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Title: Elizabeth Montagu, the queen of the bluestockings, Volumes 1
and 2
Her correspondence from 1720 to 1761

Author: Mrs. Montagu

Editor: Emily J. Climenson

Release date: April 18, 2023 [eBook #70593]

Language: English

Original publication: United Kingdom: John Murray, 1906

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/70593

Credits: Fay Dunn and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ELIZABETH
MONTAGU, THE QUEEN OF THE BLUESTOCKINGS, VOLUMES 1
AND 2 ***

ELIZABETH MONTAGU
THE QUEEN OF THE BLUE-STOCKINGS

HER CORRESPONDENCE FROM

1720 TO 1761

Transcribers’ Note
The cover image was created by the transcriber, and is placed in the public domain. It
is based on the original cover.
Volumes one and two of “Elizabeth Montagu” are also published separately at Project
Gutenberg.
This combination of the two volumes consists of: Volume I, Volume II, Index, and the
Robinson Pedigree
Please also see the note at the end of this book.

Volume I

C. F. Zincke. Pinx. Emery Walker Ph. Sc.

Mrs. Montagu
née Elizabeth Robinson
from a miniature in the possession of Miss Montagu

ELIZABETH MONTAGU
THE QUEEN OF THE
BLUE-STOCKINGS

HER CORRESPONDENCE FROM
1720 TO 1761

BY HER GREAT-GREAT-NIECE
EMILY J. CLIMENSON
AUTHORESS OF “HISTORY OF SHIPLAKE,”
“HISTORICAL GUIDE TO HENLEY-ON-THAMES,”
“PASSAGES FROM THE DIARIES OF MRS. P. LYBBE POWYS,” ETC., ETC.

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS

IN TWO VOLUMES—VOL. I

LONDON
JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET
1906

PRINTED BY
WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED
LONDON AND BECCLES

AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED
TO
MY COUSINS
MAGDALEN WELLESLEY
AND

E L I Z A B E T H M O N TA G U
BY
THE AUTHORESS

P R E FA C E .

From my early youth I heartily desired to know more of the life of my
great-great-aunt, Mrs. Elizabeth Montagu. Every scrap of information I
could pick up respecting her I accumulated; therefore when my cousins,
Mrs. Wellesley and her sister, Miss Montagu, in October, 1899, gave me the
whole of her manuscripts contained in 68 cases, holding from 100 to 150
letters in each, my joy was unbounded!
In 1810 my grandfather, the 4th Baron Rokeby (her nephew and adopted
son), published two volumes of her letters; these were followed by two
more volumes in 1813. To enable him to perform this pleasing task he asked
all her principal friends to return her letters to him, beginning with the
Dowager Marchioness of Bath,[1] daughter of the Duchess of Portland, who
gave him back the earliest letters to her mother, many carefully inserted in a
curious grey paper book by the duchess, who placed the date of reception
on each, and evidently valued them exceedingly. The Rev. Montagu
Pennington returned her letters to his aunt, Mrs. Elizabeth Carter, the
learned translator of Epictetus; Mrs. Freind those to her husband; and many
other people did the same. From General Pulteney, at Lord Bath’s death, she
had asked for and received her correspondence with Lord Bath, which she
carefully preserved. At the death of Lord Lyttelton, the executors, at her
request, returned her her letters; those to Gilbert West and other
correspondents were returned in the same manner. Meanwhile she kept all
letters of her special friends, as well as notabilities, so that one may deem
the collection quite unique, though doubtless many letters have disappeared,
notably those of Sir Joshua Reynolds, many of whose letters were destroyed
by an ignorant caretaker of Mrs. Montagu’s house, Denton Hall, near
Newcastle-on-Tyne. There are none of Horace Walpole’s, from whom she
must have received some; and those from several other celebrities she knew
well are missing.

[1] Née Elizabeth Cavendish, born 1735, died 1825, ætat 91.

Owing to the enormous quantity of letters undated, the sorting has been
terribly difficult, and I spent one entire winter in making up bundles and
labelling each year. My grandfather made a variety of mistakes as to the
dates of the letters. I hope I have atoned for some of his deficiencies,
though a few mistakes are probably inevitable. He nearly blinded himself
by working at night, and my grandmother[2] had constantly to copy the
letters in a large round hand to enable him to make them out. After my
grandmother’s death he discontinued arranging them, though they might
have been continued till 1800, the year of Mrs. Montagu’s death.

[2] Née Elizabeth Charlton.

In the present volumes only her early life is presented, interwoven with
portions of her most intimate friends’ letters to herself. Were the whole of
this vast correspondence printed, a large bookcase could be filled with the
volumes. In order to consult the varied tastes of the general reader, I have
endeavoured to pick out the most interesting portions of her letters, such as
relate to customs, fashions in dress, price of food, habits, but I have often
groaned in spirit at having to leave out much that was noble in sentiment, or
long comments upon contemporary books and events. If life should be
spared me, I hope to be able to continue my narrative, for, like the ring
produced by a stone thrown on the water, her circle of friends and
acquaintances increased yearly, and not only comprised her English friends
and every person of distinction in Great Britain, but also the most
distinguished foreigners of all nations, notably the French. It has been
asserted that Gilbert West was the first person to influence Mrs. Montagu on
religious points. That his amiable Christianity may have strengthened her
religious opinions I do not deny, but I hope it will be seen from this book
that from her earliest days, when at the height of her joie de vivre, the
religious sentiment was existent—a religion that prompted her ever to the
kindest actions to all classes, that had nothing bitter or narrow in it, no
dogmatism. Adored by men of all opinions, and liking their society, she was
the purest of the pure, as is amply proved by the letters of Lord Lyttelton,
Dr. Monsey, and others, but she was no prude with all this. Her worthy
husband adored her, and no wife could have been more devoted and
obedient than she was. His was a noble character, and doubtless influenced

her much for good. As a wife, a friend, a camarade in all things, grave or
gay, she was unequalled; as a housewife she was notable, beloved by her
servants, by the poor of her parish, and by her miners and their wives and
children. She planned feasts and dances and instituted schools for them, and
fed and clothed the destitute.
With Mr. Raikes[3] she was one of the first people to institute Sunday-
schools. She was as interested in Betty’s rheumatism as she was in the
conversation of a duke or a duchess; a discussion with bishops and Gilbert
West on religion, or with Emerson on mathematics, or Elizabeth Carter on
Epictetus, all came alike to her gifted nature. She danced with the gay, she
wept with the mourner; her sympathies never lay idle, even to the very end
of life; and in a century which has been deemed by many to be coarse,
uneducated, and irreligious, her sweet wholesome nature shone like a star,
and attracted all minor lights. Where in the twentieth century should we
find a coterie of men and women of the highest rank and influence in the
world, either from intellect or position, so content and devoted to each
other, so free from the petty jealousies and sarcasms of the present
fashionable society, so anxious for each other’s welfare, socially and
morally; so free from cant or prudery, so devoted to each other’s interest?

[3] Robert Raikes, born 1735, died 1811. The first Sunday-school instituted by
him in 1781.

A great and terrible break in this book was caused by the death of my
beloved husband in May, 1904, after a long, lingering illness. I doubt if I
should have taken courage to resume my pen if it had not been for my
friend Mr. A. M. Broadley, whose interest in my literary work and
affectionate solicitude for myself has been a kindly spur to goad me on to
action, so as to complete the present volumes. To him I tender my thanks
for past and present encouragement, as well as many other kindnesses.
EMILY J. CLIMENSON.

CONTENTS TO VOL. I.

PAGE
Preface vii
List of Illustrations xv

CHAPTER
I.

The Robinson, Sterne, and Morris families — Birth and
childhood of Elizabeth Montagu —
Correspondence with Duchess of Portland
(passim) — Dr. Middleton’s second wife
— “Fidget” — A summons — Tunbridge Wells —
Mrs. Pendarves — Lady Thanet — Miss Anstey
— Bevis Mount — The Wallingfords — A suit of
“cloathes” — Anne Donnellan 1–25

CHAPTER
II.

Correspondence with Duchess of Portland (passim) —
Sir Robert Austin — The goat story — The
Freinds — Country beaux — Thomas Robinson,
barrister — Lady Wallingford — Duke of
Portland’s letter — A coach adventure —
Influenza — Smallpox — Cottage life — Bath —
Lord Noel Somerset — Dowager Duchess of
Norfolk — Frost Fair on the Thames — The
plunge bath — “Long” Sir Thomas Robinson —
Lord Wallingford’s death — The menagerie at
Bullstrode — Lady Mary Wortley Montagu —
Princess Mary of Hesse — Monkey Island —
Lydia Botham — Mrs. Pendarves — Lord Oxford
— Admiral Vernon — Anne Donnellan —
Charlemagne — Dr. Young’s Night Thoughts —
Duchess of Kent — Mr. Achard 26–62

CHAPTER
III.

Hairdressing — Correspondence with Duchess of
Portland (passim) — Sarah Robinson attacked by
smallpox — Hayton Farm — A country squire —
Handel — Dr. Middleton — Laurence Sterne —
Duke of Portland’s letter — A brother’s tribute —
Carthagena — The Westminster election — A
South Sea lawsuit — Lord Oxford’s death —
Panacea of bleeding — A one-horse chaise — A
Windsor hatter — Lord Sandwich’s marriage —
Ducal baths — Domestic service — Cibber’s Life
— Peg Woffington — Dowager Duchess of
Marlborough — Revolution in Russia — New
Year’s Day — Lord George Bentinck — Northfleet
Fair — Sir R. Walpole — Duchess of Norfolk’s
masquerade — Sir Hans Sloane — A House of
Lords debate — The Opera — Garrick 63–107

CHAPTER
IV.

Love triumphs — Sir George Lyttelton — Edward
Montagu — Anne Donnellan’s advice —
Elizabeth’s engagement and marriage —
Correspondence with Duchess of Portland
— “Delia” Dashwood — Odd honeymoon
etiquette — Mr. Robinson’s letter — Dr.
Middleton’s letter — Cally Scott — Mrs. Freind
— Père Courayer — Works of Manor — The
Dales — Whig principles — Correspondence with
Edward Montagu — Hanoverian troops —
Handel’s Oratorios — Young’s Night Thoughts —
A country beau and roué — A bolus — The Lord
Chancellor — Dr. Sandys — A cook 108–140

CHAPTER
V.

Journey to London — The floods — A faithful steward
— The Rogers’ pedigree — A curious letter — Mr.
Montagu’s visit to Newcastle — Birth of “Punch”
— Inoculation — Baby clothes — Sandleford
Priory — A parson and his wife — Countess of
Granville — Correspondence with Duchess of
Portland — Courayer — Woman’s education —
Lord Orford’s letter to General Churchill —
Preparation for inoculation — Elizabeth’s letter to
her husband — Army discipline — Physicians’
fees — Pope’s grotto — A highwayman —
Dangers of a post-chaise — “Punch’s” chariot — A
Bath ball — “Mathematical inseration” —
Midgham — A footpad — The Ministry — Pope’s
Dunciad — Mrs. Pococke — Sugar tax — The
Pretender — Sir Septimus Robinson — “Hide”
Park — Gowns and fans — The wearing of
“Punch” — A wet-nurse — Aprons — Orange
trees — Lord Anson — Clothes and table-linen —
Stowe — Thoresby — Death of “Punch” — Loss
of an only child — Submission to God’s will —
Duchess of Marlborough’s death — A Raree Show
— Cattle disease — Mrs. Robinson’s illness 141–197

CHAPTER
VI.

Correspondence with the Duchess of Portland —
Donnington Castle — Tunbridge Wells — Dr.
Young and Colley Cibber — Buxton — Tonbridge
Castle — The 1745 rising in Scotland — George
Lewis Scott — National terrors — Wade’s army —
County meeting at York — The Northern gentry
— General Cope’s defeat at Preston Pans —
Sussex privateers — Tunbridge ware — Walnut
medicine — D. Stanley’s letter to Duke of
Montagu — Cattle murrain — Fears of invasion —
The Law regiment — Romney Marsh — A
footman — A brave gamekeeper 198–226

CHAPTER
VII.

Correspondence with Duchess of Portland — Death of
Mrs. Robinson — Lydia Botham — The Hill Street
house — “Such a Johnny” — Courayer — Mr.
Carter’s death — Denton estate — Elixir of vitriol
and tar-water — Dr. Shaw — Young Edward
Wortley Montagu — General election —
Huntingdon Election — Dr. Pococke — Mrs.
Theophilus Cibber — Courayer’s figure — A high
and dry residence — Lady Fane’s grottoes — In
search of an axletree — Winchester Cathedral —
Mount Bevis — The New Forest — Wilton House
— Savernake — Courayer’s letter — Matthew
Robinson, M.P. for Canterbury — Lyttelton’s
Monody — Thomas Robinson’s death — Coffee
House, Bath — Cambridge — Richardson’s
Clarissa — Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle — Spa —
The Hague — James Montagu’s death — Price of
tea 227–263

CHAPTER
VIII.

Ranelagh masquerade — Tunbridge Wells — Duke of
Montagu’s death — Coombe Bank — The feather
screen — Hinchinbrook — The Miss Gunnings —
Chinese room in Hill Street — A parson’s children
— Dowager Duchess of Chandos — Lord
Pembroke’s death — The earthquake — Death of
Dr. Middleton — Anniversary of Elizabeth’s
wedding day — Mrs. Boscawen — Gilbert West
— Barry and Garrick — Embroidered flounces
— “The cousinhood” — West family — Berenger
— Hildersham — Miss Maria Naylor — The
“Pollard Ashe” — Mrs. Percival’s death — Dr.
Shaw’s death — The Dauphin — Dr. Middleton’s
works — Anne Donnellan — Nathaniel Hooke 264–296

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
VOL. I.

Mrs. Montagu (née Elizabeth Robinson) Frontispiece
From a miniature by C. F. Zincke, in the possession of The Hon.
Elizabeth Montagu, Farnham Royal. (Photogravure.)
TO FACE PAGE
Mount Morris, near Hythe, Kent 8
From an old print, 1809.

Miss Morris, Grandmother of Mrs. Montagu 16
From a picture (artist unknown), in the possession of the Hon. Elizabeth
Montagu. (Photogravure.)

Mr. and Mrs. Matthew Robinson (Mrs. Montagu’s
Father and Mother) 32
From a picture by W. Hamilton, in the possession of The Hon. Elizabeth
Montagu, Farnham Royal. (Photogravure.)

W. Freind, D.D., Dean of Canterbury 64
From the picture by T. Worlidge.

William, Second Duke of Portland 76
From the picture by Thomas Hudson, in the possession of the Duke of
Portland. (Photogravure.)

Lady Mary Wortley Montagu 80
From a miniature (artist unknown), in the possession of Mrs. Climenson.
(Photogravure.)

Sir Thomas Robinson (1st Baron Rokeby) 100
From a picture (artist unknown), in the possession of The Hon. Elizabeth
Montagu, Farnham Royal. (Photogravure.)

Morris Robinson 144

From the picture by the Rev. M. W. Peters, R.A., in the possession of The
Hon. Elizabeth Montagu, Farnham Royal. (Photogravure.)

Sandleford Priory, near Newbury, Berkshire 152
From a photograph.

Denton Hall, Northumberland 160

Margaret Cavendish Harley, Duchess of Portland 192
From the picture by Thomas Hudson, in the possession of the Duke of
Portland. (Photogravure.)

Lady Lechmere (née Howard), Afterwards Lady
(Thomas) Robinson 208
From a picture (artist unknown), in the possession of The Hon. Elizabeth
Montagu, Farnham Royal. (Photogravure.)

Gilbert West 296
From an engraving by E. Smith, after W. Walker.

Robinson Pedigree In pocket at end of Vol.

E L I Z A B E T H M O N TA G U
THE QUEEN OF THE BLUE-STOCKINGS

CHAPTER I.
GIRLHOOD UP TO 1738, AND BEGINNING OF THE CORRESPONDENCE WITH THE

DUCHESS OF PORTLAND.

Before entering on the life of Elizabeth Robinson, THE ROBINSON
afterwards Mrs. Edward Montagu, the famous bas FAMILY

bleu, the focus, as she may be called, of all the
cleverest and most intellectual society of the last half of the eighteenth
century, a few words must be said of the family she sprang from. The
Robinsons are said to have been originally Robertsons, the name being
corrupted into Robinson. They are in many Peerages[4] said to descend from
the Robertsons of Struan, or Strowan, in Perthshire, who descended from
Duncan de Atholia, Earl of Athole, hence descendants of Duncan, King of
Scotland. My grandfather, the 4th Baron Rokeby, in an unfinished pedigree,
believed this, but there have been Robinsons bearing the same[5] coat-of-
arms in Yorkshire as early as the time of copyhold record in Edward III.’s
reign. However, they may have been related. Our narrative starts from
William, said to be younger son of the 7th Baron Robertson of Strowan,
who, being deprived of his portion of inheritance as younger son by the Earl
of Athole, fled into England, and settled at Kendal in Westmorland, in the
time of Henry VIII. He had three children, Ralph, Henry, and Ursula. Ralph
married Agnes Philip, by whom he had William, who succeeded to his
father’s estates at Kendal and Brignal, and who on June 7, 1610, bought the
estate of Rokeby in Yorkshire from Sir Thomas Rokeby, whose family had
been possessed of it before the Conquest. Rokeby continued to belong to
the Robinson family for 160 years, when “Long Sir Thomas Robinson” sold

it in 1769 to John B. Saurey Morritt, the friend of Sir Walter Scott. The
Robinsons finally assumed two lines (vide Pedigree), William, the eldest,
remaining master of Rokeby, and his posthumous brother, Leonard,
becoming the direct ancestor of our heroine. Leonard Robinson was a
merchant in London; he became Chamberlain of the City of London, and
was knighted on October 26, 1692. He married, first, Lucy Layton, of West
Layton, etc., by whom he had no issue. For his second wife he married
Deborah, daughter of Sir James Collet, Knight and Sheriff of London, by
whom he had six daughters, all of whom married and had issue, and one
son, Thomas, who married a widow, Elizabeth Light. She was daughter of
William Clarke, Esq., of Merivale Abbey, Warwickshire, and heiress of her
brother, William Clarke. By her first husband, Anthony Light, she had one
daughter, Lydia. By her second marriage with Thomas Robinson she had
three sons. Matthew, the eldest, alone concerns us as father of Mrs.
Montagu. The following table will show the connection between the
Robinson and Sterne families: the Rev. Laurence Sterne marrying their
cousin, Elizabeth Lumley:—
PEDIGREE OF THE
ROBINSONS AND
STERNES
{Skip transcribed table} {See image for table}
1st. 2nd.
Anthony Light = Elizabeth Clarke, daughter = Thomas Robinson, son of
1 daughter. ｜ of William Clarke, of ｜ Sir Leonard Robinson.
Merivale Abbey,
｜ ｜
Warwickshire; heiress to
｜ her brother, William ｜
｜ Clarke. ｜
｜ ｜
｜ ｜
｜ ｜
1st. Thomas = Lydia = 2nd. The Rev. Robert Matthew = Elizabeth Drake,
Kirke ｜ Lumley of Lumley Robinson. daughter of
of Cockridge, Castle, Rector of Councillor Robert
｜
co, Yorks. Bedale, Yorks, 1721– Drake, of the
Great Virtuoso. ｜ 1731. Drakes of Ash,
d. 1709 ｜ Devon.
｜
｜
｜ ｜

Lydia = Rev. Henry Botham, Vicar of Elizabeth = Rev. Laurence
Albury and Ealing. ｜ Sterne.
5 children.
｜
｜ ｜
Lydia died an infant. Lydia = A. de Medalle.
|
Son.

[4] Vide Debrett and Lodge’s Peerages; Collin’s Baronetage, 1741, vol. iv.; Burke,
“The New Peerage,” by W. Owen, 1785; and Longmate’s Peerage.
[5] Coat vert, a chevron between three bucks trippant. Mrs. Laurence Sterne and
her sister, Mrs. Botham, as will be seen in the letters, call Matthew Robinson and
his wife “Uncle” and “Aunt,” they being really their step-uncle and aunt. Thomas
Robinson died at the early age of thirty-three, in the year 1700.

1694
THE MORRIS
We now enter on the history of Matthew FAMILY
Robinson, the eldest surviving son of Thomas, and
his wife Elizabeth. He was born in 1694, therefore was only six years old
when his father died. At an early age he was entered at Trinity College,
Cambridge, and became a fellow-commoner. He was a person of great
intellectual parts, a conversationalist and wit, the life of the coffee-houses,
which then served, as clubs do nowadays, as a rendezvous for men of
fashion. His talent for painting was remarkable. His great nephew states,
“He acquired so great a proficiency as to excel most of the professional
artists of his day in landscape.” At the early age of eighteen, in 1712, he
married Elizabeth Drake, daughter of Councillor Robert Drake, of
Cambridge, descended from the Drakes of Ashe in Devonshire. Elizabeth’s
mother’s name was Sarah Morris. The Morris family had been seated in
Kent at East Horton since the reign of Elizabeth. Thomas Morris, father of
Sarah, built the mansion of Mount Morris, sometimes called Monk’s
Horton, near Hythe. He had one son, Thomas, who was drowned under
London Bridge on his return from Holland in 1697, ætat 23. His sister Sarah
had two children by Councillor Drake, Morris and Elizabeth. Their maternal
grandfather lived to 1717, when he devised his estates to his grandson,
Morris Drake, with the proviso of his assuming the extra name of Morris,

and failing of his issue with remainder to Elizabeth, his sister, then Mrs.
Matthew Robinson. Her mother, Mrs. Drake, having become a widow, had
remarried the celebrated Dr. Conyers Middleton, but had no children by
him. The following table will elucidate this:—
{Skip transcribed table} {See image for table}
Thomas Morris, Esq.,
of Mount Morris, alias Monk’s Horton,[6] Kent,
which he built; d. 1717.
｜
｜ ｜
Thomas, drowned under Sarah, d. Feb. 19, 1730–1. = 1st. Councillor Robert
London Bridge, 1697, ætat ｜ Drake,
23, returning from Holland. 2nd. (1710) Dr. Conyers
｜
Middleton, of Trinity
｜ College, Cambridge.
｜
｜ ｜
Morris Drake (Morris) took Elizabeth, m. 1713, d. = Matthew Robinson, of
name of Morris on becoming 1745, sister and heir of her Edgeley and of West
heir to his grandfather; died brother, Morris Drake Layton Hall, Yorks.
s.p. His property entailed on Morris. Inherited Coveney, Born at York, 1694;
his sister, Eliz. Robinson. Cambs., and Mount died October, 1778.
Morris, Kent.

[6] Monk’s Horton, or Up Horton, alienated by Heyman Rooke in the time of
Queen Anne to Thomas Morris, who entailed it to his daughter’s male issue.

1712
ELIZABETH
To return to the Robinsons, they settled at their ROBINSON
property of West Layton Hall, derived from Lucy
Layton, first wife of Sir Leonard Robinson, and Edgeley in Wensleydale for
the summer, and spent the winter in York; most country families at that
period repairing to London or their nearest county town for convenience
and society during the winter. To this young couple were born twelve
children, of whom seven sons and two daughters lived to grow up—
1. Matthew, born April 6, 1713; afterwards 2nd Baron Rokeby. Educated
at Trinity Hall, Cambridge; became a Fellow. Died November 30, 1800,
ætat 87.

2. Thomas, born 1714, died in 1746–7. Barrister-at-law.
3. Morris, born 1715, died 1777; of the Six Clerks’ Office.
4. Elizabeth, born at York, October 2, 1720, died August 25, 1800.
5. Robert, Captain, E.I.C.S. Died in China, 1756.
6. Sarah, born September 21, 1723, died 1795.
7. William, born 1726, died 1803.
8. John, of Trinity Hall, Cambridge.
9. Charles, born 1733, died 1807.
Elizabeth, the subject of this book, was about DR. CONYERS
seven years old when, by the death of her uncle, MIDDLETON

Morris Drake Morris, her mother inherited, as his
heir, the important property of East Horton, and Mount Morris in Kent. The
family then left Yorkshire for residence at Mount Morris. But before and
after their inheritance of the Kentish property much time was spent with the
Conyers Middletons both at Coveney, Cambridgeshire, a property Mrs.
Conyers Middleton had inherited from her first husband, Councillor Drake;
the advowson of the living being hers, she bestowed it on her second
husband, Dr. Conyers Middleton,[7] whom she had married in 1710; also at
Cambridge, where was their usual residence, and where several of the little
Robinsons were born in their grandmother’s house, as we learn from a letter
of Dr. Middleton’s. Elizabeth Robinson was naturally much with her
grandmother, with whom and Conyers Middleton she was a great favourite.
Her nephew and adopted son, in his volumes of her letters[8] that he
published in 1810, states—

“Her uncommon sensibility and acuteness of understanding, as well as
extraordinary beauty as a child, rendered her an object of great notice in the
University, and Dr. Middleton was in the habit of requiring from her an
account of the learned conversations at which, in his society, she was
frequently present; not admitting of the excuse of her tender age as a
disqualification, but insisting that although at the present time she could but
imperfectly understand their meaning, she would in future derive great
benefit from the habit of attention inculcated by this practice.”

[7] Conyers Middleton, D.D., born 1683, died 1750. Fellow of Trinity College,
Cambridge, etc., etc. Wrote the “Life of Cicero,” etc., etc.
[8] “The Letters of Mrs. Elizabeth Montagu,” by her nephew, Matthew Montagu,
afterwards 4th Baron Rokeby.

Her father was proud of her vivacious wit, and encouraged her gifts of
repartee which she possessed in as large a measure as himself.

“In her youth her beauty was most admired in the peculiar animation and
expression of her blue eyes, with high arched eyebrows, and in the contrast
of her brilliant complexion with her dark brown hair. She was of the middle
stature, and stooped a little, which gave an air of modesty to her
countenance, in which the features were otherwise so strongly marked as to
express an elevation of sentiment befitting the most exalted condition.”

1727–28

Her elder brothers, members of Cambridge University, were all
extremely literary, and became, early, distinguished scholars. We are told—

“Their emulation produced a corresponding zeal in their sisters, and a
diligence of application unusual in females of that time. Their domestic
circle was accustomed to struggle for the mastery in wit, or in superiority in
argument, and their mother, whose frame of mind partook rather of the
gentle sedateness of good sense than of the eccentricities of genius, was
denominated by them ‘the Speaker,’ from the frequent mediation by which
she moderated their eagerness for victory.”
MOUNT MORRIS —
In Harris’s “History of Kent,” published in 1719, LADY MARGARET
on p. 156, is a picture of Mount Morris, the home of CAVENDISH
the Robinsons, a large square house with a cupola HARLEY
surmounted by a ball and a weathercock, surrounded
by a number of walled gardens laid out in the formal Dutch manner, an
inner Topiary garden, leading to a steep flight of steps to the front door.
Whilst staying in Cambridgeshire, Elizabeth had several times visited at
Wimpole with her father and mother. Wimpole was the seat of Edward,[9]

second Earl of Oxford and Mortimer, who had married Henrietta
Cavendish, only daughter and heiress of John Holles, 1st Duke of
Newcastle-on-Tyne. She was a great heiress, and brought her husband
£500,000; she is said to have been a good but a very dull woman, very
proud, and a rigid worshipper of etiquette. In the “National Biography” she
is said to have “disliked most of the wits who surrounded her husband, and
hated Pope!”[10] The Earl spent enormous sums in collecting books,
manuscripts, pictures, medals, and articles of virtu, spending £400,000 of
his wife’s fortune. To him we are indebted for the Harleian manuscripts,
bought from his widow in 1753 for £10,000 by the nation, now in the
British Museum. With the Lady Margaret Cavendish Harley,[11] only child
of the Earl and Countess of Oxford, Elizabeth became on the most intimate
terms, and her first extant letter is addressed to her when she was only
eleven years old, and the Lady Margaret eighteen. So greatly did Lady
Margaret value Elizabeth’s letters, that for a series of years she preserved
them between the leaves of an old grey book which I possess. The first
letter is endorsed, “Received, February 24, 1731–2, at Wimpole.” It
commences—

“Madam,
“Your ladyship’s commands always give me a great deal of
pleasure, but more especially when you ordered me to do myself this
honour, without which I durst not have taken that liberty, for it would have
been as great impertinence in me to have attempted it as it is condescension
in your ladyship to order it.”

This alludes evidently to Lady Margaret having desired her to write to
her. It ends—

“My duty to my Lord and Lady Oxford, and service to Lord Dupplin,[12]
and my best respects to Miss Walton,[13] hope in a little while it may be
duty. I am in great hopes that when your ladyship sees any impertinent
people in London it will put you in mind of, Madam,
“Your ladyship’s most obliged, humble servant,
“Eliz. Robinson.”

[9] Lord Oxford sold Wimpole in 1740 to Lord Hardwick to pay off his debts.
[10] Pope was his bosom friend, Swift and Prior also; the latter died at Wimpole.
[11] Prior celebrated the Lady Margaret in the lines commencing “My noble,
lovely, little Peggy.”
[12] Afterwards 8th Earl of Kinnoul.
[13] Lady Margaret’s governess, about to be married.

MOUNT MORRIS.

1731–32

The formal terms in this letter were then considered essential, even when
addressing those of lower birth, all the more so to a person of Lady

Margaret’s rank. Viscount Dupplin, whose name frequently occurs in the
letters, was a cousin of Lady Margaret’s on her father’s side, his mother
being a daughter of Robert Harley, 1st Earl of Oxford. The two young
friends now kept up a lively correspondence, but as many of the letters have
been published by my grandfather in 1810, I shall for this early period of
her life give only a résumé of them, picking out such facts as point to the
manners of the time, or that strike one as of interest. From Mount Morris in
August, 1732, she writes—

“Since I came here I have been to Canterbury Races, at which there was
not much diversion, as only one horse ran for the King’s Plate.... We had an
assembly for three nights; the rooms are so small and low that they were
exceedingly hot.”

From this date one perceives that young ladies were allowed to appear in
public early, as Elizabeth was then not quite twelve years old!
1733
TUNBRIDGE
In October, 1733, she paid, in company of her WELLS
parents, her first visit to Tunbridge Wells, ever
afterwards such a favourite resort of hers. She says—

“It is so pleasant a place I don’t wonder the physicians prescribe it as a
cure for the spleen; a great part of the company, especially of the
gentlemen, are vapoured. When the wind is not in the east they are very
good company, but they are as afraid of an easterly wind as if it would bring
caterpillars upon our land as it did on the land of Egypt.... I am very sorry I
could not get you any verses at Tunbridge, of which, at the latter part of the
season, when the garrets grow cheap, that the poets come down, there is
commonly great plenty.”

Further on she says, “I thank your ladyship for the verses, and I wish I
had any to send you in return for them, but my poet is turned lawyer, and
has forsook the Muses for ‘Coke upon Littleton.’” This alludes to her
brother Tom, who was then studying law. The collecting of verses on every
sort of circumstance seems to have been as fashionable then as photograph,
autograph, or stamp-collecting, etc., are now.

In the next letter of November, 1733, she alludes “MRS.” PLACE
to Dr. Conyers Middleton, who, as stated before, had
married Mrs. Drake, Elizabeth’s grandmother, and who was now a widower
—

“I suppose you have heard Dr. Middleton has brought his Cousin
Place[14] to keep his house. He very gravely sent us word that his cousin
had come to spend the winter with him, and it was not impossible they
might agree for a longer time; so I fancy he has brought her with him to see
if she likes to play at quadrille, and sup on sack posset with the grave
doctors, whose company to one of her gay temper must be delightful. I
suspected his designs when he made so many complaints in London, that it
was so very difficult to find a maid who understood making jellies and sack
posset, which he and a certain doctor used to have for their suppers. He lost
one lady because she was deaf to him; but I believe that fortune, to make
amends to him, has blinded this. For though I don’t doubt he always takes
care to show her the side of his face which Mr. Doll says is younger by ten
years than the other, yet that is rather too old to be a match for twenty-five,
which I believe is the age of Mrs.[15] Place.”

[14] Mary, daughter of the Rev. Conyers Place, of Dorchester. She died April 26,
1745.
[15] It was the custom at this time to give spinster ladies the complimentary title
of “Mrs.”

The next letter she says—

“I have not heard from Dr. Middleton a great while. I suppose his
thoughts are taken up with business and his pretty cousin in the West. I
don’t know whether she has made a complete conquest of his heart.”

In May, 1733—

“Dr. Middleton now owns his marriage. I wish he finds the felicity of it
answers his resigning a £100 a year. I am glad, for the sake of any other

family, he has not got another rich widow; if he had, it would have been her
turn to resign.”

