George Selwyn: His Letters and His Life Part 26

(256) Louis-Rene-Edouard, Prince de Rohan (1734-1803). In 1760, soon after taking orders, he was nominated coadjutor to his uncle, Constantin de Rohan, Archbishop of Strasburg and Bishop of Canopus; in 1761 elected member of the Academy; in 1772 amba.s.sador to Vienna on the question of the dismemberment of Poland; in 1777 made Grand Almoner of France; in 1778 Abbot of St. Vaast and cardinal; in 1779 succeeded his uncle as Archbishop of Strasburg, and became Abbot of Noirmoutiers and La Chaise. He led a gay, luxurious, and extravagant life rather than performed his clerical duties; he had political ambitions, but he was never able to overcome the predisposition against him with which Marie Antoinette had come to France. He was a dupe of Cagliostro, and of Mme. de Lamotte-Valois, the adventuress who, in 1782, drew him into the intrigue of the diamond necklace, for which he was sent to the Bastille, and which gave him the name of le cardinal Collier; he was acquitted in 1786, and in 1789 elected to the States-General; in 1791 he refused to take the oath to the Const.i.tution, and went to Ettenheim in the German part of his province, where he died on the 17th of February, 1803.

(257) The States-General did not open until May 5, 1789.

(258) The Convocation of the Notables took place the 19th of December.

(259) Armand Charles Emmanuel, Comte de Hautefort, was born in 1741; he bore the t.i.tle of Grand d'Espagne through his marriage in 1761 with the Comtesse de Hochenfels de Bavere Grand d'Espagne de la premiere cla.s.se.

Richmond of to-day, with its villas and streets, a town of houses occupied by professional and business men who spend their life in London, is unlike the gay and lively resort of the last days of the eighteenth century. Then the elite of the fashionable society of England gathered on the hill and by the river as people now do on the Riviera or in Cairo. "Richmond is in the first request this summer," so wrote Walpole in the very year at which we have now arrived. "Mrs. Bouverie is settled there with a large Court. The Sheridans are there too, and the Bunburys. I go once or twice a week to George Selwyn late in the evening when he comes in from walking; about as often to Mrs. Ellis here and to Lady Cecilia at Hampton."

Once in Richmond men and women stayed there walking, talking, and calling on each other, sometimes driving into London, but enjoying it as a residence, not as a mere resort for an evening's pleasure.

Selwyn communicated the news of Richmond to his country friends as one does in these days when at some German Spa. It may seem to us, to whom so many opportunities of enjoyment of all kinds and in all parts of the world are open, a tame kind of life to spend days and nights strolling about a London suburb, attending a.s.semblies, playing at cards, with now and then a visit to town or a row on the river. But our ancestors were necessarily limited in their pleasures, and to them Richmond was a G.o.d-send, especially to men like Selwyn, or Queensberry, or Walpole, who delighted in social intercourse, and liked to enjoy what they called rustic life with as much comfort as the age provided. Something of this life we have learned from Walpole's and Miss Berry's letters, but no truer picture of it can be found than in the last letters of Selwyn. To the ordinary habitues of Richmond, however, there were in 1789 and 1790 added a throng of French ladies and gentlemen. Driven from their agreeable salons in Paris, they endeavoured to make the best of life among their English friends at Richmond. Exiled among a people whose language few of them could understand, they' received little of the hospitality which had been so freely extended to English visitors in Paris. It was the last and a sad scene in that remarkable intercourse between the most cultivated people of England and France which is one characteristic of the society of both nations in the eighteenth century. This entente was destroyed by the French Revolution. Selwyn, who had figured in this international society more than most men of the age, lived to tell of its last days in the letters which he wrote during the two final years of his life.

(1789, Aug. 21?) Friday night, Richmond.--I did not come hither till to-day, because I was resolved to stay to see the Duke(260) set out, which he did this morning for Newmarket, from whence he goes with his doctor to York. He said that he should not go to Castle Howard, which I looked upon as certain as that the Princes will be there. It would have been in vain to have held out to him the temptation of seeing his G.o.ddaughter, and I know that, if I had suggested it, he would have laughed at me, which would have made me angry, who think Gertrude(261) an object worth going at least sixteen miles to see.

