The Letters of Horace Walpole, Earl of Orford
-
Chapter 54 : You know I always thought the Tesi comique, pendant que 'ca devroit, 'etre tr
You know I always thought the Tesi comique, pendant que 'ca devroit, 'etre tragique. I am happy that my sovereign lady expressed my opinion so well-by the way, is De Sade still with you? Is he still in p.a.w.n by the proxy of his clothes? has the Princess as constant retirements to her bedchamber with the colique and Amenori? Oh! I was struck the other day with a resemblance of mine hostess at Brandon to old Sarah. You must know, the ladies of Norfolk universally wear periwigs, and affirm that it is the fas.h.i.+on at London. "lord! Mrs.
White, have you been ill, that you have shaved your head?"
Mrs. White, in all the days of my acquaintance with her, had a professed head of red hair: to-day, she had no hair at all before, and at a distance above her ears, I descried a smart brown bob, from beneath which had escaped some long strands of original scarlet--so like old Sarazin at two in the morning, when she has been losing at Pharoah, and clawed her wig aside, and her old trunk is shaded with the venerable white ivy of her own locks.
i agree with you, that it would be too troublesome to send me the things now the quarantine exists, except the gun-barrels for Lord Conway, the length of which I know nothing about, being, as you conceive, no sportsman. I must send you, with the Life of Theodore, a vast pamphlet (859) in defence of' the new administration, which makes the greatest noise. It is written, as supposed, by Dr. Pea.r.s.e,(860) of St. Martin's, whom Lord Bath lately made a dean; the matter furnished by him. There is a good deal of useful ]Knowledge of the famous change to be found in it, and much more impudence. Some parts are extremely fine; in particular, the answer to the Hanoverian pamphlets, where he has collected the flower of all that was said in defence of that measure.(861) Had you those pamphlets? I will make up a parcel: tell me what other books you would have: I will send you nothing else, for if I give you the least bauble, it puts you to infinite expense, which I can't forgive, and indeed will never bear again: you would ruin yourself, and there is nothing I wish so much as the contrary.
Here is a good Ode, written on the supposition of that new book being Lord Bath's; I believe by the same hand as those charming ones which I sent you last year: the author is not yet known.(862)
The Duke of Argyle is dead-a death of how little moment, and of how much it would have been a year or two ago.(863) It is provoking, if one must die, that one can't even die a propos!
How does your friend Dr. Cocchi? You never mention him: do only knaves and fools deserve to be spoken of? Adieu!
(858) The Princess of Campoflorido.
(859) Called " Faction Detected."
(860) Mr. Pea.r.s.e, afterwards Bishop of Bangor. He was not the author, but Lord Perceval, afterwards Earl of Egmont.
(861) Sir John Hawkins says, that Osborne the bookseller, held out to Dr. Johnson a strong temptation to answer this pamphlet; which he refused, being convinced that the charge contained in it was unanswerable.-E.
(862) The Ode by Sir Charles Hanbury Williams, beginning, "Your sheets I've perused."-D.
(863) "Leaving no male issue, Argyle was succeeded in his t.i.tles and estates by his brother, and of late his bitter enemy, the Earl of Islay. With all his faults and follies, Argyle was still brave, eloquent, and accomplished, a skilful officer, and a princely n.o.bleman."-lord Mahon, vol. iii. p.
271.
347 letter 122 To Sir Horace Mann.
Arlington Street, Oct. 12, 1743.
They had sent your letter of Sept. 24th to Houghton the very night I came to town. I did not receive it back till yesterday, and soon after another, with Mr. Chute's inclosed, for which I will thank him presently. But, my dear child, I can, like you, think Of nothing but your bitter father's letter.--! and that I should have contributed to it! how I detest myself!(864) My dearest Sir, you know all I ever said to him:(865) indeed, I never do see him, and I a.s.sure you that I would wors.h.i.+p him as the Indians do the Devil, for fear-he should hurt you: tempt you I find he will not. He is so avaricious, that I believe, if you asked for a fish, he would think it even extravagance to give you a stone: in these bad times, stones may come to be dear, and if he loses his place and his lawsuit, who knows but he may be reduced to turn paviour? Oh! the brute! and how shocking, that, for your sake, one can't literally wish to see him want bread! But how can you feel the least tenderness, when the wretch talks of his bad health, and of not denying himself comforts! It is weakness in you: whose health is worse, yours or his? or when did he ever deny himself a comfort to please any mortal? My dear child, what is it possible to do for you? is there any thing in my power? What would I not do for you? and, indeed, what ought I not, if I have done you any disservice? I don't think there is any danger of your father's losing his place,(866) for whoever succeeds Mr. Pelham is likely to be a friend to this house, and would not turn out one so connected with it.