This alludes to the fact that on the learned doctor’s remarriage he had to
resign his fellowship.
Mr. Robinson, Elizabeth’s father, was not fond of MR. ROBINSON
the country, where his wife’s fine estate and his nine
children condemned him to reside the greater part of the year; and when we
consider how young a man he was, then only thirty-one, and his great love
of witty society, one cannot be surprised at his having attacks of the “hyp”
or “vapours,” as the terms for ennui were then. Elizabeth writes to Lady
Margaret from Mount Morris—

“Though I am tired of the country, to my great satisfaction I am not so
much so as my Pappa; he is a little vapoured, and last night, after two
hours’ silence, he broke out with a great exclamation against the country,
and concluded in saying that living in the country was sleeping with one’s
eyes open. If he sleeps all day, I am sure he dreams much of London. What
makes this place more dull is, my brothers are none of them here; two of
them went away about a fortnight ago, and ever since my Pappa has ordered
me to put a double quantity of saffron[16] in his tea.”

[16] Saffron, said to be good for heaviness of spirits.

1734

February 11, 1734, she writes—

“Dr. Middleton sends us word my Pappa’s acquaintance wonder he has
not the spleen, but they would cease their surprise if they knew he was so
much troubled with it that his physicians cannot prescribe him any cordial
strong enough to keep up his spirits. We think London would do it
effectually, and I believe he will have recourse to it.”

On July 11, 1734, Lady Margaret Cavendish THE DUCHESS OF
[17] PORTLAND
Harley married William, 2nd Duke of Portland.
There are no letters of Elizabeth’s in my possession on the occasion of her
friend’s marriage; they recommence October 20 in the same year.
Henceforward all the duchess’s letters were franked by the duke, and many
of Elizabeth’s, often unfortunately undated. At this period ladies prevailed
on such of their friends as were either Peers or members of Parliament, to
sign sheets of letter-paper with their names at the back, often of folio size,
which they used free of cost as they wanted them, wrapping their letters in
these outer sheets and sealing them. As a single letter from London to
Edinburgh cost 1s. 1½d., if double 2s. 3d., and if treble 3s. 4½d., the
smallest inclosure being treated as an additional sheet, to send letters
unfranked was a costly luxury. The practice of forging people’s names led
to such intolerable abuse of franking that an Act was passed in 1764 making
it compulsory for the whole address to be written by the person franking the
letter.

[17] William, 2nd Duke of Portland, born 1708, died 1762. Hearne, in his Diary,
says, “Is reported the handsomest man in England.”

In October, the same year, Elizabeth replies to a letter from the duchess
chiding her for not writing—

“Oct. 3, 1734.—I am surprised that my answer to your Grace’s letter has
never reached your hands. I sent it immediately to Canterbury by the
servant of a gentleman who dined here, and I suppose he forgot to put it in
the post. I am reconciled to the carelessness of the fellow, since it has
procured to me so particular a mark of your concern. If my letter were
sensible, what would be the mortification, that instead of having the honour
to kiss your Grace’s hands, it must lie confined in the footman’s pocket with
greasy gloves, rotten apples, a pack of dirty cards, and the only companion
of its sort, a tender epistle from his sweetheart, ‘tru tell deth.’ Perhaps by its
situation subject to be kicked by his master every morning, till at last, by ill-
usage and rude company, worn too thin for any other use, it may make its
exit in lighting a tobacco-pipe. I believe the fellow who lost my letter knew
very well how ready I should be to supply it with another.

“I am, Madam,
“Your Grace’s most obedient servant,
“Elizabeth Robinson.”
“FIDGET”
The duchess’s favourite name for Elizabeth was
“Fidget,” a name adopted by all the Bullstrode[18] circle. This was due to
her vivacity of mind and body. She was never really a strong person, but her
nervous energy enabled her frail body to perform feats that a more lethargic
person could not have accomplished. “Why should a table that stands still
require so many legs when I can fidget on two?” she would exclaim. The
duchess returns an answer on October 25, portions of which I copy—

“Dear Fidget,
“I assure you I am very angry at the fellow’s not taking care of
your letter, for they always give me infinite pleasure, and I esteem it as a
great loss. I am very sensible of the friendship you have for me, and hope
you never shall find any reason to the contrary. You have painted extremely
well the fate of your letter was not according to its deserts.... Pray do you
hear anything of Dr. Middleton and his fine wife?[19] I had a letter not long
ago wherein it was said she made the doctor very sensible she had a tongue,
and a very sharp one too, with the addition of a clear and distinct voice. If
you have any poetry, send it to me; you know it will be acceptable to her
who is
“Dear Fidget’s
“Very humble servant and admirer,
“M. Cavendish Portland.”

[18] The duchess always spelt Bullstrode with the double l, from the story of the
place, and I choose to do the same.
[19] On Dr. Middleton’s second wife.

In Elizabeth’s next letter, November 3, 1734, she DRAWING
regrets that her father, having recovered his spirits, LESSONS
had given up going to Bath as projected, and says—

“One common objection to the country, one sees no faces but those of
one’s own family, but my Pappa thinks he has found a remedy for that by
teaching me to draw; but then he husbands these faces in so cruel a manner
that he brings me sometimes a nose, sometimes an eye at a time: but on the
King’s birthday, as it was a festival, he brought me out a whole face with its
mouth wide open. Your Grace desired me to send you some verses; I have
not heard so much as a Rhyme lately, and I believe the Muses have all got
agues in this country, but I have enclosed you the following Summons
which we sent an old bachelor, who is very much our humble servant, and
would die but not dance for us; but being once in great necessity for
partners, we thought him better than an elbow chair, and compelled him to
come to this Summons, which pleased me extremely, as I believe it was the
first time he ever found the power of the fair sex.... I am so far from
Cambridge, and have no friend charitable enough to send me any scandal, I
have heard nothing of either of the doctors, but as to my dear grandmother,
[20]
I have before heard she was as famous as a free speaker as he is for a
free-thinker.[21]

[20] This is Elizabeth’s fun, as her own grandmother was dead, and the doctor
was her step-grandfather.
[21] Dr. Middleton held free-thinking views on the Old Testament.

A SUMMONS

“‘Summons.
“‘Kent, to J. B., Esqre.[22]
“‘Whereas complaint has been made to us Commissioners of Her
Majesties’ Balls, Hopps, Assemblies, &c., for the county aforesaid, that
several able and expert men, brought up and instructed in the art or mistery
of Dancing, have and daily do refuse, though often thereunto requested, to
be retained and exercised in the aforesaid Art or Mistery, to the occasion of
great scarcity of good dancers in these parts, and contrary to the Laws of
Gallantry and good manners, in that case made and provided: And whereas
we are likewise credibly informed that you J. B., Esqre., though educated in

the said Art by that celebrated Master, Lally, Senior, are one of the most
notorious offenders in this point, these are therefore in the name of the Fair
Sex, to require you, the said J. B., Esqre., personally to be and appear
before us, at our meeting this day at the sign of the “Golden Ball,” in the
parish of Horton, in the county aforesaid, between the hours of twelve and
one in the forenoon to answer to such matter as shall be objected against
you, concerning the aforesaid refusal and contempt of our jurisdiction and
authority, and to bring with you your dancing shoes, laced waistcoat and
white gloves. And hereby fail not under peril of our frowns, and being
henceforth deemed and accounted an Old Bachelor. Given under our hands
and seals this eighth day of October, 1734, to which we all set our hands.’”

[22] James Brockman, of Beachborough. The summons is still kept at
Beachborough.

The “Golden Ball” was the ball of the THE “GOLDEN
weathercock on the lantern cupola of the house at BALL”

Mount Morris. In the next letter, November 20, she
says—

“Out of my filial piety I would persuade my Pappa to set out for
London. I have been preaching to him all this day, that when Saul had the
spleen, David’s musick did him a great deal of good, and that I am satisfied
Farinelli[23] would do him as much service. He goes frequently shooting or
coursing, and fancies that will prevent its return, and to answer me with the
Scripture, says, Nimrod the mighty hunter never had the Hyp. Dr.
Middleton designed to bring his Dearee to London, but if she is so gay it
may be as prudent to keep her at Cambridge ... if it should enter her head
that the doctor is no greater than another, what a mortification it would be to
my good Grand-pappa; if he knows himself and her, I think he would agree
with Arnolfe in L’Ecole des Femmes[24]—

“‘Que c’est assez pour elle, a vous en bien parler,
De savoir prier Dieu, l’aimer, coudre, et filer.’”

[23] Carlo Brocchi, whose professional name was Farinelli, vocalist and pupil of
Porpora.
[24] A play of Molière’s.

Emery Walker Ph. Sc.

Miss Sarah Morris

Mr. Robinson, who drew and painted in a style worthy of a professional
artist, was anxious Elizabeth should become a proficient in the same art, but
she writes to the duchess—

“If you design to make any proficiency in that art, I would advise you
not to draw old men’s heads. It was the rueful head countenance of Socrates
or Seneca that first put me out of conceit of it; had my Pappa given me the
blooming faces of Adonis or Narcissus, I might have been a more apt
scholar; and when I told him I found those great beards difficult to draw, he
gave me St. John’s head in a charger, so to avoid the speculation of dismal
faces, which by my art I dismalized ten times more than they were before, I
threw away my pencil.”
1735
TUNBRIDGE
In October, 1735, the duchess’s first child was WELLS
born, Elizabeth, eventually wife of the 1st Marquis of
Bath. Elizabeth writes to congratulate her, and states she heard Dr. Mead
(then the great ladies’ doctor) pronounced it the finest child he ever saw.
Elizabeth had just returned from her first visit to Tunbridge Wells for her
health, suffering much from headaches and weak eyes. At this period the
Dowager Duchess of Portland died. The letters up to this date were
addressed to “To Her Grace, The junior Duchess of Portland.”
Elizabeth writes a description of her five weeks at LORD STANHOPE
Tunbridge Wells. After comments on an unhappy
marriage recently made, she says—

“You know some of our Grub Street wits compared marriage to a
country dance, which scheme I extremely approved, but when I read it, I
thought it should have been set to the tune of ‘Love for ever;’ but they say it
never did go to that tune, nor ever would. I danced twice a week all the time
I was at Tunbridge, and once extraordinary, for Lord Euston[25] came down
to see Lord Augustus Fitzroy,[26] and made a ball. Lord Euston danced with
the Duchess of Norfolk,[27] but her Grace went home early, and then Lord
Euston danced with Lady Delves. We all left off about one o’clock. The day
after I left the Wells, I went to the Races (Canterbury), which began on
Monday, and ended on Thursday.... Monday there was an Assembly,

Tuesday a Play, Wednesday an Assembly again, and Thursday another play,
and as soon as that was over, we had a ball where we had ten couple. I did
not go to bed after our private ball till six o’clock, and rose again before
nine.
“The person who was taken most notice of at Tunbridge as particular is a
young gentleman your Grace may be perhaps acquainted with, I mean Lord
Stanhope.[28] He is always making mathematical scratches in his pocket-
book, so that one half the people took him for a conjurer, and the other half
for a fool.”

[25] George, Earl of Euston, son of the 2nd Duke of Grafton.
[26] A brother of Lord Euston.
[27] Wife of Edward, 9th Duke of Norfolk.
[28] Philip, 2nd Earl Stanhope, born 1714.

In a letter of October 2 is the first mention of Mrs. Pendarves,[29]
afterwards Mrs. Delany. It runs—

“Your pleasures are always my satisfactions; I assure you I partake at
Mount Morris all the happiness you tell me you receive at Bullstrode. I am
sure Mrs. Pendarves cannot give you any pleasure in her conversation that
she is not repayed in enjoying yours. I am glad you have got so agreeable a
companion with you; it is a happiness you have not always enjoyed, though
deserved.”

[29] Née Mary Granville, widow of Mr. W. Pendarves, born 1700, died 1788.
Daughter of John Granville.

Mention is made of the duchess’s desire to obtain LADY THANET
beautiful shells, and Elizabeth desired her sailor
brother Robert, who had just returned from Italy, and was going in his ship
to the East Indies, to bring home what he can in shells and feathers of all
sorts—parrots, peacocks, etc.—for work the duchess was doing. This

feather work became a rage of both the duchess and Elizabeth, and was the
precursor of the celebrated feather hangings, immortalized by Cowper’s
verses in Elizabeth’s later years. A humorous description of Lady Thanet,
[30]
then the great lady of West Kent, an amusing character, and great-aunt
of the Duchess of Portland, is given in the same letter—

“Lord Thanet[31] said when he came to Kent this summer that Lord
Cowper[32] had brought his Countess[33] to affront all East Kent, and he had
brought his Countess to affront all West Kent. She was a little discomposed
one day at dinner and threw a pheasant and a couple of partridges off the
table in shoving them up to my Lord to cut up.”

[30] Mary, 4th daughter and coheiress of 2nd Marquis of Halifax.
[31] 7th Earl of Thanet.
[32] William, 2nd Earl Cowper.
[33] Henrietta, daughter of Earl Grantham.

1737

Early in 1737, the second daughter of the duchess’s was born—
Henrietta, afterwards Countess of Stamford and Warrington. Elizabeth
writes to congratulate her on the event. She and her family were very ill of
fever that summer, thirteen persons down with it in the house. The smallpox
raged at Canterbury, and Mrs. Robinson would not allow her daughters to
attend the races. In a letter of September mention is made of Dr. Conyers
Middleton’s disappointment at not obtaining the Mastership of the Charter
House, which he most desired. Another peep at Lady Thanet—

“Lady Thanet came into this part of the country ten days ago; her French
woman rode astride through the wilds of Kent, and the country people
having heard her Ladyship was something odd, took Mademoiselle for
Lady Thanet.”

The first letter extant between Elizabeth and Miss Anstey, sister of
Christopher Anstey, the author of the “New Bath Guide,”[34] may be placed

here, though undated, except “Mount Morris, near Hythe, July 15.” This
extract shows her vivacious nature—

[34] The “New Bath Guide” was not written till 1766. The Ansteys lived at
Brinckley near Cambridge.

“Yesterday I was overturned coming from a neighbour’s. We got no hurt
at all, but were forced to borrow a coach to bring us the rest of the way, our
own being quite disabled by the fall.... I always think one visits in the
country at the hazard of one’s bones, but fear is never so powerful with me,
as to make me stay at home, and the next thing to being retired, is to be
morose: contemplation is not made for a woman on the right side of thirty,
it suits prodigiously well with the gout or the rheumatism: rest and an elbow
chair are the comfort of age, but the pleasures of youth are of a more lively
sort. I have in winter gone eight miles to dance to the music of a blind
fiddler, and returned at two in the morning, mightily pleased that I had been
so well entertained. I am so fond of dancing that I cannot help fancying I
was at some time bit by a tarantula,[35] and never got well cured of it. I shall
this year lose my annual dancings at Canterbury Races, for my Papa has
made a resolution (I assure you without my advice) not to go to them.”

[35] It was believed that a tarantula’s bite was only to be cured by dancing.

In the next letter to the duchess, October 15, 1737 MERSHAM HATCH
— —
THE PLAY

“Lady Thanet made a ball at Hothfield a few days ago to which she did
our family the honour to invite them, and as we were obeying her
commands and got into the coach with our ball airs and our dancing shoes,
at five miles of our journey we met with a brook so swelled by the rain it
looked like a river, and the water, we were told, was up to the coach seat,
and as I had never heard of any balls in the Elysian Fields, and don’t so
much as know whether the ghosts of departed beaux wear pumps, I thought
it better to reserve ourselves for the Riddotto[36] than hazard drowning for

this ball, and so we turned back and went to Sir Wyndham Knatchbull’s,[37]
who were hindered by the same water; for my part I could think of nothing
but the ball, when any one asked me how I did I cry’d tit for tat, and when
they bid me sit down, I answered ‘Jack of the green.’ A few days after the
ball, Lady Thanet bespoke a play at a town eight miles from us, and
summoned us to it; two of my brothers, and my sister,[38] and your humble
servant went, and after the play the gentlemen invited all the women to a
supper at a tavern, where we staid till two o’clock in the morning, and then
all set out for their respective homes. Here I suppose you will think my
diversion ended, but I must tell your Grace it did not; for before I had gone
two miles, I had the pleasure of being overturned, at which I squalled for
joy; and to complete my felicity I was obliged to stand half an hour in the
most refreshing rain, and the coolest north breeze I ever felt; for the coach’s
braces breaking were the occasion of our overturn, and there was no
moving till they were mended. You may suppose we did not lose so
favourable an opportunity of catching cold; we all came croaking down to
breakfast the next morning, and said we had caught no cold, as one always
says when one has been scheming, but I think I have scarce recovered my
treble notes yet. We had seven coaches at the play; there was Lord
Winchilsea,[39] Lady Charlotte Finch,[40] Lady Betty Fielding,[40] Capt.
Fielding,[41] his lady, and the Miss Palmers.[42] Mr. Fielding and Miss
Molly Palmer caught such colds they sent for a physician the next day;
Lady Knatchbull and Miss Knatchbull have kept their beds ever since: poor
Lady Thanet was overturned as she went home, and caught a terrible
hoarseness, which was the better for the poor coachman, who by that means
escaped a sharp and shrill reproof; and indeed it is enough for any poor man
to lye under the terror of her frowns, with a look she can wound, with a
frown she can kill; I think I never saw so formidable a countenance. I think
Lord Thanet’s education of his son[43] is something particular; he
encourages him in swearing and singing nasty ballads with the servants: he
is a very fine boy, but prodigiously rude; he came down to breakfast the
other day when there was company, and his maid came with him, who,
instead of carrying a Dutch toy, or a little whirligig for his Lordship to play
with, was lugging a billet for his plaything. There was a fine supper at the
ball, 33 dishes all very neat. My elder brother got out of the coach and put
on a pair of boots, and rode on to the ball when we turned back.”

[36] An entertainment of music first and afterwards dancing.
[37] 5th Baronet. His place called Mersham Hatch.
[38] Sarah Robinson, three years younger than Elizabeth.
[39] Daniel, 7th Earl Winchilsea.
[40] Sisters of Lord Winchilsea.
[41] Father of Henry Fielding, the novelist.
[42] Daughters of Sir Thomas Palmer of Wingham, Kent. Miss Molly afterwards
2nd Lady Winchilsea.
[43] Sackville Tufton, 8th Earl of Thanet, born 1733.

November 21, the duchess writes to condole with LADY
Elizabeth on the loss of the ball, and mentions having WALLINGFORD
been staying with the Duke at Lady
Peterborough’s[44]—

“Bevis Mount[45] is the most delightful place I ever saw, the house bad
and tumbling down, but there is a summer-house in the garden, such a one!
From thence there is a prospect of the sea, the Isle of Wight, New Forest,
the town of Southampton, the garden laid out with an elegant taste, and in
short everything that is agreeable, but particularly the Mistress.... Lord and
Lady Wallingford are with us now; they are extremely agreeable. I fancy
you must have seen her in public places. She is extremely pretty, and in the
French dress.”

[44] Née Anastasia Robinson, wife of the 3rd Lord Peterborough.
[45] Bevis Mount, in Southampton.

Lady Wallingford was the daughter of John Law, the famous financier,
by his wife Katherine Knollys, third daughter of Charles Knollys, titular 3rd
Earl of Banbury. Mary Katherine Law married in 1732 her first cousin,
called Viscount Wallingford.
At this period, though undated, may be placed THE SUIT OF
Elizabeth’s request to her father for a handsome suit CLOATHES

of clothes. In a letter to her mother she thanks her “for your goodness in
giving me leave to stay, and making it convenient to answer the Duchess’s
and my wishes to stay during her confinement. When we came to town the
Duchess reckoned the end of April.” From Bullstrode, therefore, she
accompanied the duchess and her family to Whitehall, where in a portion of
the old palace was the Portlands’ town residence. Elizabeth was now in her
eighteenth year. In a letter to her father, too lengthy to insert entirely,
worded in the respectful way children addressed their parents then, with
“Sir” and “Madam,” and concluding with “your most dutiful daughter,” she
says—

“You know this year I am to be introduced by the Duchess to the best
company in the town, and when she lies in, am both to receive in form with
her all her visits as Lady Bell[46] used to do on that occasion, all the people
of quality of both sexes that are in London, and I must be in full dress, and
shall go about with her all the winter, therefore a suit of cloathes will be
necessary for me, the value of which I submit entirely to you. I shall never
so much want a handsome suit as upon this occasion of first appearing with
my Lady Duchess; but as the first consideration is to please you, I would by
no means urge this beyond your pleasure, by duty or inclination, I shall
always be content with what you order, and hope you will not be displeased
with my requests.”

[46] Lady Isabella Bentinck, sister of the duke.

To this appeal her father sent her £20, and she returns thanks thus:—

“Whitehall, Thursday.

“Sir,
“Wit is seldom accompanied with money, but your letter came to
me with so much of both, that I can neither send you thanks, nor an answer
worthy of your present epistle. You are very good to gratify my bosom
friend, vanity, which, though it does not abandon me in a plain gown, takes
greater delight in seeing me in a handsome one, and it has promised me that
I shall appear to advantage in my new suit of cloathes, both to myself and

other people.... The Duchess, with her advice, will help me to make the best
use of your generosity. I have been to the Mercer’s, but have not yet pitched
upon a silk.... Mr. Pope has wrote an epitaph upon himself, which is not by
far the best monument of his wit; it is a trifling thing, and seems wrote for
amusement. I would send it you if I could, but I have not got a copy of it; as
soon as I have I will convey it to Mount Morris, where I imagine you may
want amusements, and our roads are not smooth enough for Pegasus.”
ROBERT
This epitaph is probably the one commencing ROBINSON
“Under this marble, or under this sill, or under this
turf, or e’en what they will.” At the end of the letter she says of her sailor
brother—

“Now Robert is secure of his commission, his life is something
hazardous, but he holds danger in contempt, the golden fruit of gain is
always guarded by some dragon which courage or vigilance must conquer.”

He had just been made captain of the Bedford, a ship in the merchant
service. Evidently Mrs. Robinson wrote a letter of advice as to the
important choice of “cloathes.” The answer runs—

“Madam,
“I have obeyed your commands as to my cloathes, and have bought
a very handsome Du Cape within the twenty pounds; a little accident which
had happened to the silk in the Lomb made it a great deal cheaper, and, I
believe, will not be at all the worse when made up; the colour in some
places is a little damaged, but that will cut for the tail, and the rest is
perfectly good. It will last longer clean than a flowered silk, and I have
already had two since I have been in Mantuas:[47] I saw some of 25s. a yard
that I did not think so pretty. Pray, Madam, let my thanks be repeated to my
Pappa, to whose goodness I owe this suit of cloathes.... Pray send me by
Tom the figured Dimity that was left of my upper coat, for it is too narrow
and too short for my present hoop, which is of the first magnitude.”

[47] The expression then used for the period when young ladies were what we

call “out.”

At the end of this letter Anne Donnellan is ANNE
mentioned for the first time. She was a friend of Dean DONNELLAN
Swift’s, together with her sister, Mrs. Clayton, and
her brother, the Rev. Christopher Donnellan. Anne Donnellan’s pet name in
the Duchess of Portland’s circle was “Don,” as Mrs. Pendarves (afterwards
Mrs. Delany) was “Pen,” Miss Dashwood “Dash,”[48] and Lady Wallingford
“Wall.”

[48] The “Delia” of the poet Hammond.

CHAPTER II.
LIFE IN BATH, LONDON, AND AT BULLSTRODE, 1738–1740 BEGINNING OF

CORRESPONDENCE WITH MRS. DONNELLAN.

1738

On April 16, 1738, the Duchess of Portland’s son, William Henry,
afterwards 3rd Duke, was born, after which Elizabeth returned home with
her father. On June 30 the duchess wrote to apologize for a long silence—

“I should have answered dear Fidget’s letter before I left London, but
you are sensible what a hurry one lives in there, and particularly after being
confined some months from public diversions, how much one is engaged in
them, Operas, Park, Assemblies, Vaux Hall—which I believe you never had
the occasion of seeing. You must get your Papa to stay next year: it is really
insufferable going out of town at the most pleasant time of the year. I am
positive the easterly winds have much greater effect upon the spirits in the
country, than it is possible they should have in London. I dare say the chief
part of the year your Papa is in town he don’t know which way the wind is,
except when he goes into a Coffee House and meets with some poor
disbanded Officer who is quarrelling with the times and consequently with
the weather, because he is not a General in time of peace; or a
valetudinarian, that if a fly settled on his nose, would curse the Easterly
wind, and fancy it had sent it there; these are the only people that ever
thought of East wind in London.”

At the end of the letter the duchess says, “My amusements are all of the
Rural kind—Working, Spinning, Knotting, Drawing, Reading, Writing,
Walking, and picking Herbs to put into an Herbal.”
This little peep of her life is most characteristic, SIR ROBERT
though fond of the pleasures of high society AUSTIN

diversions, and the varieties of London, she took an
interest in all sorts of country and domestic pursuits, and excelled in them.
She turned in wood and ivory; she was familiar with every kind of

needlework; she made shell frames, adorned grottoes, designed feather
work, collected endless objects in the animal and vegetable kingdom; was a
hearty lover of animals and birds of all kinds. Her letters are lively and
affectionate, but not clever and witty as her friend Elizabeth Robinson’s.
She complains of her stupidity in letter-writing. Elizabeth had the witty
head, and the duchess the cunning hand, but both possessed that valuable
possession, warm hearts. To the duchess’s last letter Elizabeth replies—

“I arrived at Mount Morris rather more fond of society than solitude. I
thought it no very agreeable change of scene from Handel[49] and Cafferelli.
[50]
... Sir Francis Dashwood’s sister is going to be married to Sir Robert
Austin, a baronet of our county; if the size of his estate bore any proportion
to the bulk of his carcase, he would be one of the greatest matches in
England ... a lady may make her lover languish till he is the size she most
likes ... as it is the fashion for men to die for love, the only thing a woman
can do is to bring a man into a consumption; what triumph then must attend
the lady who reduces Sir Robert Austin ... to asses’ milk. Omphale made
Hercules spin, but greater glory awaits the lady who makes Sir Robert
Austin lean.... I told my Pappa how much he laid under your Grace’s
displeasure for hurrying out of town: but what is a fine lady’s anger, or the
loss of London, to five and forty? They are more afraid of an easterly wind
than a frown when at that age.”

[49] George Frederick Handel, born 1685, died 1759.
[50] Gaetano Majoriano Caffarelli, celebrated Italian singer, pupil of Porpora,
died 1783.

On December 17 Elizabeth writes to the duchess VARIOUS RECIPES
in answer to a string of queries the latter had sent her —
THE GOAT
—

“I must take the liberty to advise what is to be done, and to avoid
confusion will take them in the order of the letter. Item, for the wet-nurse[51]
after the chickenpox, that she may become new milch again, a handful of
Camomile flowers, a handful of Pennyroyal, boiled in white wine, and

sweetened with treacle, to be taken at going to rest. For my Lord Titchfield
who grows prodigiously, Daisy roots and milk. For the small foot and taper
ancle of my Lady Duchess, bruised and strained by a fall, a large shoe and
oil Opodeldock. For the horse whose Christian name I have forgotten,
Friar’s Balsam, and for the death of a dormouse take four of the fairest
Moral and Theological Virtues, with patience and fortitude, quantum
sufficit, and they will prevent immoderate grieving.... I heard a very
ridiculous story a few days ago: Mr. Page, brother to Sir Gregory, going to
visit Mr. Edward Walpole,[52] a tame goat which was in the street followed
him unperceived when he got out of the coach into the house. Mr. Walpole’s
servant, thinking the goat came out of Mr. Page’s coach, carried it into the
room to Mr. Walpole, who thought it a little odd Mr. Page should bring such
a visitor, as Mr. Page no less admired at his choice of so savoury a
companion; but civility, a great disguiser of sentiments, prevented their
declaring their opinions, and the goat, no respecter of persons or furniture,
began to rub himself against the frame of a chair which was carved and gilt,
and the chair, which was fit for a Christian, but unable to bear the shock of
a beast, fell almost to pieces. Mr. Walpole thought Mr. Page very indulgent
to his dear crony the goat, and wondering he took no notice of the damage,
said he fancied tame goats did a great deal of harm, to which the other said
he believed so too: after much free and easy behaviour of the goat, to the
great detriment of the furniture, they came to an explanation, and Mr. Goat
was turned downstairs with very little ceremony or good manners.... Dr.
Middleton has got two nieces whom he is to keep entirely, for his brother
left them quite destitute. They are very fine children, and my Grannam is
very fond of them. The doctor is soon to bring forth his ‘Cicero,’ everybody
says the production will do him credit. Lady Thanet has set an assembly on
foot about eight miles from hence, where we all meet at the full moon and
dance till 12 o’clock, and then take an agreeable journey home. Our
assembly in full glory has ten coaches at it; and Lady Thanet, to make up a
number, is pleased in her humility to call in all the parsons, apprentices,
tradesmen, apothecaries, and farmers, milliners, mantua-makers,
haberdashers of small wares, and chambermaids. It is the oddest mixture
you can imagine—here sails a reverent parson, there skips an airy
apprentice, here jumps a farmer, and then every one has an eye to their
trade; the milliner pulls you by the hand till she tears your glove; the
mantua-maker treads upon your petticoat till she unrips the seams; the

shoemaker makes you foot it till you wear out your shoes; the mercer dirties
your gown; the apothecary opens the window behind you to make you sick.
Most of our neighbours will be in town by the next moon, so we shall have
no more balls this winter. In town the ladies talk of their stars, but here, ‘If
weak women go astray, the moon is more in fault than they.’ Will o’ Whisp
never led the bewildered traveller over hedge or ditch as a moon does us
country folk; a squeaking fiddle is an occasion, and a moonlight night an
opportunity, to go ten miles in bad roads at any time. I must tell your Grace
that my Papa forgets twenty years and nine children, and dances as nimbly
as any of the Quorum, but is now and then mortified by hearing the ladies
cry, ‘Old Mr. Robinson hay sides, and turn your daughter:’ other ladies who
have a mind to appear young say, ‘Well, there is my poor Grandpapa; he
could no more dance so.’ Then comes an old bachelor of fifty and shakes
him by the hand, and cries, ‘Why you dance like us young fellows:’ another
more injudicious than the rest, says by way of compliment, ‘Who would
think you had six fine children taller than yourself? I protest if I did not
know you I should take you to be young.’ Then says the most antiquated
Virgin in the company, ‘Mr. Robinson wears mighty well; my mother says
he looks as well as ever she remembers him; he used often to come to the
house when I was a girl.’ You may suppose he has not the ‘hyp’ at these
balls; but indeed it is a distemper so well bred as never to come but when
people are at home and at leisure.”

[51] Wet-nurse of the Marquis of Titchfield.
[52] Son of Sir Robert and brother of Horace Walpole.

1739
WILLIAM AND
In April, 1739, Elizabeth’s cousin, Grace GRACE FREIND
[53]
Robinson, sister of “Long” Sir Thomas Robinson,
married the Rev. William Freind,[54] son of the Rev. Dr. Robert Freind,
Head Master of Westminster School. Soon after the marriage, Elizabeth,
who appears to have known Mr. Freind intimately before he married her
cousin, writes from “Leicester Street, near Leicester Fields,” to Mr. and
Mrs. Freind, “How rare meet now, such pairs in love and honour joyn’d,”

and addresses them as “my inestimable cousins.” She states that her family
return to Kent shortly, whilst she is going to the Duchess of Portland in
White Hall. Elizabeth writes to the duchess on July 1, 1739, having just
returned home from her visit—

“I have thought of nothing but the company I was in on Tuesday since I
left town, though a worshipful Justice with a new leathern belt, scarlet
waistcoat and plush breeches, has been endeavouring this whole afternoon
to put you out of my head. I have been forced to hear the most elegant
encomiums upon the country, and the most barbarous censures upon the
town. First his Worship talked of Larks and Nightingales, then enlarged
upon the sweetness of bean blossom, roses and honeysuckles, said the town
stunk of cabbages and limekilns, so that I found as to pleasures he was lead
by the nose.”

[53] Sir Thomas Robinson, eldest son of William Robinson, of Rokeby; made a
baronet in 1730. Called “Long” Sir Thomas to distinguish him from Sir Thomas
Robinson, afterwards 1st Baron Grantham.
[54] Succeeded his father as Rector of Whitney, Oxon, and afterwards Dean of
Canterbury.

Further on she says, the Canterbury Races were to COUNTRY BEAUX
be on July 18, and begs her Grace, if she knows any
dancing shoes which lye idle, to bid them trip to Canterbury, as there will
be many forsaken damsels—

“Our collection of men is very antique, they stand in my list thus: a man
of sense, a little rusty, a beau a good deal the worse for wearing, a coxcomb
extremely shattered, a pretty gentleman, very insipid, a baronet very
solemn, a squire very fat, a fop much affected, a barrister learned in ‘Coke
upon Lyttelton’ but knows nothing of ‘long ways for many as will,’ an heir-
apparent, very awkward; which of these will cast a favourable eye upon me
I don’t know.”
THOMAS
She was destined not to go after all, for she writes ROBINSON —
—

A BONE-SETTER
“Mount Morris, July 18, 1739.

