cluded, that Hollar engraved his print after the Restoration. Mr. Wright, clerk of the House of Lords, says, that Oliver placed them in the House of Commons. I don't know on what grounds he says so. I am, sir, with great gratitude, Your most obliged humble servant. To GEORGE MONTAGU, Esq. Strawberry-hill, May 25, 1762. I AM diverted with your anger at old Richard; can you really suppose that I think it any trouble to frank a few covers for you? Had I been with you, I should have cured you and your whole family in two nights with James's powder. If you have any remains of the disorder, let me beg you take seven or eight grains when you go to bed: if you have none, shall I send you some? For my own part, I am released again, though I have been tolerably bad, and one day had the gout for several hours in my head. I do not like such speedy returns. I have been so much confined, that I could not wait on Mrs. Osborn, and I do not take it unkindly, that she will not let me have the prints without fetching them. I met her, that is, passed her, t'other day as she was going to Bushy, and was sorry to see her look much older. Well! to-morrow is fixed for that phenomenon, the duke of Newcastle's resignation. He has had a parting levée; and as I suppose all bishops are prophets, they foresee that he will never come into place again, for there was but one that had the decency to take leave of him after crowding his rooms for forty years together; it was Cornwallis. I hear not even lord Lincoln resigns. Lord Bute succeeds to the treasury, and is to have the garter, too, on Thursday with prince William. Of your cousin I hear no more mention, but that he returns to his island, I cannot tell you exactly even the few changes that are to be made; but I can divert you with a bon-mot, which they give to my lord Chesterfield. The new peerages being mentioned, somebody said, "I suppose there will be no duke made;" he replied, "Oh yes, there is to be one."-" Is? who?"-Lord Talbot: he is to be created duke Humphrey, and there is to be no table kept at court but his." If you don't like this, what do you think of George Selwyn, who asked Charles Boone if it is true that he is going to be married to the fat rich Crawley? Boone denied it. "Lord!" said Selwyn, "I thought you were to be Patrick Fleming on the mountain, and that gold and silver you were counting! P.S. I cannot help telling you how comfortable the new disposition of the court is to me; the king and queen are settled for good and all at Buckingham-house, and are stripping the other palaces to furnish it. In short, they have already fetched pictures from Hampton-court, which indicates their never living there; consequently Strawberry-hill will remain in possession of its own tranquillity, and not become a cheese-cake house to the palace. All I ask of princes is, not to live within five miles of me. To GEORGE MONTAGU, Esq. Strawberry-hill, Wednesday night, June 1. SINCE you left Strawberry, the town (not the king of Prussia) has beaten count Daun, and made the peace, but the benefits of either have not been felt beyond Change-alley. Lord Melcomb is dying of a dropsy in his stomach, and lady Mary Wortley of a cancer in her breast. Mr. Hamilton was here last night, and complained of your not visiting him. He pumped me to know if lord Hertford has not thoughts of the crown of Ireland, and was more than persuaded that I should go with him: I told him what was true, that I knew nothing of the former; and for the latter, that I would as soon return with the king of the Cherokees.' When 1 Three Cherokee Indian Chiefs arrived in London from South Carolina, in June, 1762, and became, of course, the lions of the day. [Ed.] England has nothing that can tempt me, it would be strange if Ireland had. The Cherokee majesty dined here yesterday at lord Macclesfield's, where the Clive sang to them and the mob; don't imagine I was there, but I heard so at my lady Suffolk's. We have tapped a little butt of rain to-night, but my lawn is far from being drunk yet. Did not you find the Vine in great beauty? My compliments to it, and to your society. I only write to enclose the enclosed. I have consigned your button to old Richard. Adieu! Yours ever. To GEORGE MONTAGU, Esq. Strawberry-hill, June 8, 1762. WELL, you have had Mr. Chute. I did not dare to announce him to you, for he insisted on enjoying all your ejaculations. He gives me a good account of your health and spirits, but does not say when you come hither. I hope the general, as well as your brother John, know how welcome they would be, if they would accompany you. I trust it will be before the end of this month, for the very beginning of July I am to make a little visit to lord Ilchester, in Somersetshire, and I should not like not to see you before the middle or end of next month. is Mrs. Osborn has sent