He was in very good spirits when he left London; and in extraordinary good humour with me. But he would not have me depend, he said, upon his going to Scotland, although he has, sent as many servants in different equipages as if he intended to stay there a twelvemonth. It was quite unnecessary to prepare me against any kind of irresolution of his. After all, I hope that he will go to Castle Howard. I believe it is just five and thirty years since we were there together, and all I know is, that I did not think then that I should ever see it so well furnished as I have since, and I will maintain that Gertrude is not the least pretty meuble that is there.

I was so unsettled while I was in London that I did not even send to make enquiries about your brother or Lady Southerland. I could not have made their party if I had been sure of their being in town. Sir R. and Lady Payne are at Lambeth. They propose coming to dine here in a few days.

I dined with Crowle and the younger Mr. Fawkner yesterday at the Duke's, and asked them many questions about poor Delme's affairs, and concerning Lady Betty. I hear that Lady Julia has been much affected with this accident. He had persuaded himself that he should die, although either Dr. Warren saw no immediate danger, or thought proper not to say so. The French, as I said before, have good reason to say that il n'est permis qu'aux medecins de mentir, and Delme certainly justified the deception, if there was any; but he had at last more fort.i.tude or resolution as I hear than was expected. I hope that Lady Betty will be reconciled to her change of life; there must have been one inevitably, and, perhaps, that not less disagreeable.

I am unhappy that I have not yet received any account of Caroline.

Mr. Woodhouse has returned my visit. I did not conceive it to be proper that Mie Mie should wait upon Mrs. Bacon till an opportunity had been offered of her being presented to her, but I shall be desirous of bringing about that acquaintance. Mrs. Webb is now with us, which is a piece of furniture here, not without its use, and which I am in a habit of seeing with more satisfaction than perhaps Mie Mie, who begins to think naturally a gouvernante to have a mauvais air. I am not quite of that opinion dans les circonstances actuelles.

No more news as yet from France. I expect to have a great deal of discourse on Tuesday with St. Foy, on the subject of this Revolution, which occupies my mind very much, although I have still a great deal of information to acquire. It may be peu de chose, but, as yet, I know no more than that the House of Bourbon, with the n.o.blesse francoise, their revenues and privileges, are in a manner annihilated by a coup de main, as it were, and after an existence of near a thousand years; and if you are now walking in the streets of Paris, ever so quietly, but suspected or marked as one who will not subscribe to this, you are immediately accroche a la Lanterne: tout cela m'est inconcevable. But we are I am sure at the beginning only of this Roman, instead of seeing the new Const.i.tution so quietly established by the first of September, as I have been confidently a.s.sured that it will be.

Preparations were certainly making here for her Majesty the Queen of France's(262) reception, and I am a.s.sured that if the King had not gone as he did to the Hotel de Ville, the Duke of Orleans(263) would immediately have been declared Regent. There seems some sort of fatality in the scheme of forming (sic) a Regent, who, in neither of the two kingdoms, is destine a ne pas arrive a bon part.

But one word more of Delme. I am told that if Lady Betty and Lady J(ulia) live together, they will not have less than two thousand a year to maintain their establishment, including what the Court of Chancery will allow for the guardianship of the children. That will be more comfortable at least than living in the constant dread of the consequences of a heedless dissipation.

It was conjectured that Lord C(arlisle) would bring Mr. Greenville in for Morpeth, which, if it be so, I shall be very glad to hear.

Crowle says that the cook is one of the best servants of the kind that can be, and would go to Lord C. if he wanted one, for sixty pounds a year, par preference to any other place with larger wages.

I was desired to mention this; it may be to no purpose.

The King, as I hear, is not expected to be at Windsor till Michaelmas. I received a letter to-day in such a hand as you never beheld, from Sir Sampson Gideon, now Sir S. Eardley, a name I never heard of before, to dine with him to-morrow at his house in Kent. I was to call at his house in Arlington Street, and there to be informed of the road, and to be three hours and a half in going it.