“Madam,
“The great art of life is to turn our misfortunes to our advantage,
and to make even disappointments instrumental to our pleasures. To follow
which rule I have taken the day which I should have gone to the Races to
write to your Grace. About ten days ago my Papa took an hypochondriacal
resolution not to go to the Races, for the Vapours and Love are two things
that seek solitude, but for me, who have neither in my constitution, a crowd
is not disagreeable, and I always find myself prompted by a natural
benevolence and love of Society to go where two or three are gathered
together.... The theory of dancing is extreamly odd, tho’ the practice is
agreeable; who could by force of reasoning find out the satisfaction of
casting off right hand and left, and the Hayes; we often laugh at a kitten
turning round in pursuit of its tail, when the creature is really turning single.
I shall have an account of the Races from my brother Robinson, who is
there; as for the Barrister,[55] he came down to the Sessions, and when he
had sold all his Law, packed up his saleable eloquence and carried it back to
Lincoln’s Inn, there to be left till called for. Would you think a person so
near akin to me as a brother could run away from a ball? I hear some
Canterbury girls who could aspire no higher than a younger brother, are
very angry, and say they shall never put their cause into his hands, as he
seems so little willing to defend it.... Next year we must certainly go to the
Races for the good of the county, and dance out of the spirit of Patriotism.
The Election year always brings company to Canterbury upon this occasion,
and as for me I will dance to either a Whig or a Tory tune, as it may be, for
in any wise I will dance. I am not like the dancing Monkies who will only
cut their capers for King George, I will dance for any man or Monarch in
Christendom, nay were it even a Mahometan or idolatrous King; I should
not make much scruple about it. I had the misfortune to be overturned the
other day coming from Sir Wyndham Knatchbull’s,[56] the occasion of it
was one of our wheels coming off. I assure you I but just avoided the
indecency of being topsy turvey, my head was so much lower than its usual
situation, as put my ideas much out of place, and I think my head has been
in a perfect litter ever since.... I shall begin to think from my frequent
overturns a bone-setter a necessary part of equipage for country visiting. I
am sure those who visit much, love their neighbours better than themselves;

perhaps you will be as apt to suspect me as anybody of that extream of
charity, but I am so tender of myself there are few I would hazard even a
gristle or a sinew, but civility is a debt that must be paid. I hope in all
accidents I shall preserve a finger and thumb, to write myself
“Your Grace’s most obedient and obliged
“Humble servant,
“E. Robinson.
“My humble service to the Duke.”

[55] Her brother Thomas.
[56] At Mersham Hatch.

Hamilton, Pinx. Emery Walker Ph. Sc.

Mr. & Mrs. Matthew Robinson

The duchess was now expecting her confinement, DUKE OF
and Lady Wallingford, who was staying with her, PORTLAND
corresponded with Elizabeth in French. Owing to the
residence of her father in France as Superintendent of Finances, she was
more French than English. Her letters are well written and expressed,
though the spelling is peculiar. At a later date she writes to Elizabeth in
broken English, and she scolds her for making her correspond in English
instead of French. Horace Walpole, in a letter to the Earl of Buchan, states
that Lady Wallingford was the image of her father, and that her mother,
Lady Katherine Law, lived during her husband’s power in France in great
state. On July 26, 1739, another daughter, Lady Margaret, was born to the
duchess. Dr. Sandys was, as usual, the accoucheur, but it makes one
horrified in these days to think Dr. Sandys bled the duchess for a feverish
cold on the Monday and Thursday after her child was born. Truly under this
San Grado treatment it was then the “survival of the fittest”! The duke now
wrote a bulletin of his wife to Elizabeth—

“Whitehall, August 9, 1739.

“Madam,
“Tho’ J have not been overturned you’ll imagine by the scrawl you
receive yt both my thumb and forefinger have been dislocated; J own j can’t
agree with you in yt for j flatter myself j have the use of them, but if you
please j’ll agree with you that they never were in joint, for which reason j
am not so sensible of ye loss of jointed fingers, as you might be had yours
been broke by the overturn of your coach, which accident j hope may never
happen to you. The Dss. is as well as can be expected tho’ a little weak, and
is extremely obliged to you for your letter, and also begged j would hint yt
tho’ she can’t wright letters she can read them, j need not explain my
meaning to you. She desires her kind service to Fidgett; and should be glad
if you would make her compliments acceptable to your Mama, etc.
“j am with the uttmost respect, Madam,
“Your most obedient, humble servant,
“Portland.”

The duke’s writing is very characteristic, but certainly rather disjointed
looking, and his I’s always written as long j’s.

Elizabeth had just had another coach adventure. The coachman who
drove her father and mother and her brother Matthew home after dining at a
neighbour’s, was drunk, which they did not perceive till he lashed the four
horses into a furious gallop. In vain Mr. Robinson called to him, and swore
at him; Matthew and Mrs. Robinson intreated; he persisted in lashing the
horses till he fell off the box, and two wheels ran over him, but as Elizabeth
states, “being preserved in beer, took very little harm; both footmen were
drunk, so took very little care about us.”
In a letter to the duchess (August 15) we find Elizabeth and her sister
Sarah banished from home to Canterbury on account of a woman and three
children who lived in a farmhouse near the gate of Mount Morris having the
smallpox. That fell disease ever inspired Elizabeth with great dread. Later
in life at three different times she was inoculated,[57] each time
unsuccessfully, for this disease, then a universal scourge. I should like the
foolish fathers and mothers of the present day who petition for non-
vaccination to read the accounts given in letters I possess of the unbridled
ravages then made by smallpox, and to consider that a usually temporary
inconvenience to the child’s health is a very trifling infliction compared
with a loathsome disease, which many people fled from nursing, and which
even if it did not kill the sufferers, probably disfigured them for life. The
sisters first stayed with Mrs. Scott,[58] and then with Mrs. Tennison, “wife
to a prebend in this church; there is very little company here, except Deans,
Prebends and Minor Canons, etc., etc.; nothing but messages and visits
from Prebends, Deacons, and the Church militant upon earth.” Later on,
speaking of her brother Matthew’s refusal to leave home on account of the
smallpox, she says, “I have seven brothers, and would not part with one for
a kingdom; and if I had but one, I should be distracted about him; sure
nobody has so many or so good brothers.”

[57] Lady Mary Wortley Montagu introduced inoculation into England in 1721.
[58] Of Scott’s Hall.

Meanwhile the duchess had a return of fever, and INFLUENZA —
was for some days in great danger. On August 28 THE SMALLPOX
Lady Wallingford writes to say she was out of danger.

Influenza was rife then, and Lady Wallingford states that she had not a
single lackey fit to attend her from her house to Whitehall, but had walked
there by herself, though still suffering from its effects. It was not then called
influenza, but from the description must have been that disease. Eight out of
the nine in the farm at Mount Morris caught the smallpox, and the duke,
writing to Elizabeth on September 15, a bulletin about his wife, adds—

“Both she and j[59] join in entreating you not to venture yourself, and
that pretty face of yours, to come within the walls of your paternal mansion,
and were j in your situation, nothing but absolute commands should make
me venture myself.”

[59] The “j” for “I,” characteristic of the duke’s writing.

After her visit to Canterbury, Elizabeth spent a month at Mersham Hatch
with the Knatchbulls. She now became seriously indisposed; her health was
always frail, and she appears to have suffered much from headaches at this
period. In a letter to the duchess she complains—

“I have swallowed the weight of an Apothecary in medicine, and what I
am the better for it, except more patient, and less credulous, I know not. I
have learnt to bear my infirmities and not to trust to the skill of Physicians
for curing them. I endeavour to drink deeply of Philosophy, and to be wise
when I cannot be merry, easy when I cannot be glad, content with what
cannot be mended, and patient where there be no redress. The mighty can
do no more, and the wise seldom do as much.”

On October 10 she announces that she and her mother, who had been
extremely unwell too, had been advised to drink the Bath waters, and were
to be accompanied there by her father. She hopes to see the duchess on her
way to Bath, but bids her tell her porter to admit her, as she has grown so
thin—

“he will think it is my ghost and shut the door. I shall stay but a few days in
town and then proceed with my Father and Mother, to the waters of life and

recovery. My Pappa’s chimney ‘hyp’ will never venture to attack him in a
public place; it is the sweet companion of solitude and the off-spring of
meditation, the disease of an idle imagination, not the child of hurry and
diversion. I am afraid that with the gaiety of the place, and the spirits the
waters give, I shall be perfect Sal-Volatile, and open my mouth and
evaporate.... I was a month at Hatch, where the good humour of the family
makes everything agreeable; we had great variety in the house—children in
cradles, and old women in elbow chairs. I think the family may be looked
upon as the three tenses, the present, past and future.”
COTTAGE LIFE
On a fresh scare being caused by the illness of her
maid, which the old women of the parish pronounced to be smallpox, Mrs.
Robinson sent Elizabeth and Sarah to the cottage of the carpenter hard by
without delay, though so late that Elizabeth writes—

“I arrived at my new lodging but the moment before it was time to go to
bed, where I slept pretty well, notwithstanding the goodman and his wife
snored, the little child cryed, the maid screamed, one little boy had
whooping cough, another roared with chilblains. The furniture of our
chamber is extraordinary, the ornamental parts as follows:—on the
mantelpiece four stone tea-cups, four wineglasses, two broken, two leaden
cherubims, a piece of looking-glass, with a ‘beggerly account of empty
bottles,’ as Shakespeare calls it, a print of King Charles the Martyr, the
woeful ballad of the children in the wood, a pious copy of verses entitled
‘the believer’s gold chain, or good councell for all men,’ with a resplendent
brass warming pan, in which my sister is dressing her head to the
disadvantage of her complexion, and not much to the rectitude of her head-
dress.”

The alarm proved to be false as to the nature of the maid’s illness, and
they returned the next day to the paternal mansion.
On November 12 Elizabeth writes from Bath to EDMUND CURLL
her sister a long and indignant letter upon some
poems brought out in the name of Prior. She says—

“I got at last this morning the poems just published under Prior’s[60]
name, brought them home under my arm, locked my door, sat me down by
my fireside, and opened the book with great expectation, but to my
disappointment found it to be the most wretched trumpery that you can
conceive, the production of the meanest of Curl’s[61] band of scribblers.”

[60] Matthew Prior, born 1664, died 1721.
[61] Edmund Curll, born 1675, died 1747; publisher, etc., ridiculed by Pope in the
“Dunciad.”

She continues to inveigh against this forgery in eloquent terms, and
towards the end of the letter remarks “that mankind can’t support above two
dead languages at a time, so as to have any tolerable knowledge or use of
them, therefore in all probability Shakespeare, Milton, Dryden, Prior, and
Pope are but short-lived, in comparison of those Methuselahs the
Classicks.”
The first letter to the duchess from Bath is dated— BATH —
GRACE FREIND
“December 15, Friday, Bath.

“Madam,
“After four days’ journey in very bad roads, I arrived here a good
deal tired: if Scarron[62] had not been very facetious, my countenance had
not received the impression of a smile since I left Whitehall till my arrival
at Bath. I read most of the way, but was sometimes taken off ‘Le petit
Ragotin’s’ disasters to fear those that might happen to la petite Fidget.[63]...
morning after I arrived, I went to the Ladies’ Coffee House, where I heard
of nothing but the rheumatism in the shoulder, the sciatica in the hip, and
the gout in the toe. After these complaints I began to fancy myself in the
Hospitals or Infirmaries; I never saw such an assembly of disorders. I dare
say Gay[64] wrote his fable of the ‘Court of Death’ from this place. After
drinking the waters I go to breakfast, and about 12 I drink another glass of
water, and then dress for dinner; visits employ the afternoon, and we
saunter away the evening in great stupidity. I think no place can be less

agreeable. ‘How d’ye do?’ is all one hears in the morning, and ‘What’s
trumps?’ in the afternoon. Lady Berkshire[65] did us the honour of a visit on
Wednesday, and inquired much about your health. Lord Berkshire[66] is
literally speaking laid by the leg, which the gout has usurped, for it has ever
been a distemper of very great quality, and runs in the blood of the
Howards. Mr. Howard and Mr. Tom Howard,[67] Lord Berkshire’s youngest
son, are here, as are Mrs. Greville and her daughter; Lady Hereford,[68]
Lady F. Shirley,[69] Lady Anne Furnese,[70] Lady Anne Finch,[71] Lady
Widdrington, Miss Windsors, Miss Gage, and I should first have said the
Dowager Duchess of Norfolk,[72] and Mrs. Howard, wife of Brigadier-
General Howard; as for the men, except Lord Noel Somerset, they are
altogether abominable; however, such as they are, I must dress for the ball,
and I will add a supplement to-morrow.
“P.S.—Madam, you know the Spectator says a woman never speaks her
mind but in the postscript! Last night produced nothing but some bad
dancing, except Mr. Southwell,[73] who was overwhelmed with
congratulatory compliments; in one day he was chose Member, made Father
to a little daughter, and got a £500 prize in the lottery; he seemed in good
spirits, and bowed popularly low to all his acquaintance.... I believe there is
a great circulation of company, for the bells are always ringing for
somebody to come, or tolling for somebody gone. There are many people I
have known and seen before, but very few whom I care to see again. One
person whom I like extremely, loves her husband so much better than me,
that I cannot persuade her to come out. I believe your Grace has often heard
me speak of Mrs. Freind,[74] who is not at all like Sir Tommy her brother.
What makes me like her still better is her contempt of Matadors.[75] I do not
think she ever dreamt of Spadille in her life, tho’ most people here prefer its
company to their best friends.”

[62] Paul Scarron, born 1610, died 1660; French satirist. Husband of
Mademoiselle D’Aubigné, afterwards Madame de Maintenon; wrote “Le Roman
Comique,” etc.
[63] Her pet-name.
[64] John Gay, born 1685, died 1732; poet, etc.
[65] Catherine, daughter of J. Grahame, of Levens, Westmorland.

[66] 4th Earl of Berkshire.
[67] Afterwards 6th Earl of Berkshire, and 14th Earl of Suffolk.
[68] Wife of 6th Viscount.
[69] Daughter of 1st Earl Ferrers.
[70] Daughter of 1st Earl Ferrers, by second marriage.
[71] Daughter of 1st Earl Aylesford.
[72] Widow of 15th Duke, née Sherburne.
[73] Son of Sir Thomas Southwell.
[74] Her cousin, née Grace Robinson.
[75] Terms used in ombre and quadrille.

1740

In her next letter of January 4, 1740, she says—

“I should be glad to send you some news, but all the news of the place
would be like the bills of Mortality, palsy four, gout six, fever one, and so
on. We hear of nothing but ‘Mr. such-a-one is not abroad to-day.’ ‘Oh no,’
says another poor gentleman, ‘he dyed to-day.’ Then another cries, ‘My
party was made for Quadrille[76] to-night, but one of the gentlemen has had
a second stroke of the palsy and cannot come; there is no depending on
people, nobody minds engagements.’
“I beg the favour of your Grace to tell Mrs. Pendarves that I often
enquire after her from her friend Mrs. Donnellan. I hear there is hope of
Mrs. Pendarves coming here in March, but I know you will be against the
journey, so I dare not say how glad I should be to see her. I assure we have
none like her here.”

[76] Quadrille, a card-game for four people, played with 40 cards, 8’s, 9’s, and
10’s discarded.

Miss Anne Donnellan, who according to the then LORD NOEL
prevailing custom in regard to unmarried women SOMERSET —
DOWAGER
beyond extreme youth was called Mrs., was the

daughter of Nehemiah Donnellan, Lord Chief Baron DUCHESS OF
NORFOLK
of the Exchequer of Ireland, and Martha, née Miss
Usher. Her father was dead, and her mother had, in 1712, remarried the
Hon. Philip Percival, brother to the 1st Lord Egmont. The Donnellans were
great friends of Dean Swift, and Anne and her brother, the Rev. Christopher
Donnellan, were correspondents of his, as can be seen in the printed letters
in “Swift’s Life.” The next letter to the duchess says—

“Lord Berkshire was wheeled into the rooms on Thursday night, where
he saluted me with much snuff and civility, in consequence of which I
sneezed and curtseyed abundantly; as a further demonstration of his loving-
kindness, he made me play at commerce with him. You may easily guess at
the charms of a place where the height of my happiness is a pair royal at
commerce, and a peer of fourscore. Last night I took to the more youthful
diversion of dancing, and am nothing but a fan (which my partner tore), the
worse for it; our beaux here may make a rent in a woman’s fan, but they
never will make holes in her heart, for my part Lord Noel Somerset[77] has
made me a convert from toupets and pumps, to tye wigs and a gouty shoe.
Ever since my Lord Duke reprimanded me for admiring Lord
Crawford’s[78] nimble legs, I have resolved to prefer the merit of the head to
the agility of the heels; and I have made so great a progress in my resolution
as to like the good sense which limps, better than the lively folly which
dances. But to my misfortune he likes the Queen of Spades so much more
than me, that he never looks off his cards, though, were I the Queen of
Diamonds, he would stand a fair chance for me. Lord Aylesford comes to
the rooms every night like ‘Beau Clincher’ in a blanket: he wears a nasty
red rugg great coat. The Dowager Duchess of Norfolk bathes, and being
very tall she had like to have drowned a few women in the Cross Bath, for
she ordered it to be filled till it reached to her chin, and so all those who
were below her stature, as well as rank, were forced to come out or drown;
and finding, according to the Proverb, in vain to strive against the stream,
they left the bath rather than swallow so large a draught of water. I am sorry
for the cruel separation of your Grace and Miss Dashwood, I believe no one
parts with their friends with greater reluctance than you do.”

[77] Afterwards 4th Duke of Beaufort.

[78] John, 17th Earl of Crawford, and 7th Earl of Lindsay.

On January 25 Elizabeth says, “An unfortunate joint in my hip has been
so troublesome, I could not have believed the rheumatism would attack so
dancing a leg;” and then commenting on Lord Noel Somerset’s recent
engagement to Miss Berkeley[79]—

[79] Elizabeth Berkeley, daughter of John Symes Berkeley, of Stoke Gifford.

“I think Lord Noel’s wife must be happy, and Miss Berkeley is a very
deserving woman, and good-natured. Everybody is content except those
who would have liked the gentleman for themselves.... A man of merit, and
a younger brother is a purchase only for a large fortune; as for those who
have more merit than wealth, they must turn the penny by disposing of their
useless virtues for riches, the exchange may sometimes be difficult, Virtues
not being sterling, nor merit the coin of the nation.... Gold is the chief
ingredient in the composition of worldly happiness. Living in a cottage on
love is certainly the worst diet and the worst habitation one can find out. As
for modern marriages they are great infringers of the baptismal vow; for ’tis
commonly the pomps and vanities of this wicked world on one side and the
simple lust of the flesh on the other side. For my part when I marry I do not
intend to enlist entirely under the banner of Cupid or Plutus, but take
prudent consideration and decent inclination for my advisers; I like a coach
and six extremely, but a strong apprehension of repentance would not suffer
me to accept it from many who possess it....
“I beg your Grace to make my compliments to Mrs. Pendarves, and
return my sincere thanks for saying so much in my favour as could
introduce me to so an agreeable an acquaintance as Mrs. Donnellan. I
assure you what she says gives pleasure, and what she sings delight.”[80]

[80] Her exquisite singing is mentioned in Mrs. Delany’s Memoirs.

In January, 1740, the weather was so severe, a FROST FAIR
frost fair was held on the Thames for weeks together;
booths, tents, and shows of all kinds were the order of the day. In a letter to
the duchess this is alluded to thus:—

“What will the world come to now the Duchesses drink gin, and
frequent Fairs? I am afraid your gentlemen did not pledge you, or they
might have resisted the frost and the fatigue by the strength of that
comfortable liquor. I want much to know if your Grace got a ride in the
Flying Coach, which is part of the diversion of a Fair.... I am much obliged
to your Grace for forming schemes for me. If any castles come to my share
they must be airy ones, for I have no material to build them on Terra Firma.
I am not a good chimerical architect, and besides I would rather dwell this
summer in a small room in a certain mansion near Gerrard’s Cross,[81] than
in the most spacious building I could get. I shall not be troublesome to you
in town, for our stay here will be so long that our family will hardly go
down till May. The time will come that we shall meet at Philippi.”

[81] Meaning Bullstrode, which is close to Gerrard’s Cross.

A letter from Mrs. Donnellan, with whom MRS. DONNELLAN
Elizabeth had struck up a lively friendship, and
entered into a correspondence, is dated from London, April, 1740, portions
of which I copy—

“Since my last I passed a most agreeable day with your friend and mine;
the Duke and Duchess of Portland proposed a jaunt into the city to see city
shows, and were so obliging as to ask me with Mrs. Pendarves to be of the
party. We were four men, four women: our fourth woman was Lady
Wallingford, whom I never saw before; but she seems good-natured and
civil; our four men, the Duke, Lord Dupplin, Mr. Achard,[82] and Dr. Shaw,
[83]
all new to me. We set out at ten in two hackney coaches, and stopped at
everything that had a name between us and the Tower, going and coming,
and dined at a city Tavern. I am extremely glad your time is fixed for
coming to us, and that we shall have you a month. You will find the rage for

whist[84] a little abated, I hope, if the weather and Vaux Hall is in its lustre.
You are right in quarrelling with the men for letting cards take their places
in the ladies’ hearts, for I dare say they would rather hear the gentlemen say
fine things, than win a Slam, and it is a want of gallantry in the men that
runs the women into cards; for something we must have to stir our passions,
or life seems dull. Your account of Bath folks diverted me much.... My
present delight is the fine lady who admires and hates to excess; she doats
on the dear little boy that dances, she detests Handel’s Oratorios; indeed she
don’t say she admires Mademoiselle de Chateauneuf’s kicking the
tambourine, till she shows herself naked to the waist. She owns it is
indecent, but she goes constantly to see her. I don’t know whether you have
heard of the kicking entertainment? I have not seen it, but I have heard it
very lively described; she kicks twice for the King, and once for the
audience, to the great edification of the spectators. I suppose you have
heard of the false dice at the last masquerade. I fancy it must have been a
pretty sight, a dozen Dominoes, at five in the morning examined before
Justice de Val: I think they should have been all Devils with Horns and
Hoofs. I saw the Duke and Duchess of Portland yesterday morning at
Zincke’s,[85] where she and Mrs. Pendarves are sitting for their pictures....
Adieu; make my compliments to all your family, and believe me, dear
Madam,
“Your affectionate friend, and humble servant,
“Anne Donnellan.”

[82] Mr. Achard had been tutor to the duke, and was afterwards his secretary.
[83] Dr. Shaw, born 1692, died 1751; Regius Professor of Greek, Oxford. Great
traveller, botanist, etc.
[84] Elizabeth hated games of cards.
[85] Christian Frederick Zincke, born 1684, died 1767; eminent miniature painter.

Elizabeth suffering much still from headaches, Dr. THE PLUNGE BATH
Sandys was consulted, and he recommended the
plunge bath. This was at Marylebone, at the then popular gardens. This was
considered a hazardous exploit, and she first wrote to ask her parents’
consent. Writing to Sarah, she says—

“If you was to see me souse into the cold bath, you would think I had
not sense or feeling.... The Duchess went with me the first time, and was
frightened out of her wits, but I behaved much to my honour. Mrs. Verney
went to learn to go in of me. Mrs. Pendarves went with me to-day, and was
as pale as a ghost with the fear of my being drowned, which you know is
impossible. I go in every day and have found benefit already; but there are
two things I dislike, viz. the pain of going overhead, and the expense of the
bath. The Duke and Duchess are very good in lending me the coach every
morning to Marrybone, which is two miles from here, but the bath was
better than any at Charing Cross: the Duchess says if there is any bath, as
she thinks there is in their neighbourhood at Bullstrode, she will send me to
it, a tub not being near so good.”

The whole parish of Marylebone belonged to the Duchess of Portland.
There were nine springs of water there: vide “Old and New London,” vol.
iv.
April, 1740, occurs a letter to her sister Sarah, FAIRINGS
written whilst staying with the duchess in London.
Elizabeth says—

“Lord Oxford went to Bath in the post chaise for a week, he brought us
all fairings. Mine were a fan, and a snuff box of Egyptian pebbles set in
Pinchbeck.[86] The Duchess a fan, and an enamel tag for her lace.”

[86] Christopher Pinchbeck invented this sham gold. He died in 1732.

The next letter to her mother says—

“I was at Mr. Zincke’s yesterday in the morning, where I am to sit for
my picture. On Thursday we went out of town to Sir John Stanley’s[87] at
North End. There we met Mrs. Pendarves. I was much pleased with my
visit. Sir John at 80 years old has as much politeness, good nature and

cheerfulness as I ever met; his behaviour has neither the formality of age,
nor the pertness of youth.”

[87] Sir John Stanley married Anne Granville, aunt to Mrs. Pendarves, who had
been Maid-of-Honour to Queen Mary II.

In March Lord Oxford gave a ball at Marylebone “LONG” SIR
— THOMAS
ROBINSON

“The Ball was very agreeable. I will give you the list of company as they
danced;—the Duchess and Lord Foley,[88] the Duke and Mrs. Pendarves,
Lord Dupplin and ‘Dash,’[89] Lord George[90] and ‘Fidget,’ Lord Howard
and Miss Cesar, Mr. Granville[91] and Miss Tatton, Mr. Howard and another
Miss Cesar. The partners were chosen by their fans, but a little supercherie
in the case of one of our dancers appointed failed, so our worthy cousin Sir
Tommy[92] was sent for, and he came, but when he had drawn Miss Cesar’s
fan he would not dance with her, but Mr. Hay,[93] who as the more
canonical diversion, chose cards, danced with the poor forsaken damsel.
The Knight bore the roast with great fortitude, and to make amends
promised his neglected Fair a ball at his house. I believe in his economy he
saves a dinner when invited to supper, for he eat a forequarter of lamb, a
chicken, with a plentiful portion of ham, potted beef and jellies
innumerable, and made a prodigious breakfast of bread and butter and
coffee, a little after two in the morning.... I sat for my picture[94] this
morning to Zincke; I believe it will be very like. I am in Anne Boleyn’s
dress. I desire you to send me up my worked facing and robing, my point,
some lute-string, and the cambrick for my ruffles. I had the pleasure of
hearing to-day that our dear Robert had succeeded in getting a ship. I am
sorry he will go out with the first fleet. I tremble, too, for fear he should
have any engagement with the Spaniards. Mrs. D’Ewes desires to
recommend herself to you being of the party of loving sisters.”

[88] Thomas, 2nd Baron Foley.
[89] Miss Dashwood, “Delia.”

[90] Lord George Bentinck, the duke’s brother.
[91] Brother of Mrs. Pendarves.
[92] “Long” Sir Thomas Robinson, of Rokeby.
[93] The Rev. Robert Hay, son of the 7th Earl of Kinnoul; afterwards Archbishop
of York.
[94] See portrait in this book.

Mrs. D’Ewes, née Anne Granville, was the beloved sister of Mrs.
Pendarves, recently married to Mr. John D’Ewes.... In the next letter to her
mother she describes what she calls a “new head,” given to her by the
duchess. “Last Tuesday I put on my New head; it is extremely handsome,
very broad, and the lace has more thin work in it than has been made till
this year.” To this head was added ruffles and a tucker by the same donor.
Quin was acting then in London. She writes to Sarah—

“I have been to the play As you Like it. Quin outdid his usual outdoings.
I never heard anything spoke with such command of voice and action as the
‘seven stages of man,’ from the rough bass of the good Justice, ‘whose
round belly with good capon lined,’ till he sunk to the childish treble; it was
really prodigious, the alteration of the voice, he spoke the slippered
pantaloon just like my Uncle Clark.[95] I saw the facetious Monsieur and
Mademoiselle Fausan dance, but Quin had so possessed himself of my
thoughts that I was not over-delighted with them, tho’ I think they dance
very well for a character dance. Wednesday I went into the cold bath, and
from thence the Duke and Duchess, Mr. Achard, Lord George Bentinck,
Lady Throckmorton, Mrs. Collingwood, and Sir Robert Throckmorton[96]
went to Mary-le-Bone gardens to breakfast; after that they all went with me
to Zincke’s to sit for my picture, and we spent the evening at Vaux Hall. On
Thursday we went, two coaches and six, to Kew, Richmond, and
Petersham, Lord Harrington’s,[97] where I could turn Pastorella with great
pleasure, such prospects, from the most charming place I ever saw, I was
ready to call out, ‘O care Selve beate.’ I would tell you more of my
meditations, but the bell for supper interrupts me.”

[95] Her great-uncle on her mother’s side.

[96] 4th Baronet and his second wife.
[97] 1st Earl of Harrington.

Lady Wallingford was attacked by smallpox at this LORD WALLING­‐
time, but had it very favourably. In a letter to Mrs. FORD’S DEATH

Robinson, Elizabeth says—

“She never had three hundred all over her, and was at the heighth, I
believe, in seven days. Her Lord dyed very suddenly of a quinsy before she
had been downstairs, so she had not even the melancholy consolation of a
last farewell; she laid up two pairs of stairs, and he below, so they told her
he was removed, and died at Kensington. He has left everything to her....
Lord Wallingford certainly caught his death with attending her, a sad
aggravation of the affliction; he died with the greatest courage imaginable.
Sandys, who with several Physicians and Surgeons was called in, begged
him to settle his affairs, upon which he made his will (that he had by him,
being very deficient in points of Law), and took leave of his friends. There
was no hopes from the first, for this convulsive Quinsy is always mortal.”

In another she says he died of “cramp in the throat,” which sounds more
likely. It has been stated that Lord Wallingford died in France, but his death
occurred at Whitehall.
The duke and family, including Elizabeth, left Whitehall in June for
Bullstrode.[98] In a letter of June 24 to Mr. Freind and his wife, she says—

“The rural beauties of the place would persuade me I was in the plains of
Arcadia, but the magnificence of the building under whose gilded roof I
dwell, has a pomp far beyond pastoral. We go to chapel twice a week, and
have sermons on Sunday, for his Grace of Portland values the title of
Christian above that of Duke, and the chaplain may preach against every
vice in fashion without fear of offending either his Patron or Patroness.”

[98] Bullstrode was originally in the Shobbington family before the Conquest.
Judge Jefferies bought it, and built the house here mentioned in 1686. His son-in-
law sold it to the Earl of Portland. In 1807 it was sold to the Duke of Somerset.

In another letter— THE MENAGERIE

“We breakfast at 9, dine at 2, drink tea at 8, and sup at 10. In the
morning we work or read. In the afternoon the same, walk from 6 till tea-
time, and then write till supper. I think since we came down our despatches
in numbers, tho’ not in importance, have equalled those at the Secretary’s
Office.... The Duchess and I have been walking in the woods to-night, and
feeding the pheasants in the menagerie. The late Duke had Macaws, Parrots,
and all sorts of foreign birds flying in one of the woods; he built a house
and kept people to wait upon them; there are now some birds in the house,
and one Macaw, but most were destroyed in the Duke’s minority.”
FRANKS —
On July 22 occurs this interesting letter to her LADY MARY
mother— WORTLEY
MONTAGU

“Madam,
“Much visiting has of late hindered my writing to you. My Lady
Duchess does not care to spare me to write except when she is so employed
too, and the time set apart for that is in the evening, and when we make
visits at any distance, it is late before we return, and letters go from here
between 10 and 11. When we first came down, we supped at 9, but we
found so early an hour encroached too much upon our hours of writing, so
now we sup at 10, at which time the Duke comes into the Duchess’s
dressing-room,[99] where we write together, and franks our packets. On
Saturday, we were at Windsor to visit the Miss Granvilles, daughters of the
famous Lord Lansdowne;[100] they unhappily inherit neither the wit of their
Father, nor the beauty of their Mother.[101]... The Duchess is very civil to
them, and Miss Granville was her acquaintance in infancy, and it is very
right in her to take notice of them now. Lord Weymouth[102] supports them,
but how long he will be willing or able to do so, no one knows. On Sunday,
I was at Mrs. Hare’s, widow to the late Bishop Hare,[103] and was much
entertained there by Sir John Shadwell and his family, who are just come
from abroad. Lady Shadwell[104] saw Lady Mary Wortley at Venice, where
she now resides, and asked her what made her leave England; she told them
the reason was, people were grown so stupid she could not endure their
company, all England was infected with dullness; by-the-bye, what she

means by insupportable dullness is her husband,[105] for it seems she never
intends to come back while he lives. A husband may be but a dull creature
to one of Lady Mary’s sprightly genius, but methinks even her vivacity
might accommodate itself to living in the Kingdom with him; she is a
woman of great family merit, she has banished her children,[106] abandoned
her husband. I suppose as she cannot reach Constantinople, she will limit
her ambition to an intrigue with the Pope or the Doge of Venice.... The
Duke of Leeds’[107] wedding was very grand. The Duke of Newcastle’s[108]
entertainment upon the occasion was 15 dishes in a course, four courses.
The Duchess of Newcastle, sister to Lady Mary Godolphin, and Mr. Hay
are gone down with the Duke and Duchess of Leeds. The Duchess had a
diamond necklace from her Mother worth £10,000, she was very fine in
cloaths and jewels. The old Duchess of Marlborough[109] is now mightily
fond of her. Her Grace is at law with the Duke of Marlbro’; she talked two
hours like the widow Blackacre in Westminster Hall, amongst things of
value she was to surrender to the Duke[110] there was the late Duke’s fine
sword, and George, ‘Oh,’ says she, ‘as for the George, he will sell it, but for
the sword he won’t know what to do with that, so I believe he will lay it by,
or may be if he can he will pawn it, he can make no other use of it, I am
sure.’... Pray have you heard from the dear little boys?[111] I have always
forgot their direction. I think it is Scorton, near Richmond?
“I am, Madam,
“Your most dutiful daughter,
“E. Robinson.”

