I hope the revival of the Citron's flame gives a good turn at least to her politics. Your patience, I am afraid, will be worn out; but at last you may depend upon it the event will justify our opinions, and will end in the utter confusion of the Ministers, and, I am really afraid, in the utter destruction of the country: the first, however, I shall sincerely rejoice at, and it will be some consolation not to have been instrumental in the last. It is ridiculous to send so short a letter from this part of the globe, mais que voulez-vous, and while we vegetate in this place nothing can be expected. This is certainly the last letter I shall bore you with from it, and therefore I beg you will forgive the dulness of it, and believe me, my dear Lady Ossory, yours most truly and sincerely, R. F. Pray give my love to Anne and Gertrude, since she is so gracious as to accept of it. -R. VERNON SMITH.

1 Miss Vernon, afterwards Mrs. Robert Percy Smith, and the mother of the Right Hon. Robert Vernon Smith.-CUNNINGHAM,

that they were sent by Panchaud on some stock-jobbing errand. If this is true, they have good reason to be peevish, for never were people more egregiously duped. I have not time to say more now, but I am happy to take off some anxiety from Ampthill.

1691. TO SIR HORACE MANN.

Arlington Street, Nov. 7, 1777.

You will have seen in the papers, before you can receive this, such accounts of a total defeat of Washington, that you might wonder at my silence if I did not say a word: that word must be, that I very much doubt the fact; and, if it was known at New York so long ago as the supposed Gazette thence says, it would be wonderful, indeed, that General Howe should keep it a profound secret from the Government here, whom he might suppose a little interested to hear some good news or other after a long dearth.

The first breath of this report was said to come from France yesterday sevennight. On Sunday morning early it was asserted as a fact by a New York Gazette arrived at Liverpool. On Tuesday I came to town, intending to write to you; but, finding no confirmation come, I thought it prudent not to assert what I knew no better. From Tuesday to Friday night is a long interval on such an occasion; and, though some still say that they believe Washington beaten, they do not use, I observe, much stronger terms than received a check. One has heard of towns burnt to the ground, that have turned out to be a chimney on fire. In the mean time I tell you all I know, and I am not apt to believe more of things at such a distance.

Of what there is no doubt is, the check Burgoyne has received, and the distress of his army, that the last accounts left in danger of being starved. There have been accounts of his recovering the blow, but I cannot find one person who believes that. In one word, it is a very serious moment; and, without greater views, the misery of so many who have relations and friends both in Howe's and Burgoyne's armies is terrible. It is known that the latter had twenty-six officers wounded; and as their names are not come, ten times the number may be suffering the worst anxiety. The distance of the war augments its horrors almost as much as its expense, and makes it grow every day more irksome.

I have no private news to send you of any sort. The town is still

empty. I come now and then to see the Duke and Duchess. He does not recover of his lameness, and in general I find people think he looks worse than it appears to me. She looks infinitely better than at her arrival, but she has a perfect constitution.

I see no prospect of an end to this American war, but from our inability to carry it on: and what can that produce but a war from France-I don't say with France; for where can we attack them if we lose America; and where are we to be attacked but in our own islands and the East Indies-which are not quite near enough to assist each other? There is no looking towards such a prospect.

If Burgoyne's army is destroyed, little force left in Canada, only seven thousand men in New York, Howe's army not increased by his tedious voyage, and three battles with Washington, if truewhere are we to stamp and conjure up new armies? And what will less armies achieve, which such large ones have not compassed in three campaigns? We have lost Boston, have got New York, and perhaps Philadelphia. If the Americans have fought, they will fight. If they have not, can you make them? And can you conquer them without beating them? Can you maintain the country when you have conquered it? Will a destroyed country maintain your army? And can this country maintain or recruit it, when you can already get no recruits but from Germany? We are like Lord Holland paying the debts of his sons; he ruined himself, and left them beggars.

1692. TO THE COUNTESS OF OSSORY.

Nov. 13, 1777.

I HAVE had nothing to add to my accounts, Madam, nor have now more than you will see in the papers.

There is come in a ship from Halifax, which is not next door to Philadelphia, the captain of which was told by another captain from New York, that Sir W. Howe had had an engagement with Washington, and had the advantage; Washington having lost, some say, fifteen hundred men-some five hundred men. But the singular part of this story is, that captain of captains says the action passed on the 25th, and not the 11th, which does not prove that the New York Gazette of the 29th was very authentic. In short, it is the House that Jack built, except that it loses a story in the hands of every new builder. Nobody knows what to make of such a cloud,

which has occasioned as much reasoning, and consequently as much false reasoning as ever was heard.

What is believed is, that Captain Tollemache, Lady Bridget's husband, is killed in a duel at New York, by a Captain Pennington, on a foolish quarrel about humming a tune. There is strange fatality attends the House of Tollemache: two brothers drowned and a third killed! My poor niece, Lady Dysart, who is all goodness and good-nature, will be very unhappy, as she was about the last brother! But indeed if she can love the eldest, it would not be just to be indifferent to the others; though, except the second, I never heard much good of any of them. I know which is the worst.

I have seen George twice since his return from Ampthill. You have done him a great deal of good; he was in spirits yesterday; this morning there was a little relapse. He is gone, I believe, to Lady Holland, but returns to-morrow, as his mother is come to town not in a good way.

I hope you saw and was delighted with the parody of Burgoyne's Despatch. I never saw more humour, nor better kept up. It is as much admired as it deserves. General Swagger is said to be entrenched at Saratoga, but I question whether he will be left at leisure to continue his Commentaries: one Arnold is mighty apt to interrupt him.

Thursday morning.

I AM come to town to take possession of Berkeley Square; and your Ladyship's letter of the 9th, which, N.B., I received but yesterday, gives me great hopes of finding you in town. How happy I shall be if you are, and that I may catch a glimpse of you after dinner!

Your Ladyship is most obliging, and I will let the Strawberries know the honour you intended them, but alas! they go into Yorkshire on Wednesday for two months. I shall be quite content with the party already named of yourselves, your two lady daughters, and Mr. Selwyn. You have all seen how likely I am to tumble on my nose, and therefore I shall not be ashamed if I do; but I do not wish for more witnesses; and as I cannot stand to show my house, you will be so good as to excuse my sitting; and I should grow confused if I had new honours to do, and could not perform them.

If it is possible that Madame d'Andelot should know that there is