It was to meet Mr. Pitt, and to eat a turtle: quelle chere! The turtle I should have liked, but how Mr. Pitt is to be dressed I cannot tell. The temptation is great, I grant it, but I have had so much self-denial as to send my excuses. You will not believe it, perhaps, but a Minister, of any description, although served up in his great sh.e.l.l of power, and all his green fat about him, is to me a dish by no means relishing, and I never knew but one in my life I could pa.s.s an hour with pleasantly, which was Lord Holland. I am certain that if Lord C(arlisle) had been what he seemed to have had once an ambition for, I should not have endured him, although I might perhaps have supported his measures.

You desired me to write to you often. You see, dear Lady Carlisle, toute l'inclination que j'y porte, et que, vraisem(bla)blement, si vous souhaitez d'avoir de mes lettres, une certaine provision de telles fadaises ne vous manquera pas. But I must hear myself from Caroline, or nothing will satisfy me; as yet I have not her direction, and so bad is my memory now, that this morning I could not even be sure if Stackpoole Court was near Milford Haven, Liverpool, or Milbourn Port. I do not comprehend how I could confound these three places, or be so depaise in regard to the geography of this island.

(260) Of Queensberry.

(261) Third daughter of the Earl of Carlisle, married W. Sloane Stanley, Esq.

(262) Marie Antoinette.

(263) Louis Philippe Joseph, Duc d'Orleans (1747-1793). As the Duc de Chartres he pretended to the philosophical opinions of the eighteenth century, but followed the dissolute customs of the Regency. Marie Antoinette never attempted to overcome or conceal her aversion to him, which helped to divide the Court. On the death of his father in 1785 he came into the t.i.tle of the Duc d'Orleans.

Interpolating the King at the famous royal sitting of the 19th of November, 1787, which he attended as a member of the a.s.sembly of Notables, he was exiled to Villers Cotterets; in four months he returned and bought the good will of the journals by money and of the populace by buying up provisions and feeding them at public tables; he was nominated President of the National a.s.sembly but refused the post; he attempted to corrupt the French guards, and so serious were the charges brought against him that La Fayette demanded of the King that he should be sent from the country. He went accordingly to England on a fict.i.tious mission in October of 1789. He returned in eight months to be received with acclamation by the Jacobins, who were, however, themselves irritated at the coolness by which he voted for the death of his cousin, Louis XVI.

in 1792; he was present at the execution, which he beheld unmoved, driving from the scene in a carriage drawn by six horses to spend the night in revelry at Raincy, but the t.i.tle Egalite, which the Commune of Paris had authorised him to a.s.sume for himself and his descendants, did not save him from the same fate. The Convention ordered the arrest of all the members of the Bourbon family, and he was guillotined the 6th of November, 1793. The Duc de Chartres visited England in 1779 and was intimate with the Prince of Wales; on his return he introduced in France the English race meetings, jockeys, and dress. It was said that the Prince of Wales, on hearing of his conduct at the execution of the King, tore into pieces his portrait which he had left him.

(1789, Aug.) 27, Thursday noon, Richmond.--I have received yours this morning, and a very fine morning it is, and made still more agreeable to me by your letter, which I have seated myself under my great tree to thank you for. I have no doubt but every one who pa.s.ses by will perceive, if they turn their eyes this way, that I am occupied with something which pleases me extremely. It is a great part of my delight, and of Mie Mie's too, that we shall see you so soon. ... It would have been a great satisfaction to me to have been able to have accommodated Miss Gunning, and to have had her company with us at C(astle) H(oward). . . . I have had a letter from Lady Caroline.(264) I have directed my letters to her at Stackpole Court, Milford Haven. . . .

I received at the same time with hers a letter from Lord Carlisle, who, as he says, finds it necessary to Recommend Gregg, for the remainder of this Parliament, to the borough of Morpeth. I should have been glad that the return could have been of the same person, Whoever he may be, who is designed to represent it at the ensuing and general election. To be sure it seldom happens que l'on meurt in all respects fort a propos, and this death of poor Mr. Delme is, as much as it regards Lord Carlisle, an evident proof of it.