[99] In the eighteenth century dressing-rooms represented the modern boudoir.
[100] George Granville, Lord Lansdowne, born 1667, died 1735; great statesman
and writer. Uncle to Mrs. Delany.
[101] Lady Mary Villiers, daughter of the Earl of Jersey, widow of J. Thynne.
[102] Their half-brother.
[103] Francis Hare, D.D., born 1665, died 1740; Bishop of St. Asaph and
Chichester.
[104] Daughter of Evelyn, Duke of Kingston, born 1690, died 1762.
[105] Edward Wortley Montagu, grandson of 1st Earl Sandwich. His mother,
Anne Wortley, a great heiress; he took her name.

[106] Her two children, the eccentric Edward Wortley Montagu, junior, and Mary,
Countess of Bute.
[107] Thomas, 4th Duke of Leeds.
[108] 1st Duke of Newcastle-under-Lyme, Thomas Pelham Holles. The bride,
Lady Harriett Godolphin, grand-daughter of the Duke of Marlborough.
[109] The celebrated duchess.
[110] Charles Spencer, 2nd Duke of Marlborough.
[111] Her three little brothers.

Mr. Freind, having written a letter to Elizabeth THE REV. WILLIAM
expressing a fear that her head might be turned by the FREIND

great company, and the splendid place she was
residing in, she replies—

“I am neither condemning greatness, nor envying it, but gratefully and
cheerfully enjoying what I am. I thank Providence for the blessings it has
given me, without either despising or wishing for the gifts it has bestowed
on others. I enjoy the present time without regretting the past, or wishing
for that to come, but still as conducive to happiness, prefer to-day to
yesterday or to-morrow. I keep content for the present, and hope for the
future, and love this life without fearing another.”

This letter was sent to Witney, Oxon, the seat of the blanket
manufacture. The Rev. William Freind had become Rector there, since the
resignation of his father, the Rev. Dr. Robert Freind, in the previous year.
His mother was a Miss Jane de l’Angle, daughter of the Rev. Samuel de
l’Angle, once pastor of the reformed church at Charenton, near Paris, who,
on the persecution of Louis XIV., fled to England and was made a
Prebendary of Westminster. The Rev. William Freind built the good stone
rectory still existent at Witney. A medallion portrait of him is over a door in
the Hall. Mrs. Donnellan had been recommended to drink the waters at Spa
in the Ardennes, and, accompanied by her friends, Mr. and Mrs. Cottington,
set out, poor Mr. Cottington dying soon after their arrival. Mrs. Donnellan
wrote to Elizabeth on July 11 a long letter, out of which I copy the account
of the water cure as then practised—

“We are all out by six in the morning in our chaises, and go three miles
to the Geronsterre waters. We come home by nine, and take a cup of
chocolate, dine between 12 and 1, go to the Assembly at 4, where there are
all countries, and all languages, half a dozen card tables, and no crowd;
from the Assembly we take a walk in the Capucins garden; all are in before
8 to supper, and to bed at 10.”
PRINCESS MARY
Princess Mary[112] of England had been married in OF HESSE
[113]
May to the Prince of Hesse. The prince did not
come to England, so her brother, the Duke of Cumberland, acted proxy. The
following account is of gifts given to the princess’s suite who accompanied
her to Hesse:—

“The Duchess of Dorset[114] has had fine presents upon going over with
the Princess of Hesse. The Prince presented her with a gold teapot, tea-
kettle, and lamp, and Lady Caroline Sackville[115] with a set of Dresden
china and a diamond solitaire. The Duchess had likewise a set of Dresden
teacups, and a service of Dresden China, and the King gave her a gold
snuffbox with a thousand pounds Bank bill in it.”

[112] Princess Mary, daughter of George II.
[113] Frederick, Landgrave of Hesse Cassel.
[114] Wife of 1st Duke of Dorset, née Elizabeth Colyear.
[115] Daughter of the Duchess of Dorset, afterwards Countess of Dorchester.

In a letter to Sarah Robinson of August 11, mention is made of—

“a mask at Cliefden, on Princess Augusta’s[116] birthday; ‘The Story of
Alfred,’ wrote by Thomson[117] and Mallet,[118] Mr. Grenville commends it
and says it will be published. I own I cannot give much credit to it, for I
rather imagine he commends it as a patriot than a judge. I never knew
anything of Thomson’s that seemed to be wrote, or could be read, without
great labour of the brain.... Lord and Lady Oxford are to come here next
Monday, (Bullstrode), and stay a month. Lord Dupplin has made a copy of

verses upon my going into the bath, which we would impute to Sandys[119]
to his great amazement. He says he does not know who wrote them, but
thinks he is very sure he did not.”

[116] Daughter of George II., born 1737.
[117] James Thomson, born 1700, died 1748; poet, wrote “The Seasons,” etc.
[118] David Mallet, Scottish poet, patronized by Pope; died 1765.
[119] A well-known lady’s doctor.

August 25, Elizabeth writes to her father— MONKEY ISLAND

“The Duke and Duchess were so obliging as to carry me to see Windsor
Castle last week. It is so delightful a place and so fine a palace, I am
surprised his Majesty does not spend his summer there, I should think it as
well as going to Hanover. The same day we were at Windsor, we went to
see a little island[120] circled by the Thames, which the Duke of
Marlborough[121] purchased and has beautified at the expense of £8000.
There is too great an embarras of buildings upon it, the finest of which I
think something resembling the Temple of Janus. He has a better title to
build one to war than to fame, for he has got a commission, but renown I
believe is what he will never gain. He sent out a few days ago for four-score
workmen to improve a place he never proposes to live at, after the old
Duchess dies. His Grandfather now saved a people, now saved a groat, but
such a warrior and economist as this gentleman he will never save either.
“Lady Andover[122] told me in a letter I received from her last post, that
Mrs. Botham was grown very grave, and a great workwoman and an
excellent housewife; if that is the case, Mr. Botham preaches to those of his
household as well as those of his parish.”

[120] Monkey Island.
[121] Charles, 3rd Duke.
[122] Second daughter of Heneage, Earl of Aylesford, wife of William, Lord
Andover.

This is the first allusion to Lydia Botham, cousin LYDIA BOTHAM —
of Elizabeth Robinson; she, and her more illustrious COUNTESS OF
OXFORD
sister Elizabeth, or Eliza Lumley, afterwards wife of
the Rev. Laurence Sterne, of “Shandean” memory, were the children of the
Rev. Robert Lumley, of the Lumley Castle family, Rector of Bedale, Yorks,
from 1721 to 1732; and of Lydia, daughter of Anthony Light,[123] and
widow in 1709 of her first husband, Thomas Kirke, of Cockridge, near
Leeds (a famous Virtuoso), she married afterwards the Rev. Robert Lumley;
[124]
for the table elucidating this pedigree the reader must turn to the end of
the introductory portion of this work. The Lumleys are said to have been
brought up in style, but little means had remained to them. Both parents
were dead; Lydia had recently married the Rev. John Botham, Rector of
Yoxall, Staffordshire. Elizabeth Lumley, her sister, was residing alone in
“Little Alice Lane,” under the shadow of York Cathedral. In a folio-sheet
letter to her sister Sarah, Elizabeth explains that owing to the Countess of
Oxford being at Bullstrode, she had more time to herself, as the countess
and she had spent alternate mornings with the duchess. The countess was
kind to Elizabeth, but she was a rare admirer of etiquette. When she was
with the duchess, she actually wished to see all her letters, which was
naturally annoying to a married woman; she also expected them to be
couched in the most formal manner, as addressed to a ducal person! Hence,
when Elizabeth was away from the duchess, and Lady Oxford was with her,
the letters were often written under cover to the duchess’s two lady dressers,
so as to indulge in fewer formalities; also, as can be read in Mrs. Delany’s
Memoirs in letters from the duchess, nicknames were often set up between
the circle of friends, known only to themselves in case of their being
opened. This passage in the letter will point to the formality of the circle
when including Lady Oxford—

“While our present Guests are here we are so overcharged with
ceremony, we cannot move about, and as I am not (thanks to the humility of
my station), of the Countess’ cabinet council, I have the morning to myself.
To employ them to my edification, I have laid in a great store of Italian,
which I cannot read with the Duchess as she has forgotten it so much. I
have laid aside the Arcadia[125] till Mrs. Pendarves comes, who is fond of it,
and the Duchess and I have agreed that she shall read it to us.... I beg you

will send me the receipt for York Curds, and also for Pancakes, called ‘A
quire of paper.’”

[123] Of Durham; his grandmother, wife of Gilbert Kirke, was one of the
coheiresses of Francis Layton of Rawdon.
[124] As stated in former pages, her mother, Mrs. Light, remarried for second
husband, Thomas Robinson, father by her of Matthew Robinson.
[125] “The Arcadia,” written by Sir Philip Sidney.

On August 21, in a letter to Mrs. Donnellan at Spa, occurs the passage—

“Our friend Penny is under great anxiety for the change her sister is
going to make. I do not wonder at her fears; I believe both experience, and
observation, have taught her the state she is going into is in the general, less
happy than that she has left. ‘Pip’ has a good prospect, for they say the
gentleman[126] has good sense, good nature, and great sobriety; these are
very good things, and indeed what a stock of virtues and qualifications
ought to be laid in to last out the journey of life, where so much too lies
through the rugged ways of adversity, all will hardly serve to lengthen love
and patience to the end.”

[126] John D’Ewes, of Wellesbourne, Co. Warwick.

The lady to be married was Anne Granville, whose nickname was “Pip”;
she was about to be married to Mr. John D’Ewes. “Pen” was Mrs.
Pendarves’ nickname, afterwards Mrs. Delany, and those who have read her
memoirs will remember how unhappy was her first experience of married
life. Much mention is made in this letter of an apron Elizabeth is working
for the duchess; she begs for patterns of flowers from her father’s pencil,
and Mr. Hateley, an artist friend. Embroidered aprons were then the rage,
but only for demi-toilette; the beautiful Duchess of Queensberry,[127] going
to Court in an apron about this time, was forbidden to attend. The aprons
were of all colours as well as white, and the duchess, fearing a light ground

would soon soil, bade Elizabeth work hers on a black ground. Sarah
Robinson at the same time was working her sister one.

[127] Catherine Hyde, Duchess of Queensberry. Prior’s “Kitty, beautiful and
young;” wife of 3rd Duke.

The following passage is indicative of the times: EARL OF OXFORD
—

“Lord Oxford drinks hard at the chaplain sometimes, but whether a
churchman’s conscience lyes deep, or a bumper to Church and King agrees
with an orthodox stomach, I don’t know, but he seems less confounded with
a bottle of claret than he is with his text, and shows the bottom of it too,
which he cannot do with the other.”

Mr. Freind having written a letter in which he rallies Elizabeth about not
choosing one of her many admirers, she replies—

“I have lately studied my own foibles, and I have found out I should
make a very silly wife, and an extremely foolish Mother, and so have as far
resolved as is consistent with deference to reason and advice, never to
trouble any man, or spoil any children. I already love too many people in
this world to enjoy a perfect tranquility, and I don’t care to have any more
strings to pull my heart; it is very tender, and a small matter hurts it. I have
been lately a little out of spirits about my incomparable Duchess; she has
been a good deal out of order, but by bleeding and care, she is much better,
I wish I could say well.”
ADMIRAL
Mention of Admiral Vernon[128] is made in a letter VERNON
of September 12 to Mr. Freind after the victory of
Portobello, which had been taken by him in 1739; he had bombarded
Carthagena—

“I hope the glorious Vernon will do some great exploit by himself. All
the ladies in Suffolk give place to Mrs. Vernon, even those of the highest

rank. I wish the Admiral may be made a peer when he returns, Baron
Something and Viscount Portobello will sound very well.”

[128] Admiral Vernon, born 1684, died 1757.

Mrs. Donnellan returned from Spa early in CHARLEMAGNE
September, in company of Mrs. Anne Pitt, a sister of
Mr. William Pitt, afterwards Lord Chatham. Portions of her letter I copy—

“We had a very pleasant journey together, and find ’tis possible to travel
comfortably without that lordly person—Man! I have mentioned being at
Aix-la-Chapelle, which is a bad day’s journey from Spa. I went with Mrs.
Hoare, and we chose to go at the time Charlemagne makes his procession
round the town, which is an annual ceremony, and the most solemn and
ridiculous I have seen. He built the town, and made it an imperial city, and
this procession is in memory of him. He is represented by a pasteboard
figure, 12 feet high (for they will have him a giant), he has on his head a
very fine curled and powdered full-bottomed periwig, an Imperial crown on
that; downwards, he has a yellow damask night-gown, which hides those
who carry him. He walks round the city attended by all the Orders in their
different habits (which is a pretty sight),—the magistracy, and the Host
carried under a canopy. They stopped before the Town House where we
were, and said Mass at an altar raised on purpose, then they adored the
Host, and Charlemagne stooped and goggled his eyes, which are pulled by
wires, and so the ceremony ended. We landed at Deal on Sunday night, in a
storm of thunder, lightning and wind, wet to the skin. I have bought some
Spa necklaces. I have a blue one for you, and a green one for the Duchess.
“My folks are quite taken up with fitting their[129] house in Bond Street,
which they design getting into at Michaelmas. I have a cheerful dressing
room in it, which I dedicate to a few friends, none other shall come into it,
and it luckily only holds a few seats; I will reserve one for you.”

[129] Her mother, then the Hon. Mrs. Philip Perceval, and her second husband.

On September 23, in a letter of Elizabeth to her THE REV. DR.
sister, we first hear of Dr. Young, the author of “Night YOUNG
Thoughts.” At this time this celebrated poem was not
written, but various other poems, satires, and tragedies had made him
famous. Edward Young, LL.D., was born in 1684, educated at Winchester,
New College, and Corpus Christi, Oxford; in 1730 was Rector of Welwyn,
Herts; in 1731 he married Lady Betty Lee, widow of Colonel Lee, and
daughter of the Earl of Lichfield. The Duke of Wharton was his literary
patron.

“Dr. Young is coming soon. We wish for his coming, for I hear he is
agreeable, and, indeed, his private character is excellent. He sends his
compliments to me when he writes to the Duchess, and says he is perfectly
acquainted with me, and all that is the vision of a Poet, for I never saw him
in my life, but he is so kind as to commend me and all my works in all
places.”

In the next letter (October 8) she says—

“My dear Sally,
“The sons of Apollo haunt this place much; the tuneful Green[130]
is gone, but the poetical Dr. Young is with us. I am much entertained with
him, he is a very sensible man, has a lively imagination, and strikes out very
pretty things in his conversation, tho’ he has satyrized the worst of our sex,
he honours the best of them extremely, and seems delighted with those who
act and think reasonably. I think he has written a Satire against that
composition of oddity, affectation, and folly which is called ‘a pretty sort of
a woman,’—if anyone has a mind to put on that character they need only
pervert their sense, distort their faces, disjoint their limbs, mince their
phrases, and lisp their words, and the thing is done, grimaces, trite
sentences, affected civility, forced gaiety, and an imitation of good nature
completes the character.... That sentences, systems and definitions should
give way to Cribbage, but two Duchesses command my presence! The
Duchess of Kent[131] came here yesterday; she is a very sensible polite
woman, and she wants one to play Cribbage, so my dear, dear sister, Adieu!

“E. R.”

[130] Dr. Green, a celebrated musician.
[131] The second wife of Henry (Grey), 1st Duke of Kent, née Sophia Bentinck,
great-aunt of the Duke of Portland of these pages.

In a letter to Mrs. Robinson— THE DUCHESS OF
KENT

“The Duchess of Kent is very agreeable, has good sense and politeness,
and those who know her well say many valuable qualities. I look upon my
Duchess as the Arch-Duchess, before whom all lesser stars hide their
diminished heads; as for Dr. Young, he is a very sensible man, and an
entertaining companion, and starts new subjects of conversation, and there
is nothing so much wanted in the country as the art of making the same
people chase new topics without change of persons. The Duchess and Dr.
Young design to leave us to-morrow.... Dr. Sandys has given Deb
quicksilver, which has been of great service to her, and it appears that she
had worms.”

“Deb” was Elizabeth’s lady’s maid. The Pharmacopeia was then of such
an extraordinary kind, that from time to time I shall mention the remedies
used for various complaints; why more people were not killed by some of
the nostrums is marvellous.
Elizabeth writes to Sarah on November 1, telling her she is reading the
“Decameron” of Boccaccio. The duchess was also renewing her Italian
knowledge. They were reading aloud Dr. Samuel Clarke’s sermons, and she
says—

“Hay[132] is an auditor, as he cannot read himself; Mr. Achard is a
translator of pronunciation so that one would take his English to be French
when he reads aloud, then as for the Duke, he hunts thrice a week, and has
business, so that our invalid is glad of a female lecturer.”

[132] The Hon. John Hay, son of 7th Earl of Kinnoul, a relation of the duchess,
then a great invalid.

Mr. Achard, a Frenchman mentioned previously, had been the duke’s
tutor, and was now his secretary.
From the letters, he appears to have been very tall; he was frequently
called “Brother Bonaventura,” and as his humour was variable, at times
“Monsieur du Poivre,” at others “Monsieur du Miel!”
The next letter to her father thanks him for a DR. GREY
design he had made for an apron for the duchess, with
which she was delighted, and—

“if the work could be as elegant as the drawing, would be the most finished
apron for the most finished Duchess. Lord Oxford and George Vertue[133]
arrived here last night after a ramble which the best geographer could
hardly describe; they have been haunting church-yards, and reading the
history of mankind upon the gravestones. Dr. Grey[134] is employed in a
work which to make its appearance in public you would not easily guess at.
I believe ’tis no perplexity upon Mysteries, no refutation of the doctrine of
Transubstantiation, no explanation of the Catechism, but a thing for which
his serious qualifications do not seem very fit. He is writing upon
Hudibras!”

[133] George Vertue, eminent engraver, archæologist, and author; born 1684, died
1756.
[134] Rev. Dr. Zachary Grey, author, died 1766.

CHAPTER III.
IN LONDON, KENT, AND AT BULLSTRODE, 1741–42. BEGINNING OF CORRESPONDENCE

WITH MRS. DELANY.

The last letter of the year 1740 is written to Mr. Freind on December 29—

“Next Sunday I quit the peaceful groves and hospitable roof of
Bullstrode for the noisy turbulent city; my books and serious reflections are
to be laid aside for the looking-glass and curling irons, and from that time I
am no more a Pastorella, but propose to be as idle, as vain, and as
impertinent, as any one; if you will come to town Mrs. Freind and you will
find me, however, as like myself as to be your sincere friend.”
1741
THE DUCHESS OF
February 5, Elizabeth writes to her sister— QUEENSBERRY

“Dear Madam Sally,
“I went to Lady North’s[135] last night, to see all the fine cloaths
that were made for the Birthday. Lady Scarborough[136] was richly dressed,
the Duchess of Bedford[137] was pretty fine, Mrs. Spencer had a white
velvet which is the ugliest thing in the world, but the Duchess of
Queensberry[138] was such as should be shown at Courts and feasts, and
high solemnities, where most may wonder at the workmanship; her cloaths
were embroidered upon white satin; Vine leaves, Convolvulus and
Rosebuds shaded after Nature; but she in herself was so far beyond the
masterpiece of art, that one could hardly look at her cloaths; allowing for
her age I never saw so beautiful a creature. Miss Pitt[139] had a fine
trimming and looked very pretty, but as for the Roses, they do not bloom in
January, for she is as pale as a ghost. Lady Mary Tufton[140] had a pretty
suit of embroidery. The men were not at all fine. Mr. Lyttelton’s[141] cloaths
were ugly, according to Polonius’ instructions, ‘Rich not gaudy, fine but not
exprest in fancy.’ I did not see any new fashions, as to the wearing stays, I

think they are as usual. I do not know what will become of your fine shape,
for there is a fashionable make that is very strange. I believe they look in
London as they did in Rome after the Rape of the Sabines.
“I am, my dearest, your most affectionate
“E. Robinson.”

[135] Second wife of 7th Baron North, afterwards 1st Earl of Guilford.
[136] Wife of 3rd Earl Scarborough.
[137] Second wife of the 4th Duke.
[138] Wife of 3rd Duke, “Kitty ever fair.”
[139] A sister of Lord Chatham, either Mary or Anne.
[140] Daughter of 7th Earl of Thanet.
[141] George, 1st Lord Lyttelton, afterwards her intimate friend.

February 25, Sarah writes—

“I should be obliged to you if you would in your next letter send me
word what sized hoops moderate people who are neither over lavish nor
covetous of whalebone, wear; because I intend to write to my Hoop maker
to have one ready for me against I come to town, and I don’t care to leave
the size of it to her discretion. I hope our hoops will not increase much
more, for we are already almost as unreasonable as Queen Dido,[142] and
don’t encircle much less with our whalebone, than she did with her bull’s
hide.”

[142] Queen Dido of Tyre bought of the Africans as much land as a bull’s hide
would cover, and by cutting it into strips encircled a large portion.

William Freind D. D.
Dean of Canterbury.
according to Act of Parliament. T Worlidge del. et Sc.

A light is thrown on hairdressing of the period in HAIRDRESSING
the following letter to Sarah:—

“Dear Sister,
“I have been walking in the Park this morning, and returned only
time enough to dress, so while Deb is tiffing and tiffing till my hair is so
pure and so crisp, I am writing a line to you to the great vexation of Mrs.
Mincing, who is afraid I should be the worst dressed for it. I don’t wonder

an ‘Abigail’ that is kept only as a Minister of the toilette should look upon
dressing as the great concern of life, but that other people should make such
a point of it I marvel greatly. Some women by endeavouring to be as
handsome as they can are not so charming as they might be. I never thought
a head agreeably dressed that had not a hair awry; such punctuality may
become a tyre woman, but cannot a belle, but however, it becomes
everybody to be dressed for dinner, which will not be the case if I do not
conclude. I am to go to the ‘Penseroso and Allegro’ to-night. The music of
the ‘Penseroso’ some say is best, ‘but Mirth with thee I choose to live.’
Adieu.”

One can, indeed, pity the unfortunate Abigail with “Fidget” writing
whilst she had her hair dressed! Once after a visit to Bullstrode, the duchess
says she had found a glass-stand left behind by Elizabeth, should she send
it? And the reply was that the stand was used for her to rest her chin on
whilst her maid dressed her hair. The ridiculously high coiffure of the day
must have taken a long time to erect.
No letter can I find till April 10, when the Rev. “THE PEAS”
William Freind writes from Bath, where he and his
wife were staying, to inquire what had become of his cousins. Sarah
Robinson’s[143] pet-name was “Pea,” as she was pronounced to resemble
Elizabeth as much as one pea does another.

“Bath, April 10, 1741.

“It being now near two months since I have received any intelligence of
either of my correspondents, I must needs enclose a letter to Pea, Senior, to
enquire after her whether she be still with the Duke to whom I direct the
cover, or with the rest of the Peas in her own Podd in Kent.
“I expected the beginning of March to hear you had quitted her grace to
join hearts and hands once more with dearly beloved Pea. But Lady
Berkshire whom I saw some days ago, tells me the Duchess is in a very bad
state of health, which I suppose will make you both very unwilling to part
with each other. I have rather fancied therefore some disappointment has
happened, and that your friend’s illness may have taken up your time and
thoughts too much to let us hear what is become of you, for if both sisters
had been together in town, surely both would not have grudged us the

pleasure of hearing you were well and happy.... Even I, surrounded with a
set of noisy politicians on one side, and backgammon players on t’other,
can still make shift to write a line to my dear friend, and ask only how she
does, and where she is, and to assure her that I and my Pea are
“Her and Her Peas,
“Most truly affectionate
friends and humble servants,
“W. and G. F.”[144]

[143] Sarah was born on September 21, 1723, so was three years younger than
Elizabeth.
[144] William and Grace his wife.

The reason of the unaccustomed silence was this HAYTON FARM
—Sarah was suddenly attacked by smallpox, a
disease peculiarly dreaded by Elizabeth. Mrs. Robinson quickly despatched
her to Hayton Farm, a family property leased to a yeoman farmer of the
name of Smith.
April 8 occurs a letter to the duchess—

“I cannot lose the opportunity which just offers me to send a letter to the
post, though I troubled your Grace but yesterday. My sister continues as
well as it is possible to be, and has found out her disorder with which she is
perfectly content, and sends me very merry messages upon it: they are of
the seven day sort, so will turn on Sunday, and on Monday when it is over, I
shall possess my soul in quietness. I am afraid this hurry of spirits and
fatigue, will not prove of service to my Mamma; and if the dire Hyp does
haunt a solitary chimney corner, sure it will visit my Pappa now it is sure to
find him at home and alone. For my part, I am in the case of poor David,
my friends and kinsfolk stand afar off; and when I am to return home I
don’t know. That the distemper may not continue, my Pappa has sent away
half a dozen servants who have not had it, and says he hopes to have me
back again very soon; but indeed I hope to prevail upon him to try how the
air of Mount Morris agrees with his servants, before I return. I live here

very easy, and I have got books and all the necessaries and comforts, though
not the pomps and pleasures of life. The family are civil and sensible
people. As for the Master of the house, he is indeed, to a tittle, Spenser’s
meagre personage called Care: his chief accomplishment as to behaviour is
silence. I never see him but at dinner and supper, and then he eats his
pudding and holds his tongue. I believe his learning amounts to knowing
that four pennies make a groat, and the sooner that groat is a sixpence he
thinks the better. To give your grace a notion of the sort of persons who
compose the Drama:—They are above Farmers considerably, have been
possessed in the family, for aught I know, since the Conqueror of above
£400 a year, they have a good old house, neatly furnished, but there is
nothing of modern structure to be seen in it.
“I am now sitting in an old crimson velvet elbow chair, I should imagine
to be elder brother to that which is shown in Westminster Abbey as Edward
the Confessor’s. There are long tables in the room that have more feet than
the caterpillar you immured at Bullstrode. Why so many legs are needful to
stand still, I cannot imagine, when I can fidget on two. There is a good chest
of drawers in the figure of a Cathedral, and a looking glass which
Rosamond or Jane Shore may have dressed their heads in. Not to forget the
clock, who has indeed been a time server; it has struck the blessed minutes
of the Reformation, Restoration, Abdication, Revolution, and Accession,
and by its relation to time seems to have some to Eternity. It is like its old
Master, only good to point the hour to industry; ... it calls his servant to
yoke the oxen, get ready the plough, wakes the dairy maid to milk and
churn, the daughters hear in it the paternal voice chiding the waste of hours,
and rise obedient to its early call; even me it governs, sends me to bed at
ten, and makes me rise, oh barbarous! at eight.... The mother of the family,
a venerable matron of grave deportment, who was well educated, and
moves in the form of antique ceremonies, but is really a sensible woman!
The daughters are good housewifes, and I like some qualities in them,
which I understand better than their economy. I only wish they could sleep
in their beds in the morning, and wake in a chair in the evening!” ...
LIFE AT A FARM —
The next letter to Mrs. Donnellan, whom A COUNTRY
Elizabeth rebukes for her silence, is dated April 10. In SQUIRE
this she says—

“Before this time you must have been informed by the Duchess or Mrs.
Pendarves of my distress, and also my flight from the maternal mansion to
the house in the neighbourhood. I am at present very happy as my sister is
out of all danger, and I rejoice in thinking she will have one enemy of life
and health the less. So much for the state of my mind; the situation of my
person is not so gay and cheerful. My best friends among the living are a
Colony of rooks who have settled themselves in a grove by my window.
They wake me early in the morning.... I have not yet discovered the form of
their government, but I imagine it is democratical.... If I continue here long
I shall grow a good naturalist. I have applied myself to nursing chickens,
and have been forming the manners of a young calf, but I find it a very dull
scholar. I intend to gather some cowslips for Mrs. Perceval[145] as soon as
they appear; pray let me know if they should be prepared in any particular
manner....
“There are some squires here who would make excellent Polyphemus’s;
one of them drank tea here yesterday, and complimented me with all the
force of rural gallantry, but for some fault in the flattery or the flatterer, I
liked neither him nor myself any better for all the fine things he said. After
he was gone I did but relieve my spleen with some laughter on the subject,
when I was told by the matron of the family, he would be a good match for
a woman with twenty thousand pounds, and indeed could one lend out one’s
liking upon land security, I think one might very well settle it upon him. To
laugh at a poor man is barbarous. He is a great friend of the family I am
with, and I fear will come often; and in spite of his respectable manors and
fee simple, and ancient mansion, both great and good, I shall not be able to
give a serious attention to his discourse.
“I wish you could see my habitation, a right reverend and venerable one
it is; the staircase that leads to my chamber is hung with the funeral
escutcheons of my grandfathers, grandmothers, Aunts and Uncles, that I
seem to be entering the burying vault of the family to sleep with my
Fathers. It is a comfort, no doubt, to think one’s ancestors have had
Christian burial, but of what use are these tawdry escutcheons? Sure no
passion of the mind, no situation of the human creature is without vanity, if
the mourner can adorn with pomp, and the breathless carcase be dressed in
it.

“... address to me at Mr. Smith’s, Hayton, near Hythe.”

[145] Mrs. Donnellan’s mother.

On April 9 the Duchess of Portland lay in of a HANDEL
daughter, Frances, who died in 1743. Mrs. Donnellan
writes on April 11 to give a good report of the duchess’s health, and in this
letter she says—

“I long to hear from you, I want to know who you have to entertain, and
keep up the spirits your sister’s safety must give you. I hope Mr. Robinson,
[146]
your brother, is in banishment with you, for you will want such a
companion to sweeten a long absence from all your other friends. I heartily
wish you were in any place where I could come to you.... The only show we
have had since you left us was for Handel, his last night, all the fashionable
people were there.”

[146] Matthew, her eldest brother.

Mrs. Donnellan again writes on April 15— DR. CONYERS
MIDDLETON

“I like your situation extremely, but I should wish you one rational
companion, for I do not think you were made for calves or poultry, or
greater brutes in the shape of country squires. What is come of Pan? He
used to find out a pretty female in her retirement, but as he has been
sometimes a little dangerous, I think I had rather recommend you to the
conversation of the wood nymphs. I have often wished to be acquainted
with them, I fancy they are very innocent, and free from vanity and
affectation, a little ignorant, and indeed in the fashions and amusements of
London, as dress, cards, old china, Japan, shells, etc., but they may have
notions of friendship and honour, and such antiquated things.
“I have read no further than Cicero’s[147] consulship. By what I have
read of Atticus in other authors particularly the Abbé St. Real,[148] who has

given his character, and translated Cicero’s letters to him, I had not so high
an opinion of him as I find Doctor Middleton has given you. I met
yesterday, at Pen’s, the Bishop of Oxford,[149] Mrs. Secker and Miss Talbot,
[150]
and they seemed to think Dr. Middleton was not so much the historian
as the Panegyrist of Cicero, indeed one observation I have already made
myself, I think him too like a modern Lawyer who pleads all causes good or
bad that gets him interest which was money to them; but when I have read
the whole I will read St. Real again, and then I will tell you more of my
mind. I long till you read Horace, and think he would be particularly proper
in your present retirement, he seems to know how to amuse himself in such
a scene better than any one I ever met with, at the same time that he was the
delight of the politest court[151] that ever was. I really think you have much
of the genius of distinguishing right from wrong, and not being led away by
the false glosses of the world, and want to know whether you find that
conformity.
“I told you in my last I wished to spend some time with you in your
banishment. I am so sincere in it, that if you were in a place where they are
not above being paid for my lodging and board, I would come to you for
one fortnight before you go home....
“My Mother desires her compliments to you, and many thanks for
remembering the cowslips. The manner of saving them is this only, pulling
them out of the Pod, and letting them dry in a north window, and when they
are dry, to put them up in a paper bag.
“I have been this morning to St. Paul’s to hear Handel’s Te Deum.”

