Page images
PDF
EPUB

no end, come what changes will! Now, do you wonder any longer at my resolution? In the mean time adieu for the

present!

TO THE RIGHT HON. LADY HERVEY.

November 10, 1764.

SOH! Madam, you expect to be thanked, because you have done a very obliging thing! But I won't thank you, and I won't be obliged. It is very hard one can't come into your house and commend anything, but you must recollect it and send it after one! I will never dine in your house again; and, when I do, I will like nothing; and when I do, I will commend nothing; and when I do, you shan't remember it. You are very grateful indeed to Providence that gave you so good a memory, to stuff it with nothing but bills of fare of what everybody likes to eat and drink! I wonder you are not ashamed-I wonder you are not ashamed! Do you think there is no such thing as gluttony of the memory?-You a Christian! A pretty account you will be able to give of yourself! Your fine folks in France may call this friendship and attention, perhaps but sure, if I was to go to the devil, it should be for thinking of nothing but myself, not of others, from morning to night. I would send back your temptations; but, as I will not be obliged to you for them, verily I shall retain them to punish you; ingratitude being a proper chastisement for sinful friendliness. Thine in the spirit,

PILCHARD WHITFIELD.

TO THE EARL OF HERTFORD.

Strawberry Hill, Nov. 25, 1764.

How could you be so kind, my dear lord, as to recollect Dr. Blanchard, after so long an interval. It will make me

Lady Hervey, it is supposed, had sent Mr. Walpole some potted pilchards.

still more cautious of giving recommendations to you, instead of drawing upon the credit you give me. I saw Mr. Stanley last night at the Opera, who made his court extremely to me by what he said of you. It was our first opera, and I went to town to hear Manzoli,1 who did not quite answer my expectation, though a very fine singer, but his voice has been younger, and wants the touching tones of Elisi. However, the audience was not so nice, but applauded him immoderately, and encored three of his songs. The first woman was advertised for a perfect beauty, with no voice; but her beauty and voice are by no means so unequally balanced: she has a pretty little small pipe, and only a pretty little small person, and share of beauty, and does not act ill. There is Tenducci, a moderate tenor, and all the rest intolerable. If you don't make haste and send us Doberval, I don't know what we shall do. The dances were not only hissed, as truly they deserved to be, but the gallery, à-la-Drury-Lane, cried out, "Off! off!" The boxes were empty, for so is the town, to a degree. The person who ordered me to write to you for Doberval, was reduced to languish in the Duchess of Hamilton's box. My Duchess does not appear yet-I fear.

Shall I tell you anything about D'Eon? it is sending coals to Paris: you must know his story better than me; so in two words: Vergy, his antagonist, is become his convert :5 has wrote for him, and sworn for him,-nay, has made an affidavit before Judge Wilmot, that Monsieur de Guerchy had hired him to stab or poison D'Eon. Did you ever see a man who

"Manzoli's voice was the most powerful and voluminous soprano that had been heard on our stage since the time of Farinelli; and his manner of singing was grand and full of taste and dignity. The lovers of music in London were more unanimous in approving his voice and talents, than those of any other singer within my memory." Burney. -E.

"Elisi, though a great singer, was a still greater actor: his figure was large and majestic, and he had a great compass of voice." Ibid.-E. 3 Probably Mrs. George Pitt.-C. 4 Of Grafton.

5 This is altogether a very mysterious affair: M. de Vergy was the cause of D'Eon's violent behaviour at Lord Halifax's (see antè, p. 323); he afterwards took D'Eon's part, and had the effrontery and the infamy to say, that he was suborned by the French ministry to quarrel with and ruin D'Eon.-C.

had less of an assassin than your pendant, as Nivernois calls it! In short, the story is as clumsy as it is abominable. The King's Bench cited D'Eon to receive his sentence: he absconds that court issued a warrant to search for him, and a house in Scotland-yard, where he lodged, was broken open, but in vain. If there is any thing more, you know it yourself. This law transaction is buried in another. The Master of the Rolls, Sir Thomas Clarke, is dead, and Norton succeeds. Who do you think succeeds him? his predecessor.1 The house of York is returned to the house of Lancaster: they could not keep their white roses pure. I have not a little suspicion that disappointment has contributed to this faux-pas. Sir Thomas made a new will the day before he died, and gave his vast fortune, not to Mr. Yorke, as was expected, but to Lord Macclesfield, to whom, it is come out, he was natural brother. Norton, besides the Rolls, which are for life, and near 3,000l. a-year, has a pension of 1,2007. Mrs. Anne Pitt, too, has got a third pension: so you see we are not quite such beggars as you imagined!

Prince William, you know, is Duke of Gloucester, with the same appanage as the Duke of York. Legrand is his Cadogan; Clinton and Ligonier his grooms.