I should be very glad to show my lord an account of those statues you mention: they are much wanted in his hall, where, except the Laoc.o.o.n, he has nothing but busts. For Gaburri's drawings, I am extremely pleased with what you propose to me.
I should be well content with two of each master. I can't well fix any price; but would not the rate of a sequin apiece be sufficient? to be sure he never gave any thing like that: when one buys the quant.i.ty you mention to me, I can't but think that full enough, one 'with another. At least, if I bought so many as two hundred, I would not venture to go beyond that.
I am not at all easy from what you tell me of the Spaniards. I have now no hopes but in the winter, and what it may produce.
I fear ours will be most ugly-the disgusts about Hanover swarm and increase every day. The King and Duke have left the army, which is marching to winter-quarters in Flanders, He will not be here by his birthday, but it will be kept when he comes.
The parliament meets the 22d of November. All is distraction!
no union in the Court: no certainty about the House of Commons: Lord Carteret making no friends, the King making enemies: Mr. Pelham in vain courting Pitt, etc. Pultney unresolved. How will it end? No joy but in the Jacobites. I know nothing more, so turn to Mr. Chute.
My dear Sir, how I am obliged to you for your poem! Patapan is so vain with it, that he will read nothing else; I only offered him a Martial to compare it with the original, and the little c.o.xcomb threw it into the fire, and told me, "He had never heard of a lapdog's reading Latin; that it was very well for house-dos and pointers that live in the country, and have several hours upon their hands: for my part," said he,
"I am so nice, who ever saw A Latin book on my sofa?
You'll find as soon a primer there Or recipes for pastry ware.
Why do ye think I ever read But Crebillon or Calpren'ede?
This very thing of Mr. Chute's Scarce with my taste and fancy suits, oh! had it but in French been writ, 'Twere the genteelest, sweetest bit!
One hates a vulgar English poet: I vow t' ye, I should blush to show it To women de ma connoissance, Did not that agr'eable stance.
Cher double entendre! furnish means Of making sweet Patapanins!"(867)
My dear Sir, your translation shall stand foremost in the Patapaniana: I hope in time to have poems upon him, and sayings of his own, enough to make a notable book. En attendant, I have sent you some pamphlets to amuse your solitude; for, do you see, tramontane as I am, and as much as I love Florence, and hate the country, while we make such a figure in the world, or at least such a noise in it, one must consider you other Florentines as country gentlemen. Tell our dear Miny that when he unfolds the enchanted carpet, which his brother the wise Galfridus sends him, he will find all the kingdoms of the earth portrayed in it. In short, as much history as was described on the ever-memorable and wonderful piece of silk which the puissant White Cat(868) inclosed in a nutsh.e.l.l, and presented to her paramour Prince. In short, in this carpet, which (filberts being out of season) I was reduced to pack up in a walnut, he will find the following immense library of political lore: Magazines for October, November, December; with an Appendix for the year 1741; all the Magazines for 1742, bound in one volume; and nine Magazines for 17'43. The Life of King Theodore, a certain fairy monarch; with the Adventures of this Prince and the fair Republic of Genoa. The miscellaneous thoughts of the fairy Hervey. 'The Question Stated. Case of the Hanover Troops; and the Vindication of the Case. Faction Detected. Congratulatory Letter to Lord Bath. The Mysterious Congress; and @our Old England Journals. Tell Mr. Mann, or Mr. Mann tell himself, that I would send him nothing but this enchanted carpet, which he can't pretend to return. I will accept nothing under enchantment. Adieu all ! Continue to love the two Patapans.
(864) Sir Horace Mann in a letter to Walpole, dated Sept.
24th, 1743, gives an account of his father's refusal to give him any money; and then quotes the following pa.s.sage from his father's letter-"He tells me he has been baited by you and your uncle on my account, which was very disagreeable, and believes he may charge it to me."-D.