me the prints; they are woeful; but that my fault and the engraver's, not yours, to whom I am equally obliged; you don't tell me whether Mr. Bentley's play was acted or not, printed or not. There is another of the queen's brothers come over. Lady Northumberland made a pompous festino for him t'other night; not only the whole house, but the garden, was illuminated, and was quite a fairy scene. Arches and pyramids of lights alternately surrounded the enclosure; a diamond necklace of lamps edged the rails and descent, with a spiral obelisk of candles on each hand; and dispersed over the lawn were little bands of kettle-drums, clarionets, fifes, &c. and the lovely moon, who came without a card. The birth-day was far from being such a show; empty and unfine as possible. In truth, popularity does not make great promises to the new administration, and for fear it should hereafter be taxed with changing sides, it lets lord Bute be abused every day, though he has not had time to do the least wrong thing. His levee was crowded. Bothmar, the Danish minister, said, "La chaleur est excessive!" George Selwyn replied, "Pour se mettre au froid, il faut aller chez Monsieur le Duc de Newcastle!" There was another George not quite so tender. George Brudenel was passing by; somebody in the mob said, "What is the matter here?" Brudenel answered, "Why, there is a Scotchman got into the treasury, and they can't get him out." The archbishop, conscious of not having been at Newcastle's last levee, and ashamed of appearing at lord Bute's first, pretended he had been going by in his way from Lambeth, and, upon inquiry, found it was lord Bute's levee, and so had thought he might as well go in—I am glad he thought he might as well tell it. The mob call Buckingham-house, Holyrood-house; in short, every thing promises to be like times I can remember. Lord Anson is dead; poor Mrs. Osborn will not break her heart; I should think lord Melcomb' will succeed to the Admiralty. Adieu ! Yours ever. SIR, TO THE REV. MR. COLE. Strawberry-hill, July 29, 1762. I fear you will have thought me neglectful of the visit you was so good as to offer me for a day or two at this place: the truth is, I have been in Somersetshire on a visit, which was protracted much longer than I intended. I am now returned, and shall be glad to see you as soon as you please, Sunday or Monday next, if you like either, or any other day you will name. I cannot defer the pleasure of seeing you any longer, though to my mortification you will find Strawberry-hill with its worst. looks-not a blade of grass! My workmen, too, have disappointed me; they have been in the association for forcing their 1 Lord Halifax succeeded to the admiralty: lord Melcomb died 28th July, 1762, His title became extinct. A considerable estate went to earl Temple, and a patent place of £2,000 a year to the sons of the right hon. Henry Fox. [Ed.] masters to raise their wages, and but two are yet returned-so you must excuse litter and shavings. I am, sir, Your obedient servant. MADAM, TO THE COUNTESS OF AILESBURY. Strawberry-hill, July 31, 1762. Magnanimous as the fair soul of your ladyship is, and plaited with superabundance of Spartan fortitude, I felicitate my own good fortune who can circle this epistle with branches of the gentle olive, as well as crown it with victorious laurel. This pompous paragraph, madam, which in compliment to my lady Lyttelton I have penned in the style of her lord, means no more, than that I wish you joy of the castle of Waldeck, and more joy on the peace, which I find every body thinks is concluded. In truth, I still have my doubts; and yesterday came news, which, if my lord Bute does not make haste, may throw a little rub in the way. In short, the czar is dethroned. Some give the honour to his wife; others, who add the little circumstance of his being murdered too, ascribe the revolution to the archbishop of Novorgorod, who, like other priests, thinks assassination a less affront to Heaven than three Lutheran churches. I hope the latter is the truth; because in the honeymoonhood of lady C***'s tenderness, I don't know but she might miscarry at the thought of a wife preferring a crown, and scandal says, a regiment of grenadiers, to her husband. I have little meaning in naming lady Lyttelton and lady C***, who I think are at Park-place. Was not there a promise that you all three would meet Mr. Churchill and lady Mary here in the beginning of August? Yes, indeed there was, and I put in my claim.-Not confining your heroic and musical ladyship to a day or a week; my time is at your command: and I wish the rain was at mine; for, if you or it do not come soon, I shall not have a leaf left. Strawberry is browner than lady B*** F*** I was grieved, madam, to miss seeing you in town on Monday, 1 At the taking of which Mr. Conway had assisted. [Or.] |