[147] Dr. Conyers Middleton’s “Life of Cicero.”
[148] C. V. de St. Real, able French author; died 1692.
[149] Thomas Secker, born 1693, died 1768; made Archbishop of Canterbury in
1758.
[150] Lived with the Seckers; daughter of Edward, second son of Dr. W. Talbot,
D.D., of Durham.
[151] The court of the Emperor Augustus.

The cowslips Mrs. Perceval asked for were PENURIOUS
doubtless intended for making that delicious but now LIVING
seldom met with cowslip wine. Few people are aware
that a claret glass of cowslip wine before going to bed is an innocent and
generally successful soporific.

To Mrs. Donnellan.

“Hayton, April 20, 1741.

“Dear Madam,
“I had the pleasure of your letter yesterday, it made me very happy.
If my friends at a distance did not keep my affections awake, I should be
lulled into a state of insensibility, divided as I am from all I love.... What’s
Cicero to me or I to Cicero? as Hamlet would say; and for myself, though
this same little, insignificant self be very dear unto me, yet I have not used
to make it my sole object of love and delight....
“I want just such a companion as you would be, and how happy would
your kind compliance with that wish make me, if the good old folk here
would accommodate you; but they are so fearful of strangers, I know it
impossible to persuade them to it. They are not very fine people; they have
a little estate, and help it out with a little farming: are very busy and careful,
and the old man’s cautionness has dwindled into penuriousness, so that he
eats in fear of waste and riot, sleeps with the dread of thieves, denies
himself everything for fear of wanting anything, riches give him no plenty,
increase no joy, prosperity no ease: he has the curse of covetousness to want
the property of his neighbours, while he dare not touch his own: the Harpy
Avarice drives him from his own meat, the sum of his wisdom and his gains
will be by living poor, to die rich....
“The reason for which you wish I would read Horace does me great
honour.... Upon your recommendation I had read it before, but depending
on my brother’s having it, I did not bring it with me, and I find he has not
got it. I will desire my brothers[152] to bring it down with them the next
vacation.... As for some of our squires they read nothing but parish law, and
books of Husbandry, or perhaps for their particular entertainment, ‘Quarle’s

Emblems,’ ‘The Pilgrim’s Progress,’ ‘Æsop’s Fables,’ and to furnish them
with a little ready wit, ‘Joe Miller’s Jests.’”[153]

[152] Matthew and Morris were at Cambridge.
[153] Joe Miller, born 1684, died 1738; comedian. His “Book of Jests” was
published in 1739.

Matthew Robinson had gone to Bath to drink the THE REV.
waters, and on April 19 he writes to Elizabeth from LAURENCE
STERNE
“Colibee’s” in Hall Street, Bath—

“Dear Sister,
“The order of our Posts at Bath is very strange, the post comes in
three times a week, twice of which you may answer your letters the same
day you receive them, but the third not till three days afterwards. Last
Thursday brought me two letters together from you, in which you informed
me that my sister was past the heighth.... I hope next post will tell me that
Sally is out of all danger.
“Harry Goddard is here, and informs me that our cousin Betty Lumley is
married to a Parson[154] who once delighted in debauchery, who is
possessed of about £100 a year in preferment, and has a good prospect of
more. What hopes our relation may have of settling the affections of a light
and fickle man I know not, but I imagine she will set about it not by means
of the beauty but of the arm of flesh. In other respects I see no fault in the
match; no woman ought to venture upon the state of Old Maiden without a
consciousness of an inexhaustible fund of good nature.”

The letter is signed “M. R. M.,” for Matthew Robinson Morris; as by his
uncle Morris Drake Morris’ will, Matthew was to succeed to his
mother’s[155] estate of Mount Morris, Kent, sometimes called Monk’s
Horton, etc., left her by her brother, he assumed the name of Morris for
some years, but returned to his family patronymic, Robinson, before
becoming 2nd Baron Rokeby in 1794.

[154] The Rev. Laurence Sterne, married to Elizabeth Lumley, March 30, 1741, in
York Cathedral, by license, by the then Dean.
[155] Mrs. M. Robinson, his mother, inherited Coveney, Cambs, from her father,
and the Kentish property as heiress of her mother, Sarah, daughter and heiress of
Thomas Morris.

On the subject of the Sterne marriage, in a note to MRS. STERNE
Sarah from Elizabeth we see further—

“Dear Madam Sally,
“I am glad to hear you are well, and that your eyes are brilliant, but
pray don’t use them too soon, for you will have reason to repent it. I never
saw a more comical letter than my sweet cousin’s,[156] with her heart and
head full of matrimony, pray do matrimonial thoughts come upon your
recovery? for she seems to think it a symptom.”

Then after many cautions to her sister as to her health, and thankfulness
at her being out of danger, she adds—

“Matt mentions Mrs. Sterne’s match, of which he had an account from
Harry Goddard, who is at Bath. Mr. Sterne has a hundred a year living, with
a good prospect of better preferment. He was a great rake, but being
japanned and married, has varnished his character. I do not comprehend
what my cousin means by their little desires, if she had said little stomachs,
it had been some help to their economy, but when people have not enough
for the necessaries of life, what avails it that they can do without the
superfluities and pomps of it? Does she mean that she won’t keep a coach
and six, and four footmen? What a wonderful occupation she made of
courtship that it left her no leisure nor inclination to think of any thing else.
I wish they may live well together.”

[156] Elizabeth Lumley had been very ill just before her engagement to Laurence
Sterne: vide his life by Traill.

At this time Sterne was Vicar of Sutton-on-the- “TRISTRAM”
[157]
Forest, some eight miles from York, and his
uncle, Jacob Sterne, gave him a prebendal stall in York Cathedral about the
same time. For two years he had courted Elizabeth Lumley. She was much
in love with him, but from smallness of means on either side, deemed
marriage imprudent. She, however, had a desperate illness, and informed
Sterne she had made him her heir. His gratitude for this, and affection,
recalled her to life and matrimony. For details of this I must refer the reader
to the various lives written of “Tristram,” as his nickname was to be later in
the Robinson family.

[157] His great-grandfather, Richard Sterne, had been Archbishop of York, and a
friend of Laud’s.

From Hayton Elizabeth writes to Mr. Freind at Bath, to scold him for not
writing to her and her sister. In this she says—

“My sister is well again, and once more I possess my soul with
tranquillity. I believe you will guess I suffered great and terrible anxiety
when I was forced to leave her to a dreadful distemper, whose terrors
received great additions from my particular fears of it, and tenderness to
her. The want of sleep, at first, a little damaged my constitution, I had a
slight fever with disorder for a week, which I believe was chiefly
occasioned by it. I did not mention it to my brother, for fear it should make
him uneasy, but I am now perfectly well, and from the reflection of my
sister’s good fortune, happy too, though great is the change you will see,
from London and lolling on the velvet sofa of a duchess, to humbly sitting
on a 3-legged cricket[158] in the country.”

[158] A three-legged stool.

At the end of the letter of an admirer of her’s she CURE FOR LOVE
says—

“Our friend B——[159] increases in chin and misery, he came to
breakfast with my Papa one morning, and complained of the Hyp, for which
my good parent advised him to take assafœtida, the prescription was
admirable, he might as well have sent him to the Tinker’s to have mended
the hole in his heart. Oh! cruel fate that made no cure for love, thought my
friend, and sighed bitterly: really I could not help laughing at the precious
balm my Pappa was for applying to the wound. It would have ruined a
happy lover with me.”

[159] Mr. Brockman, of Beachborough.

Letter from the Duke of Portland.

“Whitehall, April 25, 1741.

“Madam,
Since ye frivolous letters j trouble you with are ranked as favours
you receive, j’am sure no excuse can be made for any neglect towards you,
and it would, nay it does, make me wish ye post went out every day, yt j
might have it in my power to confer my favours, such as they are, upon
you: j’am not sure if vanity, as well as ye desire j have of doing all yt lays in
my power to oblige you, does not have a share in this wish about ye post,
for really j have reason to be proud yt a Lady of so many perfections as
Miss Robinson, (j can’t name them singly for j should never have done),
can sett any value upon my poor insignificant letters, tho’ your approving
them might puff up any body’s vanity, yett j have humility enough to think
that j owe all the favours you are pleased to show me, to ye subject j write
about; it is a subject yt you will be no more tired to hear off than j to write
off: then j am sure your next question will be, Pray my lord to ye subject:
well then in complyance to your commands j am to inform you yt ye
Duchess continues as well as can be, and ye Babe too. My wife desires me
to tell you yt your letter revived her exceedingly, yt she had waited with
great impatience for it, and yt she hopes to hear often from you. She, as
well as myself, rejoice at your sister’s recovery, and desire our compliments

to her. You may say everything yt is kind to yourself from my wife, and tho’
j am sure you have a very good genius in turning things as you like, you
will hardly outdo her sentiments concerning you. Your being got rid of your
feaver gave us great joy, for we began to be uneasy about Fidgett; nobody
can see her without admiration, and when one hears her open her lips one is
struck dumb; if one was to go on with everything when one receives a letter
from you, one’s fingers would become numbed, and unable to answer, was
it not for the desire of receiving more letters, makes one’s fingers to write to
engage you to answer. In reading your letter j can’t help acquainting you yt
there would be great strifes to be a Chaunticleer to be ye real possessor of
such a Dame Partlett as you, whether of ye favourite little Bantam kind, or
of the ruffled friesland kind; j should think the first more adapted to you for
its gentility and rarity and cleanliness, all qualifications, which, tho’ j am no
chanticleer j can sing off in your behalf. Nay j will do it. It is time for me to
finish my letter to you tho’ j do not conclude my letter with such a pompous
‘humble servant’ as you do, j hope you are thoroughly persuaded that j am
not less,
“Madam,
“Your most obedient, humble servant,
“Portland.”

Thomas Hudson. Pinx. Emery Walker Ph. Sc.

William, second Duke of Portland

The letter concludes with a long postscript; the duke had put the letter
into his pocket to give the porter himself, not wishing, he says, to trust “Mr.
Puff” with it, and forgot it for some days. Despite of all letters being sealed,
they were constantly tampered with, adroit incisions under the seals could
be made, and refastened without spoiling the impression above, and many
letters were lost entirely.
On April 27 occurs a most brotherly letter from MATTHEW
Matthew from Bath. It is too long to place here in ROBINSON —
A BROTHER’S
full, but so beautiful are his words to his sister, ADMIRATION
showing his love and admiration for her, that I give a
few extracts. He had just received a letter of her’s which pleased him, and
says—

“I should be ashamed after so long a friendship with you to be ignorant
of any of your talents, yet I do assure you there are some of them that after
so long an accquaintance with them, I have not yet done admiring. It is
never without great delight that I see in one whom I esteem so much, that
tho’ in company one would swear your parts and spirits were contrived
purposely for laughter, and the chearful round of mirth, yet study and
thought, contemplation of the ways of men, or works of Nature, and
consequently enjoyment of yourself, and ease and happiness, the end of all
good, never desert your leisure and retirement. You never had greater
reason for this turn of mind, or better trial of your temper on that account
than lately, when driven from your friends, and almost alone, in a manner
you never were before, and probably may never be again: you were fairly
left to the food and entertainment of your own thoughts; and though it
would be impertinent now to mention my general opinion of your letters, I
don’t remember that I ever saw your thoughts stamped upon a piece of
paper with greater force of discernment than in the letter I received from
you to-day.... Bating the tribe of your lovers, you cannot have a more hearty
friend to your person, or more assured admirer of your merit and
accomplishments.”

Surely few brothers have ever paid a more graceful tribute of praise to a
sister! Matthew was born in 1713, and was consequently seven years older
than Elizabeth.

On May 9, in a letter to Mr. Freind, we learn the THE SMALLPOX
two sisters had met again—

“I had the joy of seeing my dear Pea yesterday; I cannot express the
happiness of such a meeting, but it is saying enough to own it more than
recompensed the pangs of parting. It is truly, as well as poetically said, ‘The
heart can ne’er a transport know, that never felt a pain.’ My desire to be
cheered again by that beloved voice made me desirous of a meeting much
sooner than I should be otherwise, in my shameful fear of the distemper,
have desired. We talked about an hour in the open air, at about two yards’
distance: she kept her hat so close I could not see her face, but as soon as it
has nothing left of the distemper, but the redness, I am to see her. I am now
within sight of our house at a farm just at the bottom of the gates. I have a
very good room, warm and comfortable. It is so low that it flatters my pride
by indulging me with an approach to the ceiling. My Mamma had sent
furniture for the room from Mount Morris, as soon as my sister was
growing better, that I might come so near as to be accustomed to the family,
and so return to it at leisure without any apprehensions.”

Reproaching Mr. Freind for silence in this letter, he writes, May 19, in
return to plead his parochial duties, and amusingly says in defence—

“I am forced in the country, every week to make a sermon, at home or
abroad, however engaged, made it must be, and swallowed the next Sunday,
though I believe it lies but a crude morsel on the Blanketters’[160] Stomachs,
which, if they can digest, ’tis often more than I myself can do.... An express
arrived last night from Admiral Vernon; Carthagena was not actually taken,
but the captain who brings the news imagines it might be taken in about 12
hours after he left it. All the Spanish ships and galleons that were in the
Harbour were burnt, most of the fortifications battered down, enough to
discover there was great confusion in the town. Not a ship of ours was hurt
when he departed. But there is always a black flag attends in the train of
Victory; the general joy overcomes indeed all private concern; but those
who have friends or relations in the midst of a fire, cannot rejoice till they
hear who has escaped it. Those we lost on the 1st of April are Lord Aubrey
Beauclerc,[161] who had both legs shot off, and died presently, Col. Douglas
of the Marines had his head shot off, Lieutenant Sandford of Wentworth’s

Regiment was shot in his tent before the town, Col. Watson of the Artillery
was killed by a shot in the thigh, Capt. Moor was killed, Lieutenant Turvin
had just taken the Colours from his dead ensign, and was killed with them
in his hand (‘There’s honour for you,’ says Sir J. Falstaffe), 197 private men
are killed and wounded. I was glad to find my brother not mentioned in the
list.”

[160] It will be remembered Mr. Freind was Rector of Witney, the centre of
blanket-making.
[161] Son of 1st Duke of St. Albans, and grandson of Charles II.

Alas! in this he was premature, his brother-in-law, ST. LAZARE —
Henry Robinson, died of the wounds he received at A SOUTH SEA
LAWSUIT
the attack on St. Lazare, near Carthagena. May 12,
Mrs. Donnellan writes from London—

“We are squabbling about Elections, and proving right wrong, and
wrong right, just as we think it will make for some little private interest,
without the least regard to truth, justice, or any notion of the good of the
country. The Westminster Election was finished in a most partial manner on
Friday, in favour of the Court candidates, and Lord Sundon[162] was like to
be torn to pieces by the mob in revenge: this has been the subject of much
talk, and last night I happened to say to a clergyman (who I thought by his
gown was obliged to join with me), that I thought the dishonesty that
prevailed in Elections was terrible, and corrupted the private honesty in all
ranks of people, when my Parson to my surprise took up the argument that
bribery in a King and his Ministers was not dishonest, but politic, and that
we could not subsist without it, and ran on to prove that we must conform
to the times, and if my neighbour bribes, I must do so too, to be on a foot
with him or we must be undone. I own this doctrine shocks me....
“Your friend[163] told me yesterday they are a little disturbed about a law
suit which is to concern the 28th. I suppose you have heard of it. ’Tis an old
South Sea affair of the Father’s,[164] and very considerable. I am really

concerned about it, and shall long to see them out of such a terrible
situation.”

[162] William Clayton, Baron Sundon.
[163] Duchess of Portland.
[164] William Henry, 1st Duke of Portland.

Lady Mary Wortley Montagu
from a miniature in the possession of Mrs. Climenson

Emery Walker Ph. Sc.

At this period Elizabeth developed a most painful weakness of the eyes,
which recurred at intervals during the rest of her life. She attributed it to
reading so much at night during her absence from home while her sister was
ill. The duchess writes to implore her not to work, or read, and she answers,
“I follow your grace’s advice, I do not work at all, and I read by my sister’s
eyes.” She had commenced dining at Mount Morris, but they would not let
her go upstairs for fear of infection, so she still slept at the farm. Mr. Freind
had in his last letter said, “Let us know all about you; when you set sail, i.e.
when you are to be manned, and who is to be your Captain, for these things
surely must be settled now.” To which she answers—

“I am not going to set sail yet; the ocean of fortune is rough, the bark of
fortune light, the prosperous gale uncertain, but the Pilot must be smooth,
steady and content, patient in storms, moderate and careful in sunshine, and
easy in the turns of the wind, and changes of the times. Guess if these things
be easily found? and without such a guide can I avoid the gulph of
misfortune, the barking of envy, the deceits of the syrens, and the hypocrisy
of Proteus? So I wait on the shore, scarce looking towards this land of
promise, so few I find with whom I would risk the voyage. I would have
wrote you a longer letter, if I had a frank, but careful of your sixpence,
though regardless of your leisure, that consideration hinders me. I am at
Mount Morris again.”
“LIFE OF CICERO”
The duchess having commenced reading Dr.
Conyers Middleton’s “Life of Cicero,” Elizabeth recommends a pamphlet
called “Observations on Cicero,” written by Mr. Lyttelton,[165] but without
his name being prefixed to it. She states, “Dr. Middleton compliments it in
his preface slightly; it is as much a criticism as the Doctor’s is a panegyric
of Tully’s action: it is a very little book, but I think wrote with great spirit
and elegance.”

[165] George, afterwards Lord Lyttelton.

The following letter is from the Duchess of Portland early in June, but
undated:—
“Monday morning.

“My dearest Fidget,
“You will be much surprised to receive so melancholy a letter from
me after that strange medley you had last post, but yesterday morning I was
told the Doctor had no hopes of my Papa; he hurt his leg some time ago,
and Sergeant Dickens has had it in hand, and declared to Dr. Mead[166] he
would go on no longer without another surgeon was called in, upon which
Skipton was sent for, and what will be the result of their consultations to-
day I dread to know; he has besides a jaundice and dropsy. He was out

Friday night, and pretty well of Saturday night, and grew so much worse
yesterday morning that he is not able to move. The Doctor was surprised to
find such an alteration in a few hours. Oh! my dear Fidget, ’tis not possible
to flatter oneself, God only knows what is best for us, therefore I am
sensible I ought to be contented with what He is pleased to inflict upon us,
but I cannot help my natural weakness. I can’t see to add any more, my
heart and eyes are too full.”

[166] Famous physician, writer on medicine, and antiquarian.

Here Mrs. Donnellan adds, “I have but one sad DEATH OF THE
moment to tell my dear Fidget that my Lord EARL OF OXFORD

Oxford[167] died to-day.”

[167] He died in Dover Street, June 16, 1741.

The next letter from the duchess is dated June 25—

“My dearest Fidget,
“I owe you a thousand thanks for your kind letters, and if words
were the only acknowledgement I could make, I should ever be bankrupt,
but my affection is warm, and my fidelity will last as long as my life....
“He was sensible almost to the last, nor did not show the least regret at
leaving this troublesome world, except when he took leave of me, and that
was too moving a scene for me even to tell now.” ...

At the end she begs Elizabeth not to write to her, as her eyes were so
bad, but to get Sarah to do so instead, and in all her trouble remembers to
send two bottles of arquebusade to Matthew Robinson’s chambers which he
wanted, the price being 4s. 6d. a bottle.
Edward, 2nd Earl of Oxford, was the son of Robert, 1st Earl, by his first
marriage with Elizabeth Foley, sister of Thomas, 1st Lord Foley; he
continued to collect the Harleian MSS.,[168] begun by his father, now in the

British Museum, also innumerable books, pictures, medals, etc.; and took
great interest in all archæological studies, as did his countess.

[168] Lady Oxford sold the Harleian collection of manuscripts in 1753 to the
British Museum.

Elizabeth wrote to condole heartily with the duchess on her sad loss, but
imploring her, for the sake of the duke and her dear little children, to
endeavour to bear up under this sad blow, for father and daughter were
tenderly attached to each other.
The universal panacea of bleeding—for one can A ONE-HORSE
only judge by the manner in which doctors applied to CHAISE

it for every case—had been endured by Elizabeth for
the sake of her eyes, and she says “my eyes are worse for the bleeding.” She
had a narrow escape at this time: her brother Matthew driving her for her
health along the seashore on a high bank raised to keep off the incursion of
the sea, the horse bolted, but fortunately their servant outrider was able to
stop it without its bolting down either side of the bank. It is characteristic of
the times that she calls a one-horse chaise, “of all things the most
ridiculous!”
Mrs. Donnellan had been ill, and was ordered to Tunbridge Wells, to
drink the waters. There was hope of Dr. Young being there. “I believe you
will find his thoughts little confined to the place; he will entertain you with
conversation much above what one generally finds there, where they talk of
little but water, bread, butter, and scandal.”
On July 5 the duchess writes to say they had carried their cause in the
law suit. She also expresses her joy at hearing Matthew Robinson intended
to be inoculated that autumn. Elizabeth said if her eyes and general health
were better, she would be inoculated too. She had just been given, “by a
wise son of Æsculapius, a diabolical bolus that half killed me. I fainted
away about three hours after I swallowed the notable composition, and was
above an hour in such agony that if I had not waited for your letter I had
certainly gone to the Elysian fields.”

A letter of Mrs. Botham’s from Elford, of which place, as well as of
Yoxall, Staffordshire, her husband was Vicar, mentions a legacy left to her
and her sister, Mrs. Laurence Sterne—

“My husband is in the North; his journey thither happened very
opportunely, for an ancient woman whose very name I am a stranger to, has
lately dyed intestate, and my Sister and self are heirs at law of her real
estate, which consists of some houses at Leeds, the yearly value of them
about £60. It would be well for us if we could make out a title to her
personal estate, which is upwards of £5000, but that I have no hopes of.”
A WINDSOR
The duke and duchess were now at Bullstrode, HATTER
and anxious for Elizabeth to come to them. The
duchess gives an amusing account of a hatter’s funeral—

“A hatter of Windsor left £100 to a man on condition he would bury him
according to his desire under a mulberry tree in his own garden, 10 feet
deep. The assistants to drink 12 bottles of wine over his grave, and French
Horns playing during the whole ceremony, and this was accordingly
performed yesterday, to the great offence of Mr. Grosmith,[169] who says he
was not a Christian....
“To dissect leaves[170] put ’em into water, and change the water every
day, but you must take care the leaf is not blighted.”

[169] The clergyman.
[170] To skeletonize leaves.

Mrs. Donnellan writes on September 1 to say she has returned from
Tunbridge Wells after a six weeks’ visit; staying with her married sister,
Mrs. Clayton, and her husband, Robert Clayton, Bishop of Killala, and
afterwards of Clogher. The bishop very nobly gave his wife’s paternal
fortune to her sister, Anne Donnellan. Dr. Young was at Tunbridge, and
Mrs. Donnellan states—

“I conversed much with Doctor Young, but I had not enough to satisfy
me. We ran through many subjects, and I think his conversation much to my
taste. He enters into human nature, and both his thoughts and expressions
are new.”

She also mentions that Lady Thanet, accompanied THE SCOTTS OF
[171] SCOTT’S HALL
by Mrs. Scott, was at Tunbridge. Mrs. Scott, of
Scott’s Hall, Kent, was a friend of the Robinsons. She had a large family,
seven sons and seven daughters; one was lady-in-waiting to the Princess of
Orange, and married a Monsieur Saumaize, a member of the suite. Her
sister Caroline, or “Cally Scott” (her pet-name), was the bosom friend of
Sarah Robinson, and eventually married a Mr. Best. Another, Cecilia, who
died unmarried, was a friend to the Robinson family for life. To Mrs.
Donnellan Elizabeth writes on September 13, and in a long letter she says—

[171] The Scotts of Scott’s Hall were one of the most ancient Kentish families,
originally Balliols of Scotland.

“The time for my brother’s inoculation draws near, and though I have a
very good opinion of that method of having the smallpox, yet I cannot
enjoy a perfect tranquillity of mind till it is over. I would fain persuade him
to have it done while I am in the country, but he will not grant my request;
for my Pappa, I believe, will not let me go to Bullstrode at all, if I don’t go
before that is over; and my brother therefore waits for my departure, that I
may not be banished for six weeks or two months, which he imagines
would be melancholy for me these long evenings, as I should have no friend
with me, and am not able to divert myself with books now my eyes are
bad.”

The duchess was waiting for Lady Oxford’s departure from Bullstrode.
Lady Oxford is often alluded to as “the Speaker” by the duchess, the same
name, as has been mentioned, was bestowed on Mrs. Robinson by her
children. Elizabeth’s health being so indifferent, her parents wished her to
consult Dr. Mead, and early in October she proceeded to London with her
brother Tom, where she stayed a few days with Mrs. Donnellan in Bond

Street, and on October 13 joined her beloved friends at Bullstrode, the
duchess sending her coach to London to fetch her.
Matthew was to be inoculated as soon as the coach returned to Mount
Morris from taking Elizabeth to town, as, till the smallpox appeared, he was
to take the air daily in it; but the inoculation did not take, and Elizabeth’s
tender fears for her brother were allayed.
The next letter of interest is on October 20, to her MARRIAGE OF
mother— LORD SANDWICH

“I return you many thanks for your directions for the apron, which I will
carefully follow; as to the silver thread I do not approve the use of it, as all
great artists work for immortality, and my sister will find a little time will
tarnish her work if there is a mixture of silver in it.... I honour Lord
Sandwich[172] for his wise and generous contempt of money in a point in
which there are other things superior to it; he bears an excellent character,
there is much prudence in knowing how to separate one’s particular
happiness from that which is reckoned so in the world’s opinion: if Lord
Sandwich takes greater pleasure in the conversation of a fine woman than in
viewing a collection of medals and pictures, he is right to prefer Miss Dolly
Fane with £5000 to Miss Spinckes with £50,000.... He has a good estate
sufficient for the becoming state of a nobleman.... Miss Fane is a happy
woman to have a lover so great, so generous, and so good. Love has a good
right over the marriages of men, but not of women; for men raise their
wives to their ranks, women stoop to their husbands, if they choose below
themselves. I think all our neighbours are in a marrying humour. I wish
some of them had married two and twenty years ago, we should have had
now a gallant young neighbourhood.”

[172] John, 4th Earl Sandwich, whose nickname later was “Jemmy Twitcher,” just
engaged to Dorothy, daughter of Charles, 1st Viscount Fane.

Dr. Mead had prescribed for Elizabeth for her eyes and for a swelled lip,
which annoyed her much. What should we think of a blister applied to the
back to reduce a swelled lip in these days? Yet it was ordered! Writing to
Sarah, she says—

“I am better than I was, but my mouth not being yet perfectly reduced, I
have got a fresh blister upon my back, well may it bend with such a weight
of calamities.... I have sent for my bathing Cloaths, and on Sunday night
shall take a souze. I think it a pleasant remedy. I am to sit a quarter of an
hour in the bath, and then go to bed and lye warm; it is to be repeated three
times a week.”
DUCAL BATHS!
The next letter to her mother throws a curious
light on the personal cleanliness of the day, and the want of baths in a ducal
house—

“November 6, 1741.

“Madam,
“I should write to you much oftener, if I was able, but really I am
so taken up with the pursuit of health I have little time for other
employments. My lip is not entirely reduced, though I have been blistered
twice, once blooded, and have five times taken physick, have lived upon
chicken and white meats, and drank nothing but water; however, I am now
vastly better than I was, and have hardly any pimples in my face, and no
complaint in my eyes or nose, only this abominable lip is still rather bigger
than it used to be. I intend to keep the blister going till it is well, for Mr.
Clarke has put me in a way of doing it, so that I do not suffer much. I have
suffered great disappointment about the warm bath, which I am advised to
try, for the bathing tubs are so out of order we have not yet been able to
make them hold water, but I hope next week they will serve the purpose.” ...

At the end of the letter is this: “Mary brings me word my bathing tub[173]
is ready for use; so to-morrow I shall go in. Pray look for my bathing dress,
till then I must go in in chemise and jupon!” Evidently from this it was not
considered proper to go into a bath, even in a bedroom, au naturel!

[173] Before tin baths came into use, I remember my father bathing in a wooden
tub, which resembled a wheelbarrow without legs or wheels, but with two handles
at each end. It took two maids to empty it.

Another light on domestic service of the day is THE NEW LADY’S-
given in the next letter to Sarah. For some reason MAID —
A MICROSCOPE
Elizabeth had a new lady’s-maid, and it appears from
this and other letters that a superior class of persons officiated in that
capacity. Many a clergyman’s daughter was glad to be lady’s-maid or
housekeeper in those days—

“I like my maid extreamly; she is very humble, sensible, quick and
diligent, and though her Father and Mother are above the common rate, she
has never presumed to hint she was a person of fashion, which the French
generally brag of. Mrs. Hog[174] (ye ladies’ French woman), tells me Mr.
Dufour was a scarlet Dyer, worth once five or six thousand pounds, and
Mrs. Dufour had about £1600 for her fortune, but by the knavery of a
partner in their trade, they were reduced. I think Mary works pretty quick,
and washes well, and is very handy, and she talks much better French than
Dulac.
“I am reading Dr. Swift’s and Mr. Pope’s letters. I like them much, and
find great marks of friendship, goodness and affection between these people
whom the world is apt to think too wise to be honest, and too witty to be
affectionate, but vice is the child of folly, rather than of wisdom; and for
insensibility of heart, like that of the head, it belongeth unto fools. Lord
Bolingbroke’s letters shine much in the collection. We are reading Dr.
Middleton’s new edition[175] of his letter from Rome, but have not yet come
to the postscript to Warburton;[176] the answer to the Roman Catholic is full,
and I doubt not the Protestant will be as happily silenced. Truth will
maintain its ground against all opposition.
“We expect Mr.[177] and Mrs. West, and then we shall have the house
full. We are in hopes of Dr. Young; he is now at Welling sowing spiritual
things in his parish, I hope to the increase of grace.
“The sun will not shine for our microscope,[178] which is a great
vexation to the curious. Last night by the candle I saw a fringe upon a leaf,
that would have done excellently well for your apron, and I dare say you are
so excellently skilled in the imitation of Nature that you could work just
like it if you had the materials.”

[174] French maid to the duchess’s little girls.
[175] “Letters on the Use and Study of History.”
[176] William Warburton, D.D., Bishop of Gloucester, friend of Pope; able
controversial writer; born 1698, died 1779.
[177] Gilbert T. West, LL.D., born 1706, died 1756; poet and writer; translated
“Pindar.”
[178] Mr. Achard’s microscope.

In the next letter to Sarah she says—

“The Muses, fair ladies and Mr. Lyttelton,[179] a fine gentleman, will
entertain you in my absence d’esprit: the verses were wrote at Lord
Westmorland’s. I think the verses are pretty; either I am very partial to the
writer, or Mr. Lyttelton has always something of an elegance and
agreeableness in all his verses, let the subject be ever so trifling.... Does the
world want odd people, or do we want strange cousins that the Sternes must
increase and multiply? No folly ever becomes extinct, fools do so establish
posterity!”

[179] George, afterwards Lord Lyttelton.

As the Sternes’ eldest child, the first Lydia, was not born till 1745, there
must have been a disappointment; but though undated, this letter is of 1741,
as allusion is made to Matthew Robinson’s inoculation, which had just
taken place.
“We are reading ‘Cibber’s Life.’[180] Was there “CIBBER’S LIFE”
ever so exquisite a coxcomb!”

[180] Cibber’s “Apology for his Life,” published this year; he did not die till
1757, but published his “Apology” in 1740.

November 11, a letter contains—

“Last night being the birthday of the noble Admiral Vernon, we drank
his health at noon, and celebrated the same with a ball at night. The ‘Gun
Fleet’ was danced in honour of him, and all celebrated with extream joy,
and a splendid distribution of Crowns to the fiddler, who was not the son of
Orpheus, but however he made such a difference between tit-for-tat and a
minouet, that one might understand which he meant. Mademoiselle
Dufour[181] had the honour of standing up instead of a flower-pot or an
elbow-chair; she danced like the daughter of Herodias.”

[181] Her French attendant; see ante.

To Mrs. Donnellan, who had been ill, but was recovering, this
description of Dr. Young[182] is addressed—

“We have lost our divines, whose company we regret; there is great
pleasure in conversing with people of such a turn as Dr. Young and Dr.
Clarke;[183] for the first there is nothing of speculation, either in the Terra
Firma of Reason, or the Visionary province of fancy, into which he does not
lead the imagination. In his conversation he examines everything,
determines hardly anything, but leaves one’s judgment at liberty. The other
goes far into a subject, and seldom leaves the conclusion of an argument
unfinished; he seems to me to have a very accurate judgment, and a very
attentive observation of everything that comes within his view, and thus
with the assistance of a happy memory, he has laid up a great stock of
knowledge and experience.”