(865) See ant'e, p.325. (letter 108)
(866) Mr. Robert Mann, father of Sir Horace Mann, had a place in Chelsea College, under the Paymaster of the Forces.
(867) Mr. Chute had sent Mr. Walpole the following imitation of an epigram of Martial:
"Issa est pa.s.sere nequior Catulli, Issa est pUrior osculo columbae."
Martial, Lib. i, Ep. 110.
"Pata is frolicksome and smart, As Geoffry once was-(Oh my heart!) He's purer than a turtle's kiss, And gentler than a little miss; A jewel for a lady's ear, And Mr. Walpole's pretty dear.
He laughs and cries with mirth or spleen; He does not speak, but thinks, 'tis plain.
One knows his little Guai's as well As if he'd little words to tell.
Coil'd in a heap, a plumy wreathe, He sleeps, you hardly hear him breathe.
Then he's so nice, who ever saw A drop that sullied his sofa?
His bended leg!-what's this but sense?- Points out his little exigence.
He looks and points, and whisks about, And says, pray, dear Sir, let me out.
Where shall we find a little wife, To be the comfort of his life, To frisk and skip, and furnish means Of making sweet Patapanins?
England, alas! can boast no she, Fit only for his cicisbee.
Must greedy Fate then have him all?- No; Wootton to our aid we'll call- The immortality's the same, Built on a shadow, or a name.
He shall have one by Wootton's means, The other Wootton for his pains."
(868) See the story of the White Cat in the fairy tales.
349 Letter 123 To Sir Horace Mann.
London, Nov. 17, 1743.
I would not write on Monday till I could tell you the King was come. He arrived at St. James's between five and six on Tuesday. We were in great fears of his coming through the city, after the treason that has been publis.h.i.+ng for these two months; but it is incredible how well his reception was beyond what it had ever been before: in short, you would have thought it had not been a week after the victory at Dettingen. They almost carried him into -the palace on their shoulders; and at night the whole town was illuminated and bonfired. He looks much better than he has for these five years, and is in great spirits. The Duke limps a little. The King's reception of the Prince, who was come to St. James's to wait for him, and who met him on the stairs with his two sisters and the privy councillors, was not so gracious-pas un mot-though the Princess was brought to bed the day before, and Prince George is ill of the small-pox. It is very Unpopular! You will possibly, by next week, hear great things: hitherto, all is silence, expectation, struggle, and ignorance. The birthday is kept on Tuesday, when the parliament was to have met; but that can't be yet.
Lord Holderness has brought home a Dutch bride:(869) I have not seen her. The Duke of Richmond had a letter yesterday from Lady Albemarle,(870) at Altona. She says the Prince of Denmark is not so tall as his bride, but. far from a bad figure: he is thin, and not ugly, except having too wide a mouth. When she returns, as I know her particularly, I will tell you more; for the present, I think I have very handsomely despatched the chapter of royalties. My lord comes to town the day after to-morrow.
The opera is begun, but is not so well as last year. The Rosa Maricini, who is second woman, and whom I suppose you have heard, is now old. In the room of Amorevoli, they have got a dreadful ba.s.s, who, the Duke of Montagu says he believes, was organist at Aschaffenburgh.
DO you remember a tall Mr. Vernon,(871) who travelled with Mr.
Cotton? He is going to be married to a sister of Lord Strafford.
I have exhausted my news, and you shall excuse my being short to-day. For the future, I shall overflow with preferments, alterations, and parliaments.
Your brother brought me yesterday two of yours together, of Oct. 22 and 27, and I find you still overwhelmed with Richcourt's folly and the Admiral's explanatory ignorance. It is unpleasant to have old Pucci (872) added to your embarra.s.sments.
Chevalier Ossorio (873) was with me the other morning, and we were talking over the Hanoverians, as every body does. I complimented him very sincerely on his master's great bravery and success: he answered very modestly and sensibly, that he was glad amidst all the clamours, that there had been no cavil to be found with the subsidy paid to his King. Prince Lobkowitz makes a great figure, and has all my wishes and blessings for having put Tuscany out of the question.
There is no end of my giving you trouble with packing me up cases: I shall pay the money to your brother. Adieu! Embrace the Chutes, who are heavenly good to you, and must have been of great use in all your illness and disputes.
(869) Her name was Mademoiselle Doublette, and she is called in the Peerages "the niece of M. Van Haaren, of the Province of Holland."-D.