Sir R. Payne and Lady Payne and Sir C. Bunbury intend dining here to-morrow.

Mr. Saintefoy, with Storer, dined here yesterday, but informed me of nothing new concerning France. We talked the matter over very fully, and it was very satisfactory to me, what I learned from Mr.

Saintefoy upon the Revolution and the causes of it; and now I think the const.i.tution of that country, as it has happened in others, will be quite new modelled, and that the new adopted plan, after a time, will be so much established as that there will be, probably, no return, if ever, for ages, of the old Const.i.tution, unless produced by the chapter of accidents, to which all human things are liable.

I should have gone to town to-morrow to have taken leave of your brother, but this intended visit from Sir R. and Lady Payne will prevent me. I was not in the least aware that during the week of the York Races your Ladyship would be alone, and am therefore much vexed that Mie Mie and I are not at C(astle) H. at this moment. It was indeed what came into her head, and very properly; but the idea of running foul upon his R(oyal) H(ighness) (to use a sea term) was what prevented me from taking the measures which I should otherwise have taken. Lord C(arlisle) will leave C(astle) H., as I understand by his letter, on Sat.u.r.day sevennight. I hope then to be at C(astle) H. by the time that he goes.

I am glad, for George's sake, that Lord H(olland)(265) has been with you, but you could not be surprised to find, in one of that family, a disposition to loquacity. He is, I believe, a very good boy, and his tutor is, they say, a very sensible man; but he has a most hideous name, and if you do not know how to spell it, I, for my part, can with difficulty p.r.o.nounce it, the sound of it being so near something else.

(264) Lady Caroline Howard was married to John Campbell, after first Lord Cawdor, on July 28, 1789.

(265) Henry Richard Va.s.sall Fox, third Baron Holland (1773-1840).

The nephew of Charles Fox. He was imbued by his uncle with liberal opinions, which he upheld throughout his life. On the death of Fox in 1807 he became Lord Privy Seal in the Grenville Ministry. In 1830 he was Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster in the Reform Cabinet of Lord Grey. It was he and his wife, whom he married in 1797, who gave to Holland House a world-wide celebrity as a gathering place of eminent people. In Selwyn's lifetime he was only a youth.

(1789,) September 3, Thursday, Richmond.--I am vexed to find, by the letter which I have had the pleasure to receive to-day, that I am expected to be at C(astle) H(oward) on Sat.u.r.day, when I do not set out till Sunday, so that, as I told Lord C. in my last, which he should receive to-day, I shall not be there till Wednesday. I am dilatory and procrastinating in my nature, but am not apt to defer what, when done, will make me so happy as I shall be at C(astle) H., and should not have been so now, if I had been more early apprised of your wish to have our journey accelerated.

I am very glad that H.R.H. was pleased with C(astle) H(oward). I am sure, that if he had not been so, he would have been difficile a contenter. But yet, it is a doubt with me, if he and I are equally delighted with the same objects. It is not that I expect others to love and admire your children as I do. There is a great deal in the composition of that; but he might if he pleased have pleasures of the same nature, but he seems to have set so little value upon resources of that kind, that I am afraid we shall never see any of H.R.H.'s progeny, and that this country must live upon what is called the quick stock for some years to come. I wish that it had happened that he had dined at Castle H. to-day, and have celebrated Caroline's birthday, which Mie Mie and I shall do here in a less sumptuous manner.

I was yesterday morning at Mrs. Bacon's door, nay further, for the servant said that she was at home, and I was carried into the parlour, but there it ended; Mrs. B. was dressing, and I could not see her, I left word with the servant that I was going into the North, where in a little time I should see Mr. Campbell,(266) and to receive her commands relative to him was the object of my visit. I must now leave this place without having made any progress in her acquaintance, or in that of her niece. All this you will, I know, put to Caroline's account, and indeed you may, for the talk of her was the pleasure which I had promised myself by both these visits.