[182] Dr. Young lost his wife this year, 1741.
[183] Dr. W. Clarke, died 1771; divine and writer.

Mrs. Donnellan mentions on November 15 a MECHANICAL
mechanical chair she is to have for exercise— CHAIR

“An artist is to bring me home a machine[184] for galloping and trotting
this day; if I could get him to make me one that could move me from one
place to another, with how much pleasure could I mount my chariot to make
you a visit.... London is as full now as it used to be in January. Plays are
much frequented, both to see Barbarini dance, and a new actress from
Ireland, her name is Woffington,[185] ... she excels in men’s parts, and is to
act ‘Sir Harry Wildair’ next Monday, by the King’s commands, and all the
world goes. We poor Irish run the gauntlet about her; we hear in many
companys, ‘She has a great deal of Irish assurance.’ I desired it should be
called Stage assurance.
“Handel[186] next week has a new opera, which those who have heard
the rehearsal say is very pretty. Tell Pen the ‘Lion Song’ is in it....
“I hear the Duke of Portland is to have a Blue Garter, which I am
extremely glad of, as I think ’tis fit and proper.”

[184] Called a “Merlin Chair,” from the inventor, for mechanical exercise.
[185] Margaret Woffington, born 1718, died 1760; celebrated actress and friend
of Garrick.
[186] Does she mean “The Messiah,” which he produced this year, but which at
first was not appreciated?

To this letter Elizabeth replies—

“The date of your letter from London is the strongest temptation to me
to wish myself there, that you could lay before me: as for Plays and the
Beau monde, I hardly wear vanity enough in the country, to wishing myself
once more in—

“‘The dull farce, the empty show
Of Powder, pocket glass and Beau.’

“I know your town is the Kingdom of Cards, and the Reign of
Mattadores I am disaffected to; here I enjoy all the pleasures of friendship,
and the satisfaction of tranquillity....

“I hope you will find great benefit by your machine; if you will appoint
a time for your imagination to take a flight, I will mount the Marquis of
Lichfield’s Hobby Horse, and give you a meeting. Imagination gives
Pegasus wings, and he often flies into the undiscovered country of fancy.”
MRS.
Mrs. Donnellan writes again on December 1 to WOFFINGTON
say she and her sister, Mrs. Clayton, had been to two
plays in one week—

“One of our plays was to see Mrs. Woffington perform the part of ‘Sir
Harry Wild-air,’[187] and indeed I never saw anything done with more life
and spirit; but at the same time she looked too young, too handsome, and
her voice seemed more proper for Opera than the play; so that we see when
things are out of nature, though they may have many beauties, in the whole
they will not please, and a beard and a deep voice are as proper to make a
man agreeable, as a soft voice and smooth face to a woman.”

[187] From the play of The Constant Couple.

The next letter of interest is of December 12, to THE DUCHESS OF
Mrs. Robinson, from Elizabeth— MARLBOROUGH

“Madam,
“It is long since I have had the pleasure of writing to you, for
though I have much inclination to do so, I have little leisure. I am now
coming on you with a great deal of news from the city of our Great King.
The Parliament is all in a flame, the Court have had but a majority of seven.
There is a great struggle between Giles, Earle, and Dr. Lee, which shall be
for the Committees. The city is in great alarm that they are going to lose six
hundred thousand pounds out of Leghorn, which it is expected will be
taken, and the Port lost to our merchants.
“Now as to private affairs, it is reported the Dowager Duchess of
Marlborough[188] is dead, that she departed last night, and no one weeps for
her to-day. Extravagance will lavish away those treasures her avarice

accumulated.... I am not sure the report is true, though private letters and
public papers do affirm that the spirit of pride, avarice, and ambition have
stolen from her as quietly as the common breath of the nostrils....”

[188] Sarah Jennings, born 1660, died 1744.

The duchess did not die then, as will be seen by the next letter to the
same person. This was the illness when the doctor told her, unless she was
blistered, she would die, when she cried, “I won’t be blistered, and I won’t
die!” And she did not, for she lived till 1744!

“December 19, 1741.

“Madam,
“I believe the wars abroad, and tumults at home, will make the
publick papers worth reading. Dr. Lee has carried his Election by four, the
Court is concerned at it. The King[189] suspended even his dinner (an action
of as great importance as any done in the reigns of some Monarchs) till this
affair between Dr. Lee and Earle was determined. The Westminster Election
will now be carried against the Court. It is thought Lord Percival will
undoubtedly be chosen at the new Election. The friends of Sir R——[190]
lament that now he will not be able to carry any of the petitions, but where
the right is on his side, and which, too, is looked upon by them as an
unfortunate thing for the Kingdom in general.
“The Duchess of Marlborough is not dead yet, but in great danger; she
has St. Anthony’s fire to a terrible degree, and will have no advice but such
as her apothecary gives her. To Mr. Spencer[191] she has bequeathed in her
will £30,000 a year, in addition to what he has already. The Duchess of
Manchester[192] she has struck out. How the rest of her enormous fortune is
disposed of people do not know.
“We lost two of our Divines to-day, Dr. Young and the Dean of Exeter,
men of very different genius, but both agreeable companions.”

[189] George II.

[190] Sir Robert Walpole, Prime Minister, born 1676, died 1745.
[191] Her grandson.
[192] Her eldest granddaughter.

The next is to Sarah, December 22, and in it is— CZARINA
ELIZABETH

“I don’t know whether you have heard of the Revolutions in Russia, that
the Princess Eliza[193] is made Czarina; the Czar, his Mother, Munich and
Lacy imprisoned, and all by the power of France, and the machinations of
General Keith.[194] This is bad news for poor England. The members of
Parliament of the country party are gone to their firesides to roast chestnuts,
while the Court get the uppermost again. The Prince’s affair is to come
before the House very soon: it is a shame that he[195] has no settlement.”

[193] Elizabeth Petrowna, born 1709, died 1761; daughter of Peter the Great.
[194] Field-Marshal Keith, born 1696, died 1758.
[195] Frederick, Prince of Wales, born 1707, died 1751.

Two letters of December 26 and December 31 to THE REV. JOHN
Sarah wind up the year. In the first she mentions that BOTHAM

the move from Bullstrode to London was to take
place on January 3, and she was to return to Mount Morris on the 5th. In
passing through London she should visit Mrs. Cotes,[196] who was a bosom
friend of hers and Sarah. A little paragraph occurs about Mrs. Botham, Mrs.
Sterne’s sister—

“Mrs. Botham is at Elford with Lady Andover, which I am glad of, for
poor Lydia has a taste for conversation above the hum-drum mediocrity of
her husband’s understanding. He has a very good pulpit drone, and gives
the whole parish an excellent nap every Sunday with his sermonical
lullaby.”

[196] Wife of Dr. Cotes, of Wimbledon, sister of Henry, Viscount Irvine, born
1691, died 1761.

“December 31, 1741.

“My dear Sister,
“This day did not begin with the auspicious appearance of a letter
from you; I am glad it is not the first day of the New Year, for I might have
been superstitious upon it. I hope you kept your letter back a day on
purpose to welcome in the coming year. I wish it may be our lot ever to find
the next bring us what the last wanted. But alas! time steals the most
precious pleasures from us. Our life is like a show that has passed by, leaves
but a track that makes remembrance and reflection rugged, a mark is worn
for ever where the gay train of pleasures pass’d swiftly by, and observation
is much longer displeased than ever it was delighted. I am loth to part with
an old year as with an old acquaintance, not that I have to it the gratitude
one has to a Benefactor, or the affection one bears to a friend. I am, I fear,
neither better nor richer than it found me, but we lived easy together, and
not knowing whether I shall have the acquaintance of many years, I could
be willing to stop this. I have one obligation to it that I rate highly, that it
has ensured you from the danger of smallpox. This year too has allowed us
many happy months together. I hope all that are behind for me design the
same, else they will come unwelcome, and depart unregretted.... This day
sennight I shall be with you and the good family at Horton, telling a
‘Winter’s tale’ by the fireside! Oh that we were all to meet then, that once
graced that fireside, even the goodly nine,[197] and thanking my Father and
Mother for all the life they imparted to us, and have since supported! I hope
the flock is safe and our meeting reserved for some of the golden days of
fate.”

Thomas Robinson, the second brother, had this year brought out his
celebrated legal book, entitled “Common Law of Kent, or the Customs of
Gavel Kind, with an appendix concerning Borough English,” to this day a
well-referred-to book. In 1822 a third edition was published, and another in
1858, revised by J. D. Norwood. Thomas was of Lincoln’s Inn, was
admitted April 14, 1730. The “National Biography” states he was never

called to the Bar, which must be a mistake, as there is frequent mention of
his pleading cases at Canterbury and elsewhere in the manuscripts.

[197] The nine Robinsons, brothers and sisters.

1742
NEW YEAR’S DAY
This year opens with a letter to Mrs. Donnellan, a
portion of which I copy—

“Bullstrode, January 1, 1742.

“Dear Mrs. Donnellan,
“Though there is no day of the year in which one does not wish all
happiness to one’s friends, this is the particular day in which the heart goes
forth in particular vows and wishes for the welfare of those it loves. It is the
birth of a new year, whose entrance we would salute, and hope auspicious;
nor is this particular mark of time of little use: it teaches us to number our
days, which a wise man thought an incitement to the well spending them;
and, indeed, did we consider how much the pleasure and profit of our lives
depends upon an economy of our time, we should not waste it as we do, in
idle repentance, or reflection on the past, or a vain unuseful regard for the
future. In youth we defer being prudent till we are old, and look forward to
a promise of wisdom as the portion of latter years: when we are old we seek
not to improve, and scarce employ ourselves; looking backward to our
youth as to the day of our diligence, and take a pride in laziness, saying we
rest as after the accomplishment of our undertakings; but we ought to ask
for our daily merit, as for our daily bread. The mind, no more than the body,
can be sustained by the food taken yesterday, or promised for to-morrow.
Every day ought to be considered as a period apart, some virtue should be
exercised, some knowledge improved, and the value of happiness well
understood, some pleasure comprehended in it; some duty to ourselves or
others must be infringed if any of these things are neglected....
“I beg of you to reserve Monday morning for me, and I will spend it all
with you; on Tuesday I set out for Mount Morris, and on Sunday night
Pen[198] desires you to be at her house. I hope to return to you in the

beginning of March for between two and three months. Our happy society
is just breaking up, but I will think of it with gratitude, and not with regret,
and thank Fate for the joyful hours she lent me....
“This year does not promise me much pleasure as the last has afforded
me here, but the fairest gifts of fate come often unexpected.”

[198] Mrs. Pendarves.

This sentence was, had she known it, prophetic, LORD GEORGE
for this very year was to furnish her with an excellent BENTINCK

and loving husband, a position of importance, and a
plentiful fortune. In a letter to Sarah at this period mention is made by
Elizabeth of Lord George Bentinck (the duke’s uncle) having been ill, and
the means taken for his recovery!—

“Lord George is much better than he was, and Drs. Mead and Sandys
have not determined whether it is gout. I hope it is not; he has been blooded
forty ounces within this week, and they say looks as florid as ever!”
NORTHFLEET FAIR
Elizabeth now left the duchess, joining her sister,
who was in town with her friend, Mrs. Cotes, and writes to her beloved
duchess from Sittingbourne, their halting-place en route home. In this letter
she says—

“When I arrived at Northfleet, where we dined, every Phillis and
Corydon were at a fair in the town, and to enter into the humours of the
place, I walked through it. In one booth were nymphs and swains buying
garters, with amorous posies, some only with the humble request, ‘When
these you see, remember me’; others with a poetical and more familiar ‘Be
true to me, as I’m to thee.’ Under another booth, for the pleasure of bold
British youths, was Admiral Vernon in gingerbread; indeed he appeared in
many shapes there, and the curate of the parish carried him home in a brass
tobacco stopper. I was a little concerned to see him lying in passive
gingerbread, upon a stall with Spanish nuts; but the politicians of our age
are wonderful in reconciling the interest of nations. I assure you there was a

great deal of company; many hearts did I see exchanged for fairings of
cherry-coloured ribbon; and one Cymon more polished than the rest,
presented his damsel with a fan, with the intent, I presume, not to give
‘coolness to the matchless Dame.’”

Of politics and the opposition to Sir Robert Walpole, we now gain a
glimpse in a letter of Mrs. Donnellan’s of January 14 to Elizabeth—

“It is certainly believed that the King has sent an offer of a
reconciliation, and that tempter gold, to the Prince[199] by the Bishop of
Oxford,[200] whose answer was that while Sir Robert, who he apprehended
had raised his Majesty’s resentment against him, was at Court, he could not
appear there, but that if he was removed, he would fly without any other
conditions but to have the happiness of throwing himself at his Majesty’s
feet.”

[199] Frederick, Prince of Wales, then on very bad terms with his father.
[200] Thomas Secker, born 1693, died 1768; afterwards Archbishop of
Canterbury.

The duchess, writing on January 23, says, “Sir SIR ROBERT
Robert carried the question by three votes.” WALPOLE

In the same letter she says, “I am just come from Court, where I saw
your incomparable cousin kiss hands for the government of Barbadoes; now
he certainly goes, I will pay my civilities to him in hopes of getting some
shells!” This was Sir Thomas Robinson,[201] who, having almost ruined
himself with his improvements at Rokeby, and his enormous and frequent
entertainments, applied for the governorship on economic reasons, and
continued governor till 1747.

[201] “Long” Sir Thomas Robinson, as he was called to distinguish him from
another baronet of the same name. See note at end of book on him.

On February 4 the duchess writes in bad spirits to “Fidget”; the duke
was ill with the gout, and her little girl, Lady Fanny, had had a convulsion
fit, for which “she was blistered and blooded within 12 hours:” drastic
treatment for an unfortunate infant not a year old! In this letter we read—

“The King sent Sir Robert word that he had no more orders for him, and
that he must resign, but that he made him Earl of Orford. Others report that
upon his losing the election of Bainton, Rolt, and Sir Edmund Thomas, he
went to the King and told him the current ran so strongly against him he
could no longer be of service to him, but that he would come into the House
of Lords. Lord Wilmington[202] is to act as first Lord of the Treasury till
affairs are settled. It is said the Duke of Richmond[203] has given up, that Sir
William Young and Winnington are to be turned out, Harry Pelham to be the
Chancellor of the Exchequer, and there is a patent drawing for Miss
Walpole[204] to take the place of Lord Orford’s daughter.”

[202] Earl of Wilmington, died 1743.
[203] Charles, 2nd Duke.
[204] Miss Skerrit, illegitimate daughter of Sir Robert.

Emery Walker Ph. Sc.

Sir Thomas Robinson (1st. Baron Rokeby)

On February 9 Mrs. Pendarves writes the LORD ORFORD
following:—

“Clarges Street, February 9, 1742.

“My dear Miss Robinson will think me very dilatory in obeying her
commands, but the uneasy situation I have been in, surrounded by sick
friends[205] and servants, must make an excuse for me.
“Burnet,[206] I hope is safe on your table, and has by this time given you
some entertainment.
“As for the fringe it should have been sent to you sooner, could I have
found it, but it was buried under such a variety of rubbish it was like
digging in a mine to find it. Don’t let these delays discourage you from
making use of me again, for no one can take more pleasure in being your
humble servant than I do. This is asserting a bold truth, and would draw on
me numbers of challenges, if I published it. I should not be afraid of
accepting the combat where my cause was so good. Our letters crost on the
road. Your observation on retirement is very just, and all your thoughts
show the good use you make of Retirement; but I wish for my own sake to
draw you out of it. I am not so unreasonable as to expect to hear often from
you. I can’t justly make that demand, but if you were in town I should
endeavour to have a great deal of your company; let me know when I may
hope to see you. At present I can give you no very inviting reason for
coming; as to the entertainments of the place, all parties are out of humour;
everybody conjectures something; nobody knows anything, but that Sir
R(obert) W(alpole) kissed hands yesterday as Lord Orford, and his daughter
as Lady Mary, that he resigned yesterday, and goes to Houghton in a few
days. His faithful services to his King are well rewarded. I have been
interrupted by two favourites of yours, Lord Cornbury and Mrs. Donnellan,
and to recommend them still stronger to your favour, they have prevented
your having a dull long letter. I send the fringe enclosed; if I wait till my
spirit is more alert you may want your apron, and think I have quite
neglected your orders. I will run any hazard rather than give you just cause
to complain of me, and am with great sincerity,
“My dear Fidget,
“Yours most faithfully,
“M. P.
“P.S.—My sister desires her best compliments, mine attends yours, and
all your family.”

[205] Mrs. D’Ewes, her sister, and Sir John Stanley, her uncle, had been ill.
[206] Bishop Burnet’s “History of the Reformation.”

On February 11 the duchess writes— THE DUCHESS OF
NORFOLK’S
MASQUERADE
“Great changes have been wrought to-day, Mr.
Sandys has kissed hands as Chancellor of the Exchequer, Lord Carteret,[207]
is to be Secretary of State,[208] Lord Harrington, President of the Council,
Mr. Pulteney[209] and Lord Winchelsea[210] are to go to Court to-morrow;
and all affairs are to be transacted by the advice of Pulteney and Pelham.
Lord Cobham[211] has hindered the Prince coming to Court, but it is to be
hoped he will be persuaded to the contrary. The Duchess of Norfolk is to
have a masquerade next Wednesday, so that I am in the greatest of hurrys to
get ready. I am to be ‘Night.’”

[207] Afterwards Earl Granville, born 1690, died 1763.
[208] William, 1st Earl, born 1690, died 1756.
[209] Afterwards Earl of Bath, born 1684, died July 8, 1764.
[210] Daniel, 8th Earl, born 1689, died 1769.
[211] Sir Richard Temple, made Baron Cobham, born 1669, died 1749.

On the same day Mrs. Donnellan writes that—

“The Duchess of Norfolk’s[212] masquerade employs the gay world as
much at present as the Court places does the ambitious. The Duchess, Lady
Andover, and Pen have their tickets, poor Dash[213] fears she will not have
one. The Duchess is to represent ‘Night,’ and you know she has stars to
adorn it, and make it bright as day. Lady Andover and Pen are to be dressed
after Holler’s Prints. I have desired they make this house their place of
meeting, and shall desire the same of all my acquaintance, which will give
me all I care for of a masquerade.”

[212] Wife of 9th Duke, née Mary Blount.
[213] “Delia” Dashwood.

Another peep at the masquerade is gained by a letter from “Cally” Scott
to the two Robinson sisters—

“The Princess of Wales[214] was the finest figure that ever was seen; she
had a vast number of jewels, and was in Queen Elizabeth’s dress: the
Duchess of Portland’s was very odd and pretty, her upper part was night,
and the lower moonshine.”

[214] Augusta of Saxe Gotha, wife of Frederick, Prince of Wales.

The duchess writes early in February— SIR HANS SLOANE

“My dearest Fidget,
“Though I shall have the pleasure of seeing you soon, yet I can’t
help conversing with you as often as it is in my power. I am but just come
from Sir Hans Sloane’s,[215] where I have beheld many odder things than
himself, though none so inconsistent: however, I will not rail, for he has
given me some of his trumpery to add to my collection, and till I get better
they shall remain there....
“The Duchess of Marlborough’s Memoirs[216] are come out. I long to
read ’em, and hear she has given my grandfather a character, entirely
worthy of herself, to show posterity how very different they were in all
circumstances of life. If she makes her character to answer his, she has
given him a great foil which his virtue did not require. Swift’s ‘Four last
years of Queen Anne’[217] are coming out. I don’t hear they are yet printed.”

[215] Eminent physician and naturalist, born 1660, died 1753; then living at
Bushington House, Chelsea.

[216] Her “Account of her Conduct.” Mr. N. Hooke helped her to write it this
year.
[217] Was not printed till 1758.

Elizabeth now went to London, and in February HOUSE OF LORDS
writes this interesting letter to her father in Kent—

“Sir,
“I thought it would be agreeable to you to have an account of the
mighty and important proceedings of both houses yesterday, so I have sent
you the question, which was debated in both Houses with a good deal of
warmth. It was brought into the House of Lords by Lord Carteret,[218] who
spoke two hours in opening. Lord Carlisle and Lord Westmorland spoke
with great warmth, and Lord Carlisle[219] was very bitter. Lord Halifax[220]
seconded Lord Carteret. Lord Talbot said in answer to the Duke of
Marlborough’s motion (that it might be voted that an attempt to inflict any
kind of punishment, etc., etc.) that he would not say that all persons were
interested that spoke in favour of Sir Robert, that they appeared to be so,
and upon being called to order, he said with heat that he was used to speak
truth, and he did believe (by the most sacred oath) that they were so, and
that he was ready to give any man satisfaction that would require it. All
moderate men voted with the majority in both Houses. Lord Cornbury and
Mr. Harley spoke in favour of Sir R.: the latter said that though Sir R. had
pursued a relation[221] of his without evidence, and caused his
imprisonment, and thereby the shortening of his life, he could not, as he had
differed from him in all his measures, copy him in that, and so withdrew
with his brother and many others who had great disobligations to the
Member. Mr. Skipper would not vote against the great man, for it seems
there was no proof nor evidence of the accusations. I think the majority was
290 against 190 in the House of Commons. Many of the Country interest
did not vote at all; they did not break up till three. The House of Lords at
one o’clock in the morning. Mr. Sandys[222] opened very well, and Mr.
‘Ste’-Fox[223] spoke on the other side extremely well. I may by the next
post, be able to give you a further account of the matter, but this is all I have
yet heard, for the Members of Parliament are half asleep to-day.

“I am, Sir,
“Your most dutiful, etc.”

[218] John, 2nd Baron Carteret, afterwards Earl Granville.
[219] 7th Earl of Carlisle.
[220] 5th Earl of Halifax.
[221] Alluding to the impeachment and imprisonment of Robert Harley, 1st Earl
of Oxford.
[222] Afterwards 1st Lord Sandys of Ombersley.
[223] Father of 1st Baron Holland.

On the other side of this folio letter, in another THE HOUSE’S
handwriting, is the Question— ADDRESS

“The House was moved that an humble Address be presented to his
Majesty, most humbly to advise and beseech his Majesty that he will be
most graciously pleased to Remove the Right Honble. Sir Robert Walpole,
Kt. of the most noble order of the Garter, first Commissioner of his
Majesty’s Treasury, and Chancellor of the Exchequer, and one of his
Majesty’s Most Honourable Privy Council, from his Majesty’s Presence and
Councils for ever,
“And a question being stated thereupon after long Debate,
“The Question was put, whether such an address shall be presented to
his Majesty.
“It was resolved in the Negative. Contents 47, Proxies 12: 59. Not
Contents 89, Proxies 19: 108.
“Then it was likewise moved that an attempt to inflict any kind of
Punishment on any Person without allowing him an opportunity to make his
defence, or without proof of any crime or misdemeanor committed by him,
is contrary to natural Justice, the fundamental Laws of this Realm, and by
ancient established usage of Parliament, and is a high infringement of the
Liberties of the Subject. After further debate, The Previous Question being
put, whether that Question shall now be put?
“It was resolved in the Affirmative.

“Then the Main Question was put, and it was resolved in ye Affirmative.
Contents 81, Not Contents 54.”
THE OPERA —
Elizabeth, in a letter to the Rev. William Freind, GARRICK
gives us an insight into the Opera of that period—

“I was at the Opera on Saturday night, where was all the world. I was
very well diverted between the Opera and the Audience, or I ought rather to
say the Spectators, for they came to see and not to hear. I heard the Elephant
was the finest thing in the Opera, but that was contradicted, and the burning
of the Temple was preferred to it. To accommodate everything to the
absurdity of the Town, the dancing is rendered more ridiculous and
grotesque than ever. I was thinking if the Court of Augustus could have
seen the polite part of our nation, admiring a wooden Elephant, with two
lamps stuck for eyes, and poor Scipio and Asdrubal could have risen to
have seen themselves covered with silver spangles, and quavering an Italian
Air, what an honest indignation and scorn would they have conceived at
us....
“My Sister Pea is abroad; I am confined again by a little feverishness. I
thought as it was a London fever it might be polite, so I carried it to the
Ridotto, Court, and Opera, but it grew so perverse and stubborn, so I put it
into a White Hood and double handkerchief, and kept it by the fire these
three days, and it is better; indeed I hope it is worn out. On Saturday I
intend to go to Goodman’s Fields to see Garrick[224] act Richard III.: that I
may get one cold from a regard to sense, I have sacrificed enough to folly in
catching colds at the Great Puppet Shows in town.
* * * * *
“I must tell you advice is to me this morning, that Anson[225] had taken
three Ships laden with silver, and is going to Chagre, and from thence to
Panama; Vernon and Wentworth are to go with him, and Trelawney is to
accompany them to reconcile their resolutions.”

[224] David Garrick, born 1716, died 1779. Made his first appearance on the
stage in 1741.
[225] Admiral Lord Anson, born 1697, died 1762. Eminent naval commander.

At this period Morris Robinson lost his beloved college friend, a Mr.
Carter, a most promising youth, from smallpox. Morris attended him until
his death, and was almost inconsolable for his loss.

CHAPTER IV.
ENGAGEMENT AND EARLY MARRIED LIFE.

I have made but few allusions to Elizabeth’s love triumphs, but as the time
approaches when she was to make her final choice, I must now allude to
them. There was a certain “Mr. B.,” from what I can gather a Mr.
Brockman, of Beechborough, a fine place near Mount Morris, who had
been desperately in love with her for some time; he is frequently alluded to
in the family letters. In one to Sarah at this period Elizabeth says—

“Poor Mr. B. really takes his misfortunes so to heart that he is literally
dying, indeed I hear he is very ill, which I am sorry for, but I have no
balsam of heartsease for him, if he should die I will have him buried in
Westminster Abbey next the woman that died of a prick of a finger, for it is
quite as extraordinary, and he shall have his figure languishing in wax, with
‘Miss Robinson, fecit,’ wrote over his head; upon my word I compassionate
his pains, and pity him, but as I am as compassionate, I am as cold too as
Charity. He pours out his soul in lamentations to his friends, and ‘all but the
nymph that should redress his wrong, attend his passion and approve his
song,’ for the Rhyme will have it so. I am glad he has such a stock of flesh
to waste upon. Waller says that—

“‘Sleep from careful Lovers flies
To bathe himself in Sacharissa’s eyes.’”

A certain captain, name unknown, also inveigled LOVERS
the Rev. William Freind to a coffee-house to talk two
hours by the clock of Miss Elizabeth Robinson’s perfections. About this
Elizabeth writes to Mr. Freind—

“I am very sorry if the poor man is really what you think, unhappy; if his
case is uneasy I am sure it is desperate; complaint I hope, is more the
language, than misery the condition, of lovers. To speak ingenuously you
men use us oddly enough, you adore the pride, flatter the vanity, gratify the
ill-nature, and obey the tyranny that insults you; then slight the love,

despise the affection, and enslave the obedience that would make you
happy: when frowning mistresses all are awful goddesses, when submissive
wives, despicable mortals. There are two excellent lines which have made
me ever deaf to the voice of the charmer, charm’d he ever so sweetly—

“‘The humblest Lover when he lowest lies,
Submits to conquer, and but kneels to rise.’

“Flattery has ever been the ladder to power, and I have detested its
inverted effects of worshipping one into slavery, while it has pretended to
adore one to Deification. If ever I commit my happiness to the hands of any
person, it must be one whose indulgence I can trust, for flattery I cannot
believe. I am sure I have faults, and am convinced a husband will find them,
but wish he may forgive them; but vanity is apt to seek the admirer, rather
than the friend, not considering that the passion of love may, but the effect
of esteem can never, degenerate to dislike. I do not mean to exclude Love,
but I mean to guard against the fondness that arises from personal
advantages.... I have known many men see all the cardinal virtues in a good
complexion, and every ornament of a character in a pair of fine eyes, and
they have married these perfections, which might perhaps shine and bloom
a twelvemonth, and then alas! it appeared these fine characters were only
written in white and red.
“A long and intimate acquaintance is the best presage of future
agreement. I have strengthened this argument to myself by the example of
you and Mrs. Freind. I hope in my long and tedious dissertation I have said
nothing disrespectful of Love. As for your particular inducement to it I
cannot tell whether it was beauty or good qualities, they being united in her
in a degree of perfection not to be excelled.”

After wishing the rejected lover “Riches and alliance to help his
laudable ambition,” she concludes with, “I wish the same advantages for
myself, with one of established fortune and character, so established, that
one piece of generosity should not hurt his fortune, nor one act of
indiscretion prejudice his character.”
Who this particular individual was is not now SIR GEORGE
known, but that Elizabeth was the cynosure of all LYTTELTON

eyes from her wit, beauty, and vivacity is shown by her brothers’ letters of
this period, which constantly allude to her troop of admirers. Mr. Lyttelton,
now Sir George Lyttelton, the only single man whom she had ever
mentioned with uniform admiration, married this year, on June 15, Lucy,
daughter of Hugh Fortescue, Esq., of Filleigh, Devonshire, a marriage of
the purest affection on both sides.
In a letter at the end of 1741 she states that her father’s steward in
Yorkshire had been guilty of peccadilloes, and that she was to accompany
her parents to Yorkshire in early spring, where her father promised her
attendance at the York races, in lieu of the Canterbury ones, which then
appeared to her a poor substitute. Whilst in Yorkshire she either met for the
first time, or more probably renewed her acquaintance with, Mr. Edward
Montagu, her future husband, of whom some account must now be given.
Edward Montagu was the son of Charles MR. EDWARD
[226] MONTAGU
Montagu, fifth son of the great Earl of Sandwich,
Lord High Admiral of the Fleet to Charles II., and who had acted as his
proxy at his marriage with Catherine of Braganza. Charles Montagu
married twice. By his first wife, Elizabeth Foster, he had one son, James; he
married for second wife Sarah Rogers, daughter of John Rogers and his
wife, née Margaret Cock. The Rogers owned large estates at Newcastle-on-
Tyne[227] and in its neighbourhood. Charles Montagu, by his second
marriage, had three sons, Edward, Crewe, and John, and a daughter,
Jemima, who was married at the time I am writing of to Mr. Sydney
Medows, afterwards Sir Sydney Medows. Mr. Edward Montagu was born
in 1691, hence he was twenty-nine years older than Elizabeth. At the time
he courted Elizabeth, another admirer, a young nobleman, whose name I
know not, is stated to have been in love with her, but constant to her former
protestation of choosing a “formed character” that she could look up to, she
chose the older man. It is odd not a sentence is met with about him before,
except that one of her brothers chaffs her about “converting a Mr. M—— to
dancing,” which may have referred to him. He was a profound
mathematician, the friend of Emerson and other learned men of that day.
His character was amiable, equable, just, and of the highest integrity, as is
shown by his letters, and his political conduct as a Member of Parliament in
what was a corrupt age. Mrs. Carter[228] mentions him “as a man of sense, a
scholar, and a mathematician” in her letters. He owned a good estate at

Allerthorpe, Yorkshire, and another near Rokeby (the fine estate belonging
to Elizabeth’s cousin, “Long” Sir Thomas Robinson), also a house in Dover
Street, London.

[226] For other particulars as to the Montagu family the reader is referred to the
pedigree.
[227] In 1689 Mr. Rogers bought the estate of East Denton, Northumberland, with
its collieries, for £10,900.
[228] Elizabeth Carter, born 1716, died 1806. The learned Greek scholar.