3

Colonel Crawford is dead at Minorca, and Colonel Burton has his regiment; the Primate (Stone) is better, but I suppose, from his distemper, which is a dropsy in his breast, irrecoverable. Your Irish Queen 5 exceeds the English Queen, and follows her with seven footmen before her chairwell! what trumperies I tell you! but I cannot help it— Wilkes is outlawed, D'Eon run away, and Churchill dead— till some new genius arises, you must take up with operas, and pensions, and seven footmen.-But patience! your country is seldom sterile long.

Mr. Charles Yorke; but we shall see, in the next letter, that the fact on which all this imputation was built was false.-C.

2 Edward Legrand, Esq. treasurer to the Duke of Gloucester; as the Hon. C. S. Cadogan was to the Duke of York.-E.

3 Colonel Henry Clinton, afterwards commander-in-chief in America, and K.B.-E.

* Colonel Edward Ligonier, aid-de-camp to the King.—E. The Countess of Northumberland.-E.

George Selwyn has written hither his lamentations about that Cossack Princess. I am glad of it, for I did but hint it to my Lady Hervey, (though I give you my word, without quoting you, which I never do upon the most trifling occurrences,) and I was cut very short, and told it was impossible. A la bonne heure! Pray, who is Lord March1 going to marry? We hear so, but nobody named. I had not heard of your losses at whisk; but if I had, should not have been terrified: you know whisk gives no fatal ideas to anybody that has been at Arthur's and seen hazard, Quinze, and Trenteet-Quarante. I beg you will prevail on the King of France to let Monsieur de Richelieu give as many balls and fêtes as he pleases, if it is only for my diversion. This journey to Paris is the last colt's tooth I intend ever to cut, and I insist upon being prodigiously entertained, like a Sposa Monacha, whom they cram with this world for a twelvemonth, before she bids adieu to it for ever. I think, when I shut myself up in my convent here, it will not be with the same regret. I have for some time been glutted with the world, and regret the friends that drop away every day; those, at least, with whom I came into the world, already begin to make it appear a great void. Lord Edgecumbe, Lord Waldegrave, and the Duke of Devonshire leave a very perceptible chasm. At the Opera last night, I felt almost ashamed to be there. Except Lady Townshend, Lady Schaub, Lady Albemarle, and Lady Northumberland, I scarce saw a creature whose début there I could not remember: nay, the greater part were maccaronies. You see I am not likely, like my brother Cholmondeley (who, by the way, was there too), to totter into a solitaire at threescore. The Duke de Richelieu is one of the persons I am

2

1 James, third Earl of March, a lord of the bedchamber, who subsequently, in 1778, succeeded to the dukedom of Queensberry, and was the last of that title.-E.

2 The celebrated Mareschal Duc de Richelieu: he was born in 1696, and died in 1788. The whole of his long life was full of adventures so extraordinary as to justify Mr. Walpole's curiosity. The most remarkable, however, of all, had not at this period occurred. In the year 1780, and at the age of eighty-four, he married his third wife, and was severely afflicted that a miscarriage of the Duchess destroyed his hopes of another Cardinal de Richelieu; for to that eminence he destined the child of his

curious to see -oh! am I to find Madame de Boufflers, Princess of Conti? Your brother and Lady Aylesbury are to be in town the day after to-morrow to hear Manzoli, and on their way to Mrs. Cornwallis, who is acting l'agonisante; but that would be treason to Lady Aylesbury. I was at Parkplace last week: the bridge is finished, and a noble object.

I shall come to you as soon as ever I have my congé, which I trust will be early in February. I will let you know the moment I can fix my time, because I shall beg you to order a small lodging to be taken for me at no great distance from your palace, and only for a short time, because, if I should like France enough to stay some months, I can afterwards accommodate myself to my mind. I should like to be so near you that I could see you whenever it would not be inconvenient to you, and without being obliged to that intercourse with my countrymen, which I by no means design to cultivate. If I leave the best company here, it shall not be for the worst. I am getting out of the world, not coming into it, and shall therefore be most indifferent about their acquaintance, or what they think of my avoiding it. I come to see you and my Lady Hertford, to escape from politics, and to amuse myself with seeing, which I intend to do with all my eyes. I abhor show, am not passionately fond of literati, don't want to know people for a few months, and really think of nothing but some comfortable hours with you, and indulging my curiosity. Excuse almost a page about myself, but it was to tell you how little trouble I hope to give you.

TO THE EARL OF HERTFORD.

Arlington Street, Dec. 3, 1764.

I LOVE to contradict myself as fast as I can when I have told you a lie, lest you should take me for a chambermaid, or Charles Townshend. But how can I help it? Is this a

age. His biographer adds, that the Duchess was an affectionate and attentive wife, notwithstanding that her octogenarian husband tried her patience by reiterated infidelities.-C.

« PreviousContinue »