So Lord C., I find, sets out to-day for N(aworth), and would not go to Wentworth. I cannot wonder at his preference. That you went is compliment enough, in my opinion. I shall ask George, when I see him, if he had any hand in penning the Address to His R(oyal) H(ighness), or in the answer. I shall desire also to know of him, if I am to approve of it. All I know of the times is what I am informed of by the World, which perhaps, like other worlds, is full of lies.

It is equal to me; I am very little interested in it, at present; nay, if I was Argus, who by taking that t.i.tle would make us believe that he saw and knew more, I should be only more satiated, and see more of what I dislike.

The French politics, as they move me less, suit me better; but of these I begin to be tired, and shall for my amus.e.m.e.nt revert to more ancient times. The history of the Bourbons is become thread-bare, and their l.u.s.tre too is extinguished, as suddenly as that of a farthing candle. This Revolution is by no means unprecedented, but being transacted in our own times, and so near our own doors, strikes us the more forcibly.

To-morrow we shall go to town, and that, and the next day will be taken up in our preparatives. It was not so formerly; an expedition was fitted out at a much less expense, and in a shorter time. But a journey of above five hundred miles strikes us at present as a great undertaking. But after we shall have left Barnet, I know much of this will vanish, and I shall think of nothing but of my gate, and of all whom I shall see in a few days after. I will bring down the maps which you mention, and other things, if I knew which would be most acceptable to them, but as they will never tell me, I can but conjecture.

You do not say anything of the D(uke) of Y(ork); perhaps he was not well enough to be of all the parties. We have here, for our pride, and amus.e.m.e.nt, the third brother,(267) who drives about in his phaeton, with his companion, bespeaks plays, and seems to have taken Richmond under his immediate patronage. A report has been spread here that Mrs. F(itzherbert) has obtained leave to come and lodge at the next door. I hope that that will not be the case, for her own sake, as well as ours.

I thank William for his letter, although he tells me little more than that he is my affectionate W. Howard. He may be a.s.sured that he has from me at least an equal return. Of Gertrude he says nothing, and yet, I am confident, the P(rince) did not overlook her. My hearty love to them all, and to Lady Caroline if you write to her.

I read yesterday a little Latin poem upon a Mouse Trap, with which I was most highly delighted; wrote near a century ago, by a Mr.

Holdsworth. It has been much celebrated, but never fell into my hands before yesterday. There is a great eloge upon the Cambrians, but whether Mr. Campbell would be flattered with it I am not sure.

If I did not suppose it to be no more a curiosity than was the Blossom of the Chestnut Tree, with which I was so struck the beginning of the summer, I should bring it with me. There is a translation of it in English verse, that is little short of the original. Dear Lady Carlisle, adieu. I never know when to leave off when I am writing to you, nor how to express the affection and esteem with which I am ever yours.

(266) Afterwards married to Lady Caroline.

(267) William, Duke of Clarence.

(1789,) Oct. 22, Thursday, Matson.--We arrived here yesterday at four in the afternoon from Crome.(268) We left there a very fine day, which grew worse every hour, and before we got to the garden gate it was as bad and uncomfortable as possible. Mr. Bligh would have said unprofitable, and perhaps with truth, for I see no advantage in having come here, and shall be very glad to find no ill consequences from it. We found to receive us, Dr. Warner, who had been here almost a week, and another gentleman who was come to dine with me, and both of them so hoa.r.s.e that they could not be heard. I was by no means elated with finding myself where I am, and it was well that, upon getting out of my coach, I had the honour of your Ladyship's letter, which was some consolation to me. But I find by it, what I have a long while dreaded, that Car's going away would be attended with great uneasiness to you. . . . It is well that you can meet it with so much reason and fort.i.tude. I have, I know, the smallest portion of either that any man ever had.

This day has cleared up. I am as yet very well, and shall be very careful of myself, and I propose, as I told you, to set out from hence on Sunday sevennight, the first of the next month, and stay with George two days at Salt Hill. I am sure that I should not have the pleasure I have in meeting him, if there were not some intervals when I cannot see him, and I am convinced, that a life must (be) chequered to have it really a plaisant one. I am glad that he and W(illia)m were amused while they stayed in town. I expect to hear from them some account of it.