Evidently the letter here inserted in Mrs. Anne MRS.
Donnellan’s handwriting, but unsigned, was an DONNELLAN’S
ADVICE —
answer to an appeal of Elizabeth’s for advice as to SWIFT’S YAHOOS
this courtship. Though long, I consider it so perfectly
suitable in its advice to any persons contemplating matrimony, I give it in
extenso—

“I can’t enough express to you, my dear Friend, how much your
confidence in me obliges me, as it shows me the place I hold in your heart.
The latter part of your letter, which is what I write to now, is a difficulty I
know how to pity, as I have experienced it, and yet I do not find I am at all
the more capable of advising how to avoid it; there is a medium between
encouragement and ill humour that is certainly right to avoid being thought
to desire to raise a passion that one does not design to gratifie, or to be too
apt to think one has raised a passion that must be discouraged, for as I think
nothing is more unjust than to wish to make another unhappy, merely to
gratifie a vanity of being known to be admired, so nothing is more
ridiculous than to be too apt to fancy one has raised such a passion, and I
should always choose to be the last that perceived it, rather than the first. I
have seen so many appearances of liking that has proved neither uneasy to
one side or t’other, that I am not apt to fear great hurt from them, and I
fancy the longer you live the more you will be of my mind; indeed when a
man gives way to a passion on a prospect of success, and finds a
disappointment to it, has often, I believe, given a melancholy turn to his
whole life: but for what I call occasional likings they can run from one to
another with great ease and dexterity. Now what I think the most difficult in

these affairs is to satisfie others in our conduct, for there is as you observe,
in the heart of male and female a principle of vanity and self-love that
makes us unwillingly give way to a preference in any thing, and we are very
apt to comfort ourselves with thinking, and sometimes saying, that the
preference given is not from greater perfections, but from greater
encouragement, ‘some people set themselves out, and pay a court I cannot,’
when we are all doing our best to gain this descried admiration, and vexed,
even to make us unjust when we fail. In short, and when I view human
nature in some lights, I can almost forgive Swift’s Yahoos. But to the point.
I should think the behaviour on these occasions should be as easy as we
can, and we should be pretty sure there is a passion growing in the heart
before we make an alteration that can be perceived by the person
concerned, and as for the by-slanderers, I should endeavour to convince
them I did not desire such a conquest, but at the same time, I would not let
them think they could easily persuade me I had made it. I would converse
as usual in public, but I would avoid private conversations, lest others
should think I sought them, but these are things I am sure you can think of
better than I can, and must be practised as circumstances suit. The person
said nothing here but what was extremely proper, we talked of you all, and
you and another were commended with great elegance, and for the third
they said they did not know them enough to give an opinion.
“Now my dear Friend a word about the desire that is natural in most
females to make lovers, if you meet with a person who you think would be
proper to make you happy in the married state, and they show a desire to
please you, and a solidity in their liking, give it the proper encouragement
that the decency of our sex will allow of, for it is the settlement in the world
we should aim at, and the only way we females have of making ourselves of
use to Society and raising ourselves in this world; but for lovers merely for
being courted and admired they are of no real use, and often prove a great
detriment both by their own malice of disappointment and their jealousy of
others, and for a friendship of any tenderness between disengaged persons
of different sexes I am afraid there is no such thing, so do not be caught by
that deceitful bait. Esteem and regard may be without passion, but
tenderness and confidence, and what we call friendship among ourselves,
will, with opportunity, turn to desire in the different sexes. We desire to
possess a friend to know their heart, to be in their thoughts, this must turn to
passion between the sexes, I think ’tis impossible to be otherwise, and I

could express it more philosophically but you will do it for me. Now pardon
me this impertinent letter, there are not those in the world to whom I would
write so freely, for I do not know those who I think have sense and
goodness of heart, to bear advice: the only merit of mine is its sincerity and
affection, and having seen more years has given me many opportunities of
seeing the world of love, with all its mischiefs. Adieu, burn this, and love
me as I do you most sincerely.
“P.S.—I will say no more of Books till we meet, though I must wonder
at the want of discernment in those who can read an Author who is all
fiction, and take it for certain truth.”
MRS. MONTAGU’S
Anyhow, Mr. Montagu and Elizabeth entered into MARRIAGE
an engagement, and in the Gentleman’s Magazine for
August, 1742, is the following announcement:—“August 5th. Edward
Montagu, Esqr., Member for Huntingdon, to the eldest daughter of Matthew
Robinson, of Horton in Kent, Esqr.”
The Rev. William Freind tied the nuptial knot.
The day after her marriage Mrs. Montagu writes to the Duchess of
Portland—

“Friday, August 6, 1742.

“Dear Madam,
“I return your Grace a thousand thanks for your letter; the good
wishes of a friend are of themselves a happiness, and believe me I have
always thought myself the nearer being happy because I knew you wished
me so. If your affection to me will last as long as my love and gratitude
towards you, I think it will stay with me till the latest moment I shall have
in this world; no alteration of circumstances or length of time can wear out
my grateful remembrance of your favours to me; you have a station in my
heart, from whence you cannot be driven while any one virtue lives in it:
truth, constancy, gratitude, and every honest affection guard you there!
“Mr. Montagu desires me to make his compliments to my Lord Duke
and your Grace, with many thanks for the favour his Grace designs him of a
visit which he is not willing to put off so long as our return from Yorkshire,
but will be glad of the honour of seeing the Duke on Monday, at seven

o’clock in Dover Street; and I hope at that most happy hour to have the
pleasure of seeing you. We shall spend that evening in Town. If you will be
at home to-morrow at two o’clock, I will pass an hour with you; but pray
send me word to Jermyn Street at eleven, whether I can come to you
without meeting any person at Whitehall but the Duke; to every one else
pray deny your dressing room. Mr. Freind will tell your Grace I behaved
magnanimously, and not one cowardly tear, I assure you, did I shed at the
solemn Altar, my mind was in no mirthful mood indeed. I have a great hope
of happiness; the world, as you say, speaks well of Mr. Montagu, and I have
many obligations to him, which must gain my particular esteem; but such a
change of life must furnish me with a thousand anxious thoughts.
“Adieu, my dear Lady Duchess: whatever I am, I must still be with
gratitude, affection, and fidelity,
“Yours,
“Eliza Montagu.”
LADY ANDOVER
Amongst the numerous congratulations received
on her marriage may be mentioned letters from Lady Andover, staying at
Levens with the Berkshires, and Mrs. Pendarves, who writes from Calwich.
The following paragraph shows the general esteem of Mr. Montagu’s
character—

“I think you cannot be disappointed in the choice you have made; you
know the essentials of happiness, and have made your choice accordingly,
and Mr. Montagu must be much envied now, as he has always been
esteemed: nobody’s character answers more to your merit. You must give
me leave to trouble you with my compliments to him, and to add that I wish
to be acquainted with him. I cannot help having a very favourable opinion
of the person whom you have preferred to all others.”
“DELIA”
“Delia” (Miss Dashwood) writes—

“My heart in plain sincerity wishes you joy and lasting happiness, and
sure you have the best security for both, as all allow Mr. Montagu has an
uncommon good understanding, and as large a share of good nature, both

which are conspicuous in yourself, that they must undoubtedly when joined
produce a lasting harmony.”
HONEYMOON
Mr. Montagu appears to have been only known by TOUR
popular report to the Bullstrode circle, till his
marriage, but his immense circle of relations and friends opened a fresh
vista of delightful and extended social engagements for his wife. This first
letter of Elizabeth’s to her mother after marriage is interesting—
“Dover Street, August 10.

“Hond. Madam,
“I had the pleasure of meeting your letter here last night at my
arrival. The Duke and Duchess of Portland spent the evening and supped
with us. This morning I have been looking over the house, and seeing many
things much better than I deserve, in which I am to have a share: but what
gives me infinitely more pleasure than these favours of fortune, is observing
the willingness and gladness with which Mr. Montagu bestows them upon
me. I find the house very good and convenient, and I hope I shall spend
many happy days in it. Happy I am sure they will be to me, if I can make
them so to the person who has thus obliged me. I must write but a very
short letter, for Mrs. Medows[229] who favours us with her company to
dinner is waiting for me in the next room.
“My sister is just returned from some business she has been doing for
me, she would desire her duty if she was here, but there are two pair of
stairs between us. I hope you got well home from Canterbury. We propose
going away on Thursday. This day we shall spend in Town, to-morrow we
return to our Box in Kentish Town, and then away to Yorkshire, where if
you have any commands, pray let me have the pleasure of executing them.
Madam Sally and I will write our travels as we go. Mr. Montagu desires his
best respects to you, my Father and my brothers. My duty and love attends
them as proper. I will in all good say as far and as much for my sister as
myself, so accept the same compliment from her, and believe me, dear
Madam, with a grateful sense of all your and my Father’s goodness and
care,
“Your dutiful, affectionate and

obliged Daughter,
“Eliza Montagu.
“P.S.—I design to write to my Father next post. The Duke of Argyll[230]
is said to be relenting upon the subject of places of which several are
spoken of for him, and that he goes to Flanders. Some report that his eldest
daughter[231] is to be Duchess of Greenwich at his death.”

[229] Mr. Montagu’s sister.
[230] 2nd Duke of Argyll and Duke of Greenwich. Military commander,
statesman, and orator; born 1680, died 1743.
[231] Caroline, made Baroness Greenwich.

It will be seen by this letter that Sarah Robinson was acting chaperone,
which the odd etiquette of those days exacted, it being then not thought bon
ton for a newly married couple to be alone on their honeymoon!
The following letter from Mr. Robinson to his new MR. ROBINSON
son-in-law shows the happiness of the newly married
couple:—

“Dear Sir,
“Don’t be apprehensive upon seeing this, that added to the
impertinence you have already received from my hands, you are to have
that of a troublesome correspondent; I can assure you it is the way I am the
least troublesome to my friends; the truth of the matter is that I know I
should never forgive myself if I should be wanting to you in any respect,
even though it should amount to no more than a point of ceremony. As I
think that no letters that come from your wife ought to be a secret to you, I
cannot help telling you I saw one from her last week to her Mother, and
another to her brother Tom, so full of the happiness of her present
condition, and the prospect of her future, that I begin to be suspicious that
they are designed as a reproof to me for the deplorable state under which
she passed twenty-three years. I shall not forgive her till I know she uses all
her endeavours to give to you an equal share, which I think you have at
least a right to. We hope you enjoy the benefit of this fine weather upon the

road, and will arrive safe and well at Allerthorpe before this to the
satisfaction of my good friend Mr. Carter.[232] Our compliments attend your
family and his.
“I am your most obedient Servant,
“Matt. Robinson.
“Horton, August ye 15, 1742.”

This was addressed—

“To Edward Montagu, Esqr.,
“at Allerthorpe Hall,[233]
“near Burrough Bridge,
“Yorkshire.
“Member of Parliament.”

[232] Mr. Carter was steward and agent to Mr. Montagu; a most worthy man.
[233] Allerthorpe, being close to Burneston, the Robinsons were well acquainted
with the neighbourhood.

The following letter of Dr. Conyers Middleton to DR. CONYERS
Elizabeth on her marriage is of interest:— MIDDLETON

“Hildersham,[234] near Linton, August 17, 1742.

“Madam,
“I should have paid my compliments earlier on the joyful occasion
of your marriage if I had known whither to address them; for your brother’s
letter which informed me, happened to lie several days at Cambridge,
before it came to my hands. My congratulation, however, though late, wants
nothing of the warmth with which the earliest was accompanied; for I must
beg leave to assure you that I take a real part in the present joy of your
family, and feel a kind of paternal[235] pleasure, from the good fortune of
one whose amiable qualities I have been a witness of from her tenderest
years, and to whom I have ever been wishing and ominating everything that
is good. I have always expected from your singular merit and

accomplishments that they would recommend you in proper time to an
advantageous and honourable match; and was assured from your prudence
that it would never suffer you to accept any which was not worthy of you;
so that it gives me not only the greatest pleasure on your account, but a sort
of pride also on my own, to see my expectations so fully answered, and my
predictions of you so literally fulfilled. As all conjugal happiness is founded
on mutual affection, cherished by good sense, so you have the fairest
prospect of it now open before you, by your marriage with a gentleman, not
only of figure and fortune, but of great knowledge and understanding, who
values you, not so much for the charms of your person, as the beauties of
your mind, which will always give you the surest hold of him, as they will
every day be gathering strength, whilst the others are daily losing it. But I
should make a sad compliment to a blooming bride if I meant to exclude
her person from contributing any part to her nuptial happiness; that is far
from my meaning; and yours Madam, I am sure, could not fail of having its
full share in acquiring your husband’s affection. What I would inculcate
therefore, is only this: that though beauty has the greatest force to conciliate
affection, yet it cannot preserve it without the help of the mind; and
whatever the perfection of the one may be, the accomplishments of the
other will always be the more amiable; and in the married state especially,
will be found after all, the most solid and lasting basis of domestic comfort.
But I am using the privilege of my years, and instead of compliments,
giving lessons to one who does not want them. I shall only add, therefore,
my repeated wishes for all the joy that matrimony can give you and Mr.
Montagu, to whose worthy character I am no stranger, though I have not the
honour to be known to him in person, and am with sincere respect,
“Madam,
“Your faithful friend,
and obedient servant,
“Conyers Middleton.
“P.S.—My wife charges me with her compliments and best wishes of all
happiness and prosperity in your new state of life.”

[234] Hildersham, near Cambridge, built by Dr. Middleton. The poet Gray was a
constant visitor there.

[235] It will be remembered Dr. Middleton’s first wife was Mrs. Drake, née
Morris, Elizabeth’s maternal grandmother.

Here I make some extracts from Mrs. Montagu’s ALLERTHORPE
second letter to her beloved Duchess of Portland,
dated August 21, 1742, from Allerthorpe, Mr. Montagu’s Yorkshire seat—

“On Tuesday I arrived at this place, not tired with my journey, but
satisfied therewith. As far as Nottingham you will travel very soon, and
then as far as Doncaster, therefore it will be but impertinent to give you an
account of the road or anything concerning it. I will only tell your Grace I
saw Nottingham Castle,[236] where there is beauty and magnificence worthy
the wisdom and the riches of your ancestors. As we came nearer to this
place, the country grew more wild, but not less beautiful; we came through
some rivers that charmed me beyond all things.... We have at present very
fine weather, the sun gilds every object, and I assure you it is the only fine
thing we have here, for the house is old and not handsome: it is very
convenient, and the situation extremely pleasant. We found the finest
peaches, nectarines and apricots, that I have ever eat: your Grace will think
I mean turnips, carrots and parsnips; but really and truly they are apricots,
peaches and nectarines. To-morrow, I believe will be one of the happiest
days I ever spent, I am to go to fetch my brothers from school. How
delightful will be such a meeting after so many years’ separation.”

[236] Belonged to the Dukes of Newcastle, the duchess’s ancestors. Destroyed by
mob in Reform riots, 1835.

These were her three youngest brothers, William, LITTLE BROTHERS
John, and Charles, who had been five years at school
at Scorton, without coming home. Mr. Montagu, eager to gratify his bride’s
love of her family, had allowed her to have them to stay, and ever
afterwards he was their constant friend and benefactor. Further on in the
letter she states that it took them “six days with very easy stages” to reach
Allerthorpe from London! In the next letter she states that her little brothers
being “sensible, good-natured, and sober, the most affectionate towards

each other of any children of their age I ever saw: they have very good
characters at school, both as to their learning and behaviour; but the
quintessence of perfection is my brother Jack.”
At the end of this letter she mentions her old friend, Miss Cally Scott, of
Scott’s Hall, was going to be married to Mr. Best, a man of fortune.
On August 25 she writes to her cousin, Mrs. THE REV.
Freind— MATTHEW
ROBINSON

“Dear Cousin, I am ashamed I have not before answered your kind letter
and returned thanks for those good wishes of whose accomplishments I
hope there is the fairest prospect: I think we increase in esteem without
decaying in complaisance, and I hope we shall always remember Mr. Freind
and the fifth of August with thankfulness. I am infinitely obliged to Mr.
Freind for not letting the knot be tied by the hands of an ordinary bungler;
he was very good in coming to London on purpose, but he did not give his
last benediction, but stole away before my sister or any of us were come
downstairs.
“We arrived at this place after a journey of six days through fine
countries, where the riches of Harvest promised luxury to the Landlord,
plenty to the farmer and food to the labourer. Here we are situated in a fine
country, and Mr. Montagu has the pleasure of calling many hundred pounds
a year about his house his own, without any person’s property interfering
with it: I think it is the prettiest estate, and in the best order I ever saw; large
and beautiful meadows for riding or walking in, with a pretty river[237]
winding about them, upon which we shall sometimes go out in boats.
“In this parish Dr. Robinson,[238] our general Uncle, has founded a
school and an Alms House where the young are taught industry, the old,
content: I propose to visit the Alms House very soon. I saw the old women
with the Bucks upon their sleeves at Church, and it gave me pleasure.
Heraldry[239] does not always descend with such honour, as when Charity
leads her by the hand. Our uncle did this good while he was alive; it was not
that Soul thrift that would save itself with another’s money.
“I hope you will forgive my not having written to you before, but a new
family, and a new place must take up one’s time. Our house here is

tolerably convenient, and that is all that can be said for it. We have a better
which I hope you will often see in Berkshire.[240] Pray when you and Mr.
Freind have a leisure hour, dispose of it in writing to me. Mr. Montagu has
an estate near Rokeby, from whence I intend to visit Sir Thomas
Robinson’s[241] fine park of which I hear great praising.
“I am, dear Madam,
“Your most affectionate cousin,
and obedient, humble servant,
“Elizabeth Montagu.”

[237] The Swale.
[238] The Rev. Matthew Robinson founded these charities at Burneston, York,
where he was Vicar for forty years.
[239] The Hospitallers wear a purple gown with a gold buck on the shoulder, the
Robinson crest.
[240] Sandleford Priory, Berks.
[241] Mrs. Freind’s brother. See note on Rokeby at the end of this book.

Mr. Montagu having left Elizabeth for a few days FIRST LETTER TO
for business at Newcastle, she writes to him— MR. MONTAGU

“How very fortunate are those few who in the Person they love, meet
with the principles of Honour and Virtue to guide them through the World,
but this, my fortune, so happy and so rare, shall not breed in me that
insolence of opinion that I deserve it, but I will still look up to Heaven and
you with gratitude and continual acknowledgments.”

This sufficiently indicates the happiness and mutual confidence reigning
between the newly wedded pair.
On October 2 Dr. Conyers Middleton wrote Mrs. Montagu a long letter,
mainly a dissertation on marriage and its duties. He alludes to his pleasure
at her having her three youngest brothers with her, calling them “enfans
trouvés by a sister unknown to them,” and he adds—

“I shall always think myself particularly interested in their success, for
they were all born under my roof, which may, one day perhaps, derive an
accession of fame from that circumstance. If I should live to see any of
them in the University, it would be a pleasure to me to do everything in my
power that might be of use to their improvement.”

This shows that Mrs. Robinson had been accustomed to stay with her
mother, the first Mrs. Middleton, for her latter frequent confinements,
though Elizabeth and some of the elder sons were born at York. Dr.
Middleton begs Mr. and Mrs. Montagu to pay him a visit at Cambridge on
their return to London, and states, “This university had the honour of Mr.
Montagu’s education, and claims some share in yours.”
Being detained by business in the north, Mrs. PÈRE LE
Montagu wrote to Mrs. Donnellan to send her a COURAYER —
WORKSOP
winter mantle and muff, and as prices of those times
may interest my readers, I will mention the blue velvet mantle cost £5, the
ermine muff one guinea. In Mrs. Donnellan’s letter the Père Courayer sends
his compliments and good wishes to Mrs. Montagu. As he figures much in
later letters, I give a short sketch of his biography. Peter Francis le Courayer
was born in 1681, and was a Normandy ecclesiastic; although a Roman
Catholic, he had the courage to defend the ordinances of the English
Church, for which the Pope censured him severely. He left France for
England, and went to Oxford, where he lodged with Mrs. Chenevix, the
famous toy-woman. He was made LL.D., and translated Father Paul’s
“History of the Council of Trent,” also Sleidan’s “History of the
Reformation.” He was well known to Horace Walpole. He died in 1776. His
pet-name was “the little Père.” In a letter of the duchess’s of October 9 from
Welbeck, where she was visiting her mother, Lady Oxford, she says—

“Mamma was so obliging last week as to carry us to Worksop Manor,
[242]
the Duke of Norfolk’s.[243] The Designs are noble and grand, they have
made great plantations. The gardener told me he had planted last year
300,000 Forest trees, besides sowing three score bushels of seeds. The
approach to the house is fine. I don’t like the house though it was built by
Bess of Harwicke, whose wisdom I have in great reverence: the best
apartment is up two pair of stairs, the additional offices lately built are

exceedingly good, the Dairy much prettier than that we saw at Richmond.
The servant told us the Duchess gave the chief direction for the building,
had planted those woods, had drawn the plan for that piece of water of 120
acres. The Duke’s time is chiefly occupied with drawing plans for Bee
hives! With difficulty I kept my countenance....

[242] Worksop was burnt down in 1761. The duke here mentioned built 500
rooms to it.
[243] Edward Howard, 16th Duke of Norfolk.

“We were on Monday at Kiveton, which is by FRENCH
much the finest house I ever saw, and the best ECONOMY
furnished. The Park and views from it are very
beautiful.”
From Allerthorpe the Montagus visited Mr. Buckley[244] at Bishop’s
Dale, near which place Mr. Robinson in former days had lived in the
shooting season. Elizabeth had not been there for fifteen years. She
describes to the Duchess of Portland the country—

[244] Mr. Buckley had been a second father to the three little Robinson boys, who
spent their holidays with him.

“I had been three days upon an expedition to a wild part of the country
called the Dales, where Nature’s works are not delicate, pretty and
mignonne, but grand, sublime and magnificent. Vast mountains, rocks and
cascades, and rapid rivers make the country beautiful and surprising. We
went to a farm abounding in wonders, a high hill with some hanging wood
before it, behind it a large and rapid river with the prospect of a huge
cascade, an old Castle and a Church. Some houses in view take from it the
honour of absolute solitude: a range of rocks appears like the ruins of an old
town on the other side of the river. In a cottage built in this charming place,
lives an old woman, who has attained to an hundred and four years, and for
this long lease of life, has not exchanged the best comfort. She enjoys good

health, tolerable strength, has her hearing perfect, and her sight very well: is
cheerful and has not lost her reason, but answers with sense and spirit, her
hair is of a fine black: she was knitting when we went to her, and has
promised to knit me a pair of stockings in a month.
“My Father had a house in this part of the world for the summer sports
of shooting and fishing, so that the old woman and I had been well
acquainted 15 years ago, and she told me laughing she imagined I did not
expect to see her alive at this time....
“Tell Père Courayer[245] my head is as much troubled with chimeras and
giddiness as ever. I fear he is too fond of variety in life to be a friend to
Matrimony. The merriest man I have seen in Yorkshire is a Frenchman, who
came here for religion, and has had the needful of life added unto him; he
has a little estate, and lives with the mountain nymphs, Liberty and Health,
in the Dales; he amuses himself with singing to his grandchildren, mending
his clothes, and making soup: his grandson eats soup with him, and his next
darling, le petit chat, helps him off with the Bouillie. He can not only make
a fine dish of the cabbage, but of the snails and caterpillars, and what we
call the unprofitable vermin that live upon it! There was not a creature in
Noah’s Ark that would not be received into his larder, for a Frenchman is
seldom so proud of stomach as to term anything unclean....
“Mr. Montagu desires his compliments to your grace, and my Lord
Duke; we talk of you and drink your health as often as you can expect from
sober people. Had I married a Tory fox-hunter he might have toasted you in
a longer draught; but for temperate Whigs we do you reason.
“I am, my dear Lady Duchess’s
most grateful, and most affectionate,
“E. Montagu.”

[245] He had expressed a fear that matrimony would spoil her philosophy.

Mr. Montagu was a Whig, but, as his wife states, a WHIG PRINCIPLES
moderate one. His political conduct as Member for
Huntingdon was irreproachably upright in a most venal age. What respect

his wife already had for his judgment is shown in a letter from her to him in
London, whither he had gone for the meeting of Parliament on October 16,
enclosing her reply to Dr. Conyers Middleton’s letter, desiring him, if he did
not approve of it, to burn it, and she would write another. The following
passage speaks volumes for Mrs. Montagu’s humility (though she was so
universally praised):—

“The letter directed to Dr. Middleton, if you approve, I would beg the
favour of you to frank, and send to the post, but I should be glad if you
would first take the trouble to read it, for it is with some uneasiness I
correspond with the very wise. I think an understanding of a middle size has
a great deal of trouble in conversation between reaching to those above it,
and stooping to those below it.”
She signs—
“My Dearest, your very affectionate
and faithful wife.”
His letters to her begin generally “My Dearest Angel,” or “My Dearest
Life.” His writing is most characteristic, a clear, firm hand, easily read,
much information compressed into a few words, and filled with most
affectionate expressions.
Elizabeth was now in an interesting condition, and as Dr. Sandys
forbade her travelling for a time, she and Sarah remained at Allerthorpe.
The joy of Mr. Montagu was extreme at the idea of an heir, which was
shared by his sister, Mrs. Medows, and all his relations. Elizabeth, though
pleased at the prospect, was very souffrante, and bored by an inactive life,
yet submitted to it with a good grace.
At this period her brother Robert was made captain of an East India
vessel travelling to China, to his family’s satisfaction.
The Duchess of Portland writes from London and DR. MEAD
says—

“I was extremely well entertained the other day with seeing Dr.
Mead’s[246] curiosities. They are much finer than Sir Hans Sloane’s. In
particular he has a mummy much finer preserved. It is the custom to gild

their faces, so that all the features are painted over the gold.... Of all the
things, except the pictures, which are exquisitely fine, none pleases me
more than a mask in bronze, which is exceeding fine workmanship, and has
upon it the symbols of all the gods. The crown of vine for Bacchus, a circle
of iron for Pluto, the ears of Pan, and the beard of waves for Neptune.”

[246] Dr. Richard Mead, born 1673, died 1754. Celebrated physician and
antiquarian.

We gain a peep at French fashions of the day in this paragraph, in a letter
of Mrs. Donnellan’s—

“Mrs. Rook, an acquaintance of mine, is just come from Paris, and is
come without a hoop, and tells me, except in their high dress, nobody wears
one. Their sacks are made proportionably narrow and short, opened before
with a petticoat and trimmed, and with a stiff quilted petticoat under: the
only reasonable thing I have heard from France a great while, and the only
fashion I should wish to follow.”
THE MUFF —
It would be impossible to include in this work all THE HANOVER
the letters between Mr. Montagu and his wife, but the TROOPS
following shall be given in its entirety to show his
style:—
“November, 1742.

“My Dearest Life,
“Yesterday as soon as it came to hand, j[247] sent yours to my sister.
I have not seen her but am sure she thinks herself much obliged, as all must
do who have the happiness of a correspondence with you, whose letters not
only please by their wit and vivacity, but are full of sincerity and friendship,
of virtue and goodness, which you set in so true and amiable a light, that if
those that read them grow not wiser and better, it is none of your fault.
“I rejoice at the good account you give of your health, that you suffer
less and less every day. I wish j could prevent your suffering at all. The

prudent care you take obliges me in the highest degree, and j hope with the
assistance of your happy and chearful disposition of mind, preserve you
from any misfortune. Though j most eagerly long to see you, j would have
you run no hazard, and will content myself till we break up, when j hope
neither bad roads nor bad weather shall hinder me coming to you: till then j
desire you to spend your time as agreeably as you can, and am glad Mrs.
Yorke and Mrs. Clayton are to make you a visit.
“I waited on Mrs. Donnellan this morning, yesterday was not convenient
for her, and could not do it before. I paid her the bill which j send enclos’d
and a guinea more for your muffe, so that out of ye six guineas j shall owe
you five shillings. She expressed herself much obliged, and desired her
compliments to you, and both to you and Miss Salley.
“Your Father went out of Town last Friday. The evening before j spent
with him, Dr. Audley and your three brothers,[248] who were all well. I
suppose you will soon have your instructions about your children[249] at
Scorton. You do well in letting them take leave of those they are so much
obliged to, and when they come from Burton, if they spend the rest of their
time with you, there will be no harm in it, nor will it hinder them in their
learning, as they are designed for another school.
“My good friend at Theakstone[250] sent me his brother’s letter, and j
received another this afternoon from the Admiralty Office, which j will send
you in a post or two, that you may communicate it to his relations. I shall do
all j can to serve him, and after j have made inquiry about the manner of
doing it, will write to his Father.
“On Thursday last a motion was made for a secret Committee, and the
next day for the place Bill, both which succeeded as was expected, the first
was flung out by a majority of 66, the latter by a majority of 25! The
Debates were very warm, and the Chancellor of the Exchequer[251] was
terribly roasted, but all to no purpose, for after what has happened, he and
such as he, who have acted so perfidious a part, will be sure to go all
lengths. On Monday we expect to have the consideration of the 16,000
Hanover troops[252] come before us, and to be carried through, a worse
thing than any that was ever attempted in the time of Sir R(obert)
W(alpole).

“I hope this will find dear Miss Salley recovered, pray present her with
my best compliments, and believe me to be,
“With the most tender regard,
“My Dearest’s most obliged and
affectionate Husband,
“Edw. Montagu.”

[247] Mr. Montagu, like the Duke of Portland, for years used “j” for “I,”
presumably an old custom.
[248] Matthew, Thomas, and Morris.
[249] Her three youngest brothers, John, William, and Charles.
[250] Young Mr. Edward Carter, son of Mr. Montagu’s head agent. He was
petitioning for his brother, Mr. William Carter, to have a company of Marines, he
being in that service through Mr. Montagu’s influence.
[251] Mr. Sandys.
[252] These men to receive British pay.

Mrs. Montagu writes to the Duchess of Portland— ORATORIOS

“I am now in the highest content: my little brothers are to go to
Westminster, as soon as the holidays are over, and what adds still to my
pleasure in this, is that Jacky’s going is owing to Mr. Montagu’s
intercession for him with my Father, who did not design his going to
Westminster till next year: our youngest,[253] I believe, is to go out with our
new Captain....
“I am pretty well, but I do not like to sit still like Puss in the corner all
the winter to watch what may prove a mouse, though I am no mountain. I
cannot boast of the numbers that adorn our fireside, my sister and I are the
principal figures; besides there is a round table, a square screen, some
books and a work basket, with a smelling bottle, when morality grows
musty, or a maxim smells too strong, as sometimes they will in ancient
books.

“I had a letter to-day from Mr. Montagu, in which he flatters me with the
hopes of seeing him at Christmas.”

[253] Charles to accompany his brother Robert.

In a letter of Mrs. Pendarves of December 9 from Clarges Street, where
she was living, she tells Mrs. Montagu, “Handel is to have six oratorios in
Lent. The operas are dull, the plays for one part well acted, ten are
wretched, but Garrick is excellent.”
About this time Elizabeth writes a long letter to HER HUSBAND’S
the Rev. William Freind, her cousin, portions of CHARACTER
which I give. She says—

“The last and best good office you did me, I believe, will claim my
thanks to the longest day of my life.... I know it will please you to hear that
I have, every day since you made me a wife, had more reason to thank you
for the alteration. I have the honour and happiness to be made the guest of a
heart furnished with the best and greatest virtues, honesty, integrity and
universal benevolence, with the most engaging affection to every one who
particularly belongs to him. No desire of power, but to do good, no use of it
but to make happy. I cannot be so unjustly diffident as to doubt of the
duration of my happiness, when I see the author of it dispensing content to
all his dependants, and should he ever cease to use me with more care and
generosity and affection than I deserve, I should be the first person he has
ever treated in this manner. Since I married I have never heard him say an
ill-natured word to any one, or have I received one matrimonial frown. His
generous affection in loving all my friends, and desiring every opportunity
for my conversing with them, is very obliging to me. We have often pleased
ourselves with the hopes of seeing you frequently in Dover Street this
winter; but alas, I am a prisoner at Allerthorpe, and the worst of prisoners
confined by infirmities and ill health.
“Mr. Montagu went to Parliament ten days ago to my mortification, but
with my approbation. I desired him to go, and half wished him to stay! I
knew his righteous star would rule his destiny, so I helped him on with

honour’s boots, and let him go without murmuring. He left me my sister,
and where she is there will happiness be also.... We have not been troubled
with any visitor since Mr. M. went away, and could you see how ignorant,
how awkward, how absurd, and how uncouth the generality of people are in
this country, you would look upon this as a piece of good fortune....
“I am very happy in one thing, that drinking is not within our walls; we
have not had one person disordered by liquor since we came down, though
most of the poor ladies have had more Hogs in their dining rooms than ever
they had in their hog stye....
“I imagine you will have seen Dr. Middleton’s translations of the Epistle
by this time; pray tell me what you think of them.”
“NIGHT
The Duchess of Portland, on December 4, writes THOUGHTS”
in great annoyance at some of her letters being lost.
She was much worried about the health of her mother, who suffered
severely from cramp in the stomach. She desires Elizabeth to write a
visible[254] letter to cheer Lady Oxford, and adds, “I rejoice you are better. I
hope you have left off footing it and tumbling downstairs. Have you read
‘Night Thoughts’? If you have, I beg you will give me your opinion of it.”

[254] Often the familiar letters were enclosed to Mrs. Elstob, a learned lady and
authoress, who was now governess to the Portland children. Lady Oxford was
then at Bullstrode.

Dr. Young had lost his beloved wife, his step-son and step-daughter the
year before. The step-daughter died of consumption, brought on by grief at
her mother’s loss. Her step-father had taken her abroad for her health. She
died at Montpellier, and was refused Christian burial by the bigoted French
of those days. The poor doctor, assisted by his servant, dug her grave in a
field, unaided by any one. Can any one wonder at the gloom pervading the
poem?
Whilst the duchess is writing to Mrs. Montagu, the latter writes on
December 5—

“Madam, after being sunk into stupidity by the company of a strange
kind of animal called a country Beau and wit, how unfit am I for
conversation of the Duchess of Portland!”
A ROUÉ OF THE
She then proceeds to draw this curious picture of a PERIOD
country beau,—

“who cannot attain the perfection of a monkey, even the art of mimicry....
Had you seen the pains this animal has been taking to imitate the cringe of a
beau, the smartness of a wit, till he was hideous to behold, and horrible to
hear, you would have pitied him! He walks like a tortoise, and chatters like
a magpye: by the indulgence of a kind mother, and the advantage of a
country education, he was first a clown, then he was sent to the Inns of
Court, where he first fell into a red waistcoat and velvet breeches; then into
vanity. This light companion led him to the play house, where he
ostentiously coquetted with the orange wenches, who cured him of the bel-
air of taking snuff by abridging him of his nostrils, grown even in his own
eyes no very lovely figure; he thought Bacchus, no critic in faces, would
prove in the end a better friend than Cupid: accordingly he fell into the
company of the jovial, till want of money and want of taste led this prodigal
son, if not to eat, to drink with swine. He visited the prisons, not as a
comforter, but as a companion to criminals; shook hands with the gold
finder, and walked in the ways of the scavenger; so singular his humility,
none were his contempt. At last, having lost his money, ruined his
constitution, and lost all the sense nature gave him, he returned to the
country where all the youths of inferior rank, admiring his experience, and
emulating his qualities, and copying his manners, grew, some fit for jail,
others for transportation.... Notwithstanding all these vices and the most
nauseous effect of them, all people treat him civilly!”

Mr. Montagu writes to his wife on December 9,[255] and in it he says—

“Tomorrow the affair of the Hanover troops[256] comes on, and will be
carried, which is the worst that ever came before the House, of which j shall

give you an account in my next letter, and send you several pamphlets well
worth your reading about that, and the present state of affairs.”

Writing again from his house in Dover Street, London, on December 20,
he says—

“On Tuesday we met at Westminster, where his Majesty opened the
session with a most gracious speech from the throne, which j hope you have
got, as you shall have the addresses of both Houses sent by this post. You
will easily perceive what was aimed at by the speech, and that by the
addresses both the Lords and Commons have most dutifully consented to
take 16,000 Hanover troops into our pay. This was openly avowed by Lord
Carteret[257] in the Upper House, and by those who made the motion in the
Lower. After a debate which lasted till between 10 and 11 at night our
address was carried by a majority of 109, the numbers being 150 and 259.
By that stroke England is become a province to Hanover, the charge of the
military part of its government already being flung upon us (for who shall
tell when we shall get rid of this burthen?) or how soon we shall feel the
additional part of the same? The late ministry never attempted anything like
it, and it shows that the new one will stick at nothing to recommend
themselves to the King, the Devil in Milton, ‘with one bound, high
overleapt all bound.’... The number of those that love their country truly,
always was and ever will be but small, and the Saints never yet governed
the Earth, and I believe never will, but true patriotism is not the less a virtue
for that, nor must its votaries leave off their endeavours or be discouraged at
whatever happens.”

[255] Remember this is “Old Style” date.
[256] This was the proposal to pay Hanoverian troops with English money to
assist in the war.
[257] Afterwards Lord Granville, born 1690, died 1763. Secretary of State.

It will hardly be credited that the country apothecary bled Mrs. Montagu
for a headache in her delicate condition; but so he did, and as a fever was

then raging, she submitted, though saying she heard “he had let the life out
of the veins of eleven people,” as this disease would not stand “blooding!”
A Mr. Twycross, who was in love with Sarah A BOLUS!
Robinson, suffered from sore throat, and she
accordingly herself made up a bolus for him from a recipe of an old maid
friend, the size of which alarmed Mrs. Montagu. Fortunately, his throat
getting better, he did not use it, to Mrs. Montagu’s relief, who says—

“Had he swallowed it I should have thought there was love powder in it,
for he said a thousand pretty things to her, with an air of great tenderness,
and indeed had he taken the bolus I believe no man could have been nearer
dying for a lady. The recipe had been given her by an ancient maiden, who
having said in her sorrow all men were liars, thought the best way to cure
them of the vice of telling lyes was to choak them.”
A WHITSTABLE
Some details as to the conveyance of goods are HOY
given in a letter of Mr. Robinson, Senior, to Mr.
Montagu on December 12, saying, “Dear Sir, I sent on Saturday by the
Whitstable Hoy[258] ‘Talbot’ two brace of woodcocks and a pheasant, which
I hope you have received.”

[258] A coasting vessel.

In a letter to Mr. Montagu, December 17, his wife desires him,

“pray order Griffith to send me down ‘The Complaint, or Thoughts on
Time, Death and Friendship.’[259]... I have been desired by a friend to read
it....
“Our boys[260] are to be put on board the York stage this day sennight,
this will be their first launching into the world, I wish the bounteous Lady
Fortune would take ’em in hand. Jacky is vastly pleased that you entreated
his Father to send him to Westminster. They desire their best respects.”

[259] By the Rev. James Hervey, born 1714, died 1758.

[260] Her three little brothers.

Mr. Montagu was still detained in London, not THE LORD
only by his parliamentary duties, but for a Chancery CHANCELLOR
suit. He writes on December 21, lamenting the long
separation “from the ardent object of his desires,” but pleased to think that
the doctor will soon give her permission to join him in London. This
passage throws light on law suits of that day—

“Our petition, as we were made to expect, was to have been heard this
day, but the Lord Chancellor who has, j think, much more business than any
one man can go through as he ought to do, had so many petitions that it is
thought impossible it should come on sooner than tomorrow, and may not
be till near the beginning of next term. Part of his Lordship’s time is this
day taken up by his attendance on the King, who comes to the House of
Lords to pass some money bills, in all his royal pageantry and show. Things
of this nature add a great deal to the plague, expense and delay of Law,
especially in the Court of Chancery. If we are not heard tomorrow in the
forenoon j shall be deprived of your brother’s[261] assistance, who was so
good as to come post from Canterbury on Sunday last on purpose, and must
set out again for the same place at noon tomorrow.... This day the House of
Commons are to be adjourned till after the hollydays, and it is talked that
the Session will be at an end by the beginning of March. The opposition has
been carried on with a great deal of Spirit and will be continued to be so
after Xmas, as it is given out. They intend to make a new ministry wade
through more mire, though they have gone through so much already. They
have got themselves more enemies in the short time they have been in, than
Lord Orford in his long reign, for they are ruining their country faster than
ever he did, and this infamous job of the Hanoverian Troops, it’s thought
was what he never would give way to. Several of our young Members have
greatly distinguished themselves by their opposition, and made it appear
that there is no want of the parts and capacity of those who have so
perfidiously deserted them and the cause of liberty. But none has done it so
eminently as Mr. Pit(t),[262] who in the opinion of several, as well as me, is
a greater man than ever j have sat with, and if he preserves his integrity, will
be transmitted to posterity in the most illustrious of characters. He is at least

equal, if not superior to Mr. Murray,[263] who has been brought into the
House on purpose to contend with him, and who did the first day of his
entrance by saying everything the cause would bear in so good a manner,
that he gave nobody offence, which makes me believe he will not serve the
ministry in the slavish, dirty manner other attorneys and solicitor generals
are wont to do, but with more dignity to himself, if not with more advantage
to their cause....
“I hope you will, along with this, receive Mr. Hervey’s lucubration. If
Lord Shaftesbury’s ‘Characteristics’ are among my books, Wear shall bring
them down....
“It is with much pleasure j acquaint you Lady Sandwich[264] was on
Saturday morning at 4 o’clock safely brought to bed of a Son.”[265]

[261] Thomas Robinson.
[262] William Pitt, 1st Earl of Chatham, born 1708, died 1778; “the great
commoner.”
[263] William Murray, 1st Earl of Mansfield, born 1705, died 1793.
[264] Wife of the 4th Earl of Sandwich, cousin of Mr. Montagu’s.
[265] John, afterwards 5th Earl of Sandwich.

In writing to the Duchess of Portland on December 28 to wish her a
happy new year, Mrs. Montagu informs her she has permission from Dr.
Sandys to move towards London in a fortnight’s time. She says—

“I shall move as slowly as a fat corpse in a herse. Your grace asks me if I
have left off footing and tumbling down stairs; as to the first, my
fidgetations are much spoiled, sometimes I have cut a thoughtless caper
which has gone to the heart of an old Steward of Mr. Montagu’s, who is as
honest as ‘Trusty’ in the play of Grief à la Mode. I am told he has never
heard a hop that he has not echoed with a groan. I have taken such heed to
my goings I have not gone down stairs more than by gradual degrees.”

The following passage from a letter of Mrs. Donnellan’s to Mrs.
Montagu shows the price paid for embroidery of flowers which was much

used at this time on dresses. She says—

“I have spoken to Jenny Clegg about your sack. She always works
according to the price, the slightest trimming down to the bottom, of natural
flowers she says will be £8, and the handsomest £12, and between in
proportion. I gave her 4 guineas for my apron, and she has always three and
a half or four for the robings and facings of a night dress.”

A “night dress” was what we should call an evening dress now.
In a letter to Mrs. Donnellan a light is thrown on A COOK
that ever-important functionary, a cook. That
individual being required, Mrs. Donnellan had mentioned a cook who had
been with Lady Selina Bathurst. Mrs. Montagu writes—

“As to the Cook being an Irish woman, I think it can be no objection to
me who prefer a lady[266] of that country to almost any one of our own; she
being a good catholick is not much, but I think it will not be right to take
her unless Lady Selina Bathurst says she is a good cook, for had she all the
cardinal virtues, and could not fricasy (sic) and make good soop (sic) I
should not know what to do with her. I would give £15 a year to a very
good cook, but if she is not above being improved, and I could get her to go
into the King’s kitchen, or to any famous Tavern to learn cookery, I would
give a guinea or two for her teaching, and I heard that in the places I
mention they will take in a person upon such terms. I suppose she will dress
meat on fast days? I like the character of the woman provided she has had
the smallpox, as I would not have any person in the house who might run
me into the hazard.”

[266] Mrs. Donnellan was Irish.

The three Robinson boys were taken by young Mr. Edward Carter to
York, placed in the coach to London, and were met by Griffith, a valet of
Mr. Montagu’s in London, Mr. Montagu taking them in in Dover Street, and
despatching them with a servant to Canterbury, en route for Mount Morris.

On December 28 Mrs. Montagu writes to her CHANCERY SUIT
husband she trusts to set out for London on January
9, and hopes to accomplish the journey in ten or eleven days! The Chancery
suit had been deferred till January 13. A letter of Thomas Robinson’s
regretting his inability to leave the Kentish Sessions held at Maidstone
contains this passage, “I have already two or three retainers for that day, and
have generally the good fortune to be employed in every cause, which
makes the gains of the day considerable.”... He winds up with saying he has
delivered his brief of the Montagu case to Mr. Fawcet, who, he is sure, will
make better use of it than he should.
And so ends the year 1742.

CHAPTER V.
1743–4 — JOURNEY TO LONDON — LETTERS CHIEFLY FROM SANDLEFORD PRIORY,
FROM BATH, AND FROM LONDON — THE DEATH OF HER CHILD.
1743

At last the longed-for day arrived for Mrs. Montagu and her sister to set
out southwards. Mr. Carter, the faithful old steward, insisted on travelling
with them instead of his son Edward, and the description of his excitement
and anxiety shown by his expressions are very characteristic. Arrived at
Doncaster on January 8, Mrs. Montagu writes to her husband and mother,
stating that she could not do so before, as this was the first south post she
had met.
The letter to her mother is dated— THE FLOODS

“Doncaster, Saturday the 8,
“(January).

“Dear Madam,
“I arrived here this evening, without having suffer’d any
inconvenience or fatigue in my whole progress. We were met on Thursday
in Leeming Lane[267] by a Messenger from Capt. Twycross to tell us the
waters were out at Burroughbridge, and that we could not pass them, so I
apply’d to my guide, Mr. Carter, and a wise man is certainly never out of
his element. He told me I might go to Kirby Hill and there get a warm
lodging, though not an elegant one; which he thought would be as well as
turning back. For my part I assured him I had rather have my bed stuffed
with flocks than my pillow with care and disappointment, and agreed to go
on to the place he mentioned, and then send a messenger to see if the waters
were fallen. The Dove returned with an olive branch, and we went on to the
Waterside[268] there to prevent fear (for danger there was none), we got into
a boat and navigated through Mr. Williamson’s gardens, his melancholy
yews just shew’d their formal heads above the water. Himself a melancholy
shade too, was almost in as bad a way, for the water was quite to his door,
so he could get no amusement from the rest of the world, but what he saw

from the windows. We were safely landed at the door of the Inn. The coach
came through the water without getting any wet inside of it, and we all
rejoiced that we had been more afraid than hurt. Mr. Carter, in his care,
often bid me be of good courage; as there was not occasion for any, I could
not be disgraced for want of it: from our first setting out I have not been
less entertain’d than guarded by him, he has really acted the part of Sir
Roger de Coverley all the way; his benevolent heart breaks into such honest
and affectionate expressions, you would think he was talking to his family
wherever he is; at the ‘Oak-tree’ he was, I saw, shaking hands with every
creature. I stopp’d to speak to a servant of Mrs. Yorke’s who met us with
her compliments, and could hear Mr. Carter praising the strong beer,
thanking the Landlord, wishing many good things to a boy who was
stuffing a luncheon of bread and butter, thanking Heaven for good weather,
and commending the road, all in a breath. At Lord Castlecomer’s Inn he
would stop for the horses to eat, he said a sort of grace to it, praying it
might strengthen them to the end of their journey, then he extolled the Inn,
the Landlord and his wife, not forgetting a ‘lile lass’ that stood at the gate:
all the way we went in the boat he commended the boatmen more than an
envious person would have done Christopher Columbus, for exploring leas
and lands unknown; at Borough Bridge he made the funeral Elogy of Mr.
Mann, but not to wrong the living for the sake of the dead, he said the
handsomest things to mine Hostess, the civilest things to her daughters, the
most honourable things of her son, and the most affable things to the
chambermaid, that ever I heard in my life. At Aberforth he was not less kind
to every creature, nor less indulgent to every thing, and he is the same still,
and I doubt not but will be Sir Roger de Coverley to the end of the journey.
I am really pleased by reflection, and though I don’t see everything in his
point of view, I am delighted at his happiness, like the bee he gathers honey
from every flower, nay, weed, which to common taste have no perfection. I
wish I could think as well of all mankind as he does; but he deserves to
think better of it. Benevolence is built so much on faith, that those who
think very ill of people in general, will never do them much good, for
service often arises from trust, and we cannot trust those whom we dare not
believe.”

[267] Leeming Lane, a stage 218 miles from London.

[268] Boroughbridge is on the river Ure.

The end of this letter is lost. Mr. Montagu being A FAITHFUL
unable, from the Chancery cause coming on, to meet STEWARD
his wife, despatched a servant named Griffith, but he,
falling ill at an early stage of the road, deputed another person to meet her.
A most dutiful and affectionate letter occurs here to Mr. Montagu, but too
long for inclusion. Mr. Carter having seen them safe to Leicester, left them
there, where Sarah Robinson had an attack of illness which delayed them a
day. When well enough, they proceeded by way of Harborough, Newport
Pagnell, Dunstable, etc., to Dover Street, London.
Mrs. Freind and Mrs. Botham (Mrs. Sterne’s sister, Lydia), both
expecting their confinements, entreated Mrs. Montagu to stand godmother
to their future babes, to which she consented. Mr. Botham was then Rector
of Yoxall, Staffordshire, and Chaplain to Lord Aylesford,[269] whose
daughter Mary, Lady Andover,[270] was Mrs. Botham’s most intimate friend
and patroness. She was also a friend of Mrs. Montagu’s, to whom she
constantly wrote tidings of Lydia Botham’s frequent illnesses and pecuniary
troubles.

[269] Heneage, 2nd Earl of Aylesford.
[270] Wife to William, Viscount Andover, son of 11th Earl of Suffolk.

The Chancery suit Mr. Montagu had been engaged MR. ROGERS’
in was occasioned by his claiming the guardianship PEDIGREE
of his unfortunate first cousin, Mr. John Rogers, who,
owning large estates at Newcastle-on-Tyne, and East and West Denton near
there, besides much other property, had now been a lunatic[271] for some
years. It will be seen in the pedigree that Mr. Montagu’s mother was a Sarah
Rogers. This table will elucidate the relationship—
{Skip transcribed table} {See image for table}
John Rogers, = Margaret Cock,
of E. and W. Denton. ｜ dau. of Henry Cock, Merchant,
Newcastle-on-Tyne.
｜

｜
｜ ｜
John Rogers, of Denton = Eliz. Ellison, m. Sarah = Hon. Charles
Hall and Newcastle-on- ｜ 1684, at Rogers ｜ Montagu, High
Tyne, etc., Sheriff of Lanchester; d. Sheriff of
｜ ｜
Northumberland, 1693– April 16, 1733. Durham,1686–1709;
94; ｜ ｜ d. 1721.
d. 1709. ｜ ｜
｜ ｜
｜ ｜
｜ ｜
｜ ｜ ｜
John Rogers, Sheriff of = Anne Delaval, ｜ Edward Montagu, b.
Northumberland, 1715– dau. of Sir John 1692, d. May 20,
｜
16; b. 1685, d. June 24, Delaval; d. Jan. 1775.
1758. 3, 1723. ｜ =
｜ Eliz. Robinson, b.
｜ 1720, d. 1800.
｜
｜
｜ ｜ ｜
Crewe, John, Jemima = Mr. Medows,
b. 1694. died s.p. afterwards Sir
Sydney Medows.

[271] Evidently he was a lunatic forty years, and bed-ridden ten.

The Rev. M. W. Peters, R.A. Pinx. Emery Walker Ph. Sc.

Morris Robinson

Old Mr. Rogers had bought East Denton land and A CURIOUS
collieries for £10,900 from the Erringtons in 1689, LETTER

who had long had the property. In December, 1705,
Mr. Rogers bought of Sir James Clavering his share of the West Denton
property. The history of Denton Hall will be given further on. Young John
Rogers appears to have had fits as early as 1718. He married in 1713, Anne

Delaval, who died in 1723 at Seaton Delaval, and he seems to have become
deranged soon after her death. As long as his mother lived he was well
cared for, but she died in 1733, and the last nine years he had been
gradually getting worse, and a set of designing people surrounded him. I
have a letter of his written to his parents, apparently on going to Oxford in
1705, which is so curious that I insert it here. It is addressed—

“To
“John Rogers, Esqr., att
“The House in Newcastle upon Tyne,
“These—”

“Dear Father,
“I hope since that I am fallen into the hands of a gentleman, who is
not only a stranger to you, but to all my relations, that you will do me the
favour to write to my tutor, which I am sure he can’t but take exceeding
well, having never heard from any of my friends since I removed heather. I
had notice by my Mother yt you had ordered me £40, and wonder that as
yett I have not heard from John Nicholson, that, I fancy Mr. Atkinson’s
letter has miscarried. I see Mr. Fremantel here on Sunday night who sett
forward for Newcastle on Monday morning, that I fancy you will see him
before you receive this. We had one man executed here on Saturday
morning who was taken here just a little before our assizes by two Smiths,
he had been twice put in the Gazett for a highwayman, and those fellows
took him, hoped to receive the reward. The fellow knowing himself to be a
great rogue, and that if he escaped here, they would have had a Habeas
Corpus to remove him, sent for the man whose horse it was he had stolen,
to come to challenge his horse, and was indited for it and pleaded guilty,
hoping I suppose to be transported. There was a great interest made at Court
for to save his life, but all would not doo, but by this he has baulked the
fellows yt took him of their £40.
“So with my duty to my Mother and yourself,
“I am, dear Father,
“Your dutiful Son,
“John Rogers.

“Oxon, August 18, 1705.”

MR. MONTAGU’S
Mr. Montagu was made guardian and manager to JOURNEY
Mr. Rogers and his estate. Uneasy as he was at
leaving his wife in her present situation, he was obliged to go to Newcastle
to see into affairs. Sarah Robinson, who had gone home, was quickly
summoned to return to her sister, to which her parents rather unwillingly
gave their consent. Mr. Montagu writes each post, as often as he could,
most affectionate letters to his wife; as he rode all the way, disliking a
carriage, we see by his letters the time the journey took. March 19, he
writes from Nottingham, having been four days reaching there. He says, “If
j was mounted as j ought to be j could without much difficulty reach
Allerthorpe on Monday night, whereas j must now be content if j get there
some time on Tuesday.” He bids her divert herself with her friends and
acquaintances, and to send him good accounts of her health, “as there is
nothing under Heaven that is so dear to me.”
But no sooner had Mr. Montagu set out than the Duchess of Portland lost
her youngest daughter Frances, just two years old, from convulsions after
whooping cough. She forbade Mrs. Montagu coming to see her at first, for
fear of her grief affecting her in her present condition. Mrs. Donnellan and
Mrs. Pendarves were with the duchess, and did all they could to solace her
grief, which was intense. After a few days, however, the two friends met,
and had a sad meeting.
To return to Mr. Montagu’s travels, he got to Allerthorpe, where Mr.
Carter joined him, and they proceeded to Newcastle, to Mr. Rogers’ house,
where

“three attorneys attended to take inventorys of the goods, schedules of the
writings and bonds, and whatsoever we found in the Secretoires etc. of the
unhappy gentleman, but more is owing to the dexterity and unintermitting
diligence of Mr. Carter in the despatch we have made than to everything
else put together. We have found Bonds amounting to near £10,000 value.”

A general oversight was arranged to be taken by Mr. Carter of the estates
and tenants, many of the latter being heavily in arrears in rents. It is
characteristic of Mr. Montagu’s uprightness in business that, though not

obliged to do so, he rendered to Sir James Clavering, Mr. Rogers’ uncle, a
complete account of his estate, of which Sir James greatly approved, and
regretted these steps were not taken ten years before. A Mr. Grey was put in
charge of Mr. Rogers.
Mr. Montagu and Mr. Carter commenced their DARNTON FAIR
journey home, the latter going to Darnton Fair en
route. People rose early for business then. Mr. Montagu states Mr. Carter
“sat up late last night and rose this morning at 3, and set out at 6 for Bedale,
where he will be occupied all day.” He adds, “He is unwearied, j never
knew his fellow. He has lived three times as much as any other man no
older than he, and has done three times as much business and benefited
many and hurt none. I wish j could say as much of those who are in a rank
of life infinitely superior to him.” Truly this is a fine picture of a righteous
steward.
By May 1, when Elizabeth writes to her mother, THE BIRTH OF A
Mr. Montagu had returned to her, she and her sister SON

meeting him at Highgate. Mention is made in this
letter of Miss Brockman having become temporarily speechless from
inoculation. Sarah returns to Mount Morris, and the last letter before Mrs.
Montagu’s confinement tells of the purchase of a “magnifique Berceau” just
in time, as on May 11 Mrs. Montagu gave birth, at their house in Dover
Street, to a fine boy, to the infinite joy of Mr. Montagu and his sister, Mrs.
Medows. A young farmer’s wife, a Mrs. Kennet, living near Mount Morris,
had been engaged as a wet-nurse to the child.
On May 30 the Rev. William Freind, to whom Mr. Montagu had written
to announce the birth of his child, writes to congratulate him, and to say
Mrs. Freind had presented him with a daughter that morning. Mr. Montagu
had promised to stand godfather if it was a boy,[272] but if a daughter Mrs.
Montagu was to be godmother. To this letter, on June 4, Mr. Montagu
replied that his wife and child are doing well, and he says—

“The latter end of next week we intend for the baptism of our infant, and
if you were here should be prouder to have the ceremony performed by you
than anybody else, for if j may judge from what has happened to the Father,
j imagine it would be auspicious to the Son. I am sure j ought never to

forget the share you had in putting me in the possession of the Mother,[273]
in whom j find my every wish more than compleated. In less than a
fortnight we intend going to Sandleford,[274] and after that to go on the
inoculation, which j hope will have an happy event, which, if so, j cannot be
too thankful to Providence.”

[272] This child was christened Elizabeth. She died young.
[273] Mr. Freind had married them.
[274] Mr. Montagu’s seat near Newbury.

He adds his desire for Mr. Freind and his family to visit them at
Sandleford en route home from Bath.
The reader will remember that Mrs. Montagu was INOCULATION
peculiarly afraid of smallpox, but she had determined,
if once a mother, she would be inoculated, so that she should be able to
attend to her child if it ever had the disease, and to prevent separation from
or infection to it if she herself took the disease in the natural manner. When
her dread of it is recollected, it will appear a heroic deed on her part. Her
mother, Mrs. Robinson, was far from easy at the idea of the inoculation
taking place in the summer heat.
Meanwhile the little boy was christened John, though he soon acquired
the nickname of “Punch,” their own familiar peep-show, as the fond parents
deemed him, and is only twice mentioned in the letters I have as my little
“Jack.”
In a letter of June 21, from the Duchess of Portland, who was at Welbeck
with Lady Oxford, she mentions—

“The Duke of Kingston[275] has been in the utmost danger, so great
Doctor Hickman has refrained sleeping part of a night, not without the
assistance of Barbecued Hog, Tokay, etc., etc., etc. to keep up his spirits, to
enable him to go through the immense fatigue of waking a few hours with
his patron.” She adds, “Thank God the children are all well. I hope your
little man is so, my best wishes must ever attend the dear boy.”

[275] He died in 1773, when the title became extinct.

Mrs. Montagu went to recruit at Sandleford with Mr. Montagu,
preparatory to removing the child and establishment there, as she writes to
her sister Sarah, who, with Mrs. Medows, is left in Dover Street in charge
of the son and heir—
BABY CLOTHES
“I really long to have you here. I think I may say
you never saw anything so pretty as the view these gardens command, for
my part I would not change the situation for any I ever saw; there is nothing
in Nature pretty that they have not. The prospect is allegro, and as ‘Mirth
with thee I chose to live,’ I am glad it is of that kind, ‘the loathed
melancholy of Cerberus and blackest midnight, born in Stygeian cave
forlorn,’ dare not appear in this little paradise. There is a charming grove
where your reveries may wander at pleasure, you may allegorize like
Spenser, or pastoralize like the lesser poets, there are roses and
honeysuckles hourly dropping to put you in mind ‘how small a part of time
they share, that are so wondrous sweet and fair,’ and this will whisper to
you ‘de coglier d’amor la rosa,’ indeed, my dear Sall, these pretty things are
mere toys, as are all things in this world, but a true friend. I am thankful for
the benefits of fortune, and pleased with them, but really attached only to
the person who bestows them. My benefactor bestows favours with more
pleasure and more complaisance too, than most people receive them with,
and this gives the relish to favour, for as Ophelia says, ‘Gifts grow cheap
when givers are unkind.’
“I hope the young plant thrives under your care. Pray write every post,
and say all you can about the boy, for as insignificant as he seems in his
swaddling cloaths, it is more interesting to his parents to hear of where he
went, than to hear of all the feats of Hercules girded in his Lion’s skin.”
Then she orders a dozen bibs to be made for the babe, of “fine damask,
the pattern of Lady Betty Bentinck’s pinned to my embroidered quilted
petticoat.”
SANDLEFORD
Sandleford Priory is two miles south of Newbury, PRIORY
Berks. It was originally founded by Geoffry, 4th Earl

of La Perche, and his wife Matilda of Saxony, between the years 1193 and
1202, dedicated to St. Mary and St. John the Baptist, and placed under the
Austin Canons; but Mr. Money, in his “History of Newbury,” states “the
recluses of Sandleford” are mentioned in the Pipe Roll of the 26th of Henry
II., 1180, so that a body of religious had existed there or near before the
date of the building by the Earl de la Perche.[276] In the reign of Edward IV.,
circ. 1480, a dispute arose between the Prior and the Bishop of Salisbury, in
whose diocese Sandleford lay; in consequence of this dispute the monastery
was forsaken, and the King, at the instance of the Bishop (Richard
Beauchamp), gave it to the Dean and Chapter of Windsor. In the 26th of
Henry VIII. it was stated to be in their possession, valued at £10.

[276] His ancestor accompanied the Conqueror to England.

In the time of James I., 1615, Sandleford was declared to be a separate
parish, and unratable from Newbury, but the chapel being dismantled and
unfit for use, £8 a year was ordered to be paid to the Rector of Newbury,
which entitled the occupants of the Priory to a seat in the Newbury parish
church, which has been continued ever since.
The lessees from the Dean and Canons of Windsor appear, from a paper
of my uncle, Lord Rokeby’s, to have been, early in the eighteenth century,
the Pitt Rivers of Stratfieldsaye, by whom the lease was sold in 1717 to
William Cradock, Esq., after an intermediate alienation. The lease was
purchased in 1730 by Mr. Edward Montagu, grandson of the 1st Earl of
Sandwich. A letter of April, 1733, of Mr. John Rogers to his aunt, the Hon.
Mrs. Sarah Montagu, at Sandleford, about the death of his mother, Mrs.
Rogers, and her leaving her sister £10, and each of her three children a ring,
is in my possession, and shows she was then living or staying with her son
Edward.
The chapel is erroneously stated in several works (vide Tanner, etc., etc.)
to be destroyed. It was disused, not destroyed, though the bells, seats, and
the tomb of the crusading knight[277] had disappeared. As we proceed
further into the manuscripts we shall see it was used as a bedroom or
rooms!

[277] Probably Count Thomas de la Perche, son of the founder, as his father was
buried at St. Denis Nogent. Thomas died in 1217. For a description of the tomb,
etc., see note at the end of this book.

The situation of the Priory is charming, the principal rooms fronting
south on a slight eminence, sloping to the river Alebourne, now called
Enborne, which crosses the high-road just below the lower lodge, and skirts
the south side of the park. On the east the ground slopes to a wooded valley,
down which are many ponds, dating from the monks’ time, some of which
were joined together by Mr. Montagu, afterwards more by his widow, to
form lakes. Many fine trees surround it in these days, and at the time of Mr.
Montagu’s first living there, seem to have been exceedingly numerous; also
walled gardens, which are now removed. Beyond the valley to the east the
ground rises in a wooded ridge. The village here mentioned must have been
a few cottages near the mill on the west, which existed where Sandleford
Lodge is now built: these have all long ago disappeared.

SANDLEFORD PRIORY.

To the duchess Mrs. Montagu wrote in raptures of A PARSON AND HIS
the beauties of Sandleford, but in the middle of her WIFE
description states, “Here was I interrupted by a
Parson, his wife and daughter, and I shall not be reconciled to ‘Prunello and
grogram’ again a great while, they robbed me of those hours I could have
dedicated to your grace.” Prunello was the woollen stuff then used for
clerical gowns, grogram a coarse kind of taffety, a mixture of silk and
mohair, applicable to feminine attire.
Mrs. Botham writes on July 8, that as Mrs. Montagu was unable, when
her baby was born, to be applied to, she had given him his father’s name,
John. Lydia Botham had two, if not three, daughters, but this was her first
son.
From Sandleford Mrs. Montagu returned to THE COUNTESS OF
London, intending to be inoculated, but in a letter of GRANVILLE
July 12 she informs the duchess that Dr. Mead
considered she had better defer the operation till the heat of the summer was
over—in September. In the same letter she states that Mrs. Medows and
herself had called on the old Countess of Granville,[278] who appears to
have been a most garrulous old lady, and Mrs. Montagu says—

“She fell with all her violence on my complexion, and behold, she
certainly by her description takes my forehead to be tortoishell, my cheeks
to be gold, my eyes to be onyx, and my teeth amber: all these are precious
things, but Mr. Montagu not having so rich a fancy as King Midas, I know
not whether he would like such a wife. Your Grace may believe I was
extremely mortified. The good woman says Mrs. Medows looks better and
younger for being married; but for me I am pale and green, and describes
me as worse than the apothecary that lives about the rendezvous of death in
Caius Marius. She is of opinion that lying in has spoiled my face; true it is I
have furnished a noble pair of chops to the little boy, and if mine are a little
the lanker for it, I scarce grudge it....”

[278] Grace, Viscountess Carteret, and Countess Granville in her own right.

Further on she says, “Thank you for your kind inquiry after the young
‘Fidget,’ who loves laughing and dancing, and is worthy of the Mother he
sprang from. As for Mrs. Donnellan, she is well. Mrs. Delany is better than
well.”
Mrs. Pendarves had been married on June 9 this same year to the Rev.
Dr. Patrick Delany,[279] afterwards Dean of Down, and an intimate friend of
Swift’s.

[279] Dr. Delany, born 1686, died 1768; made Dean 1744.

The Montagus, accompanied by Sarah Robinson, MONKEY ISLAND
now moved with the child to Sandleford. A letter to
the Duchess of Portland of July 26 says—

“Sandleford, near Newbury.

“Madam,
“If I was as good a poet as Boileau[280] I would complain of
l’Embarras de Londres, and also of l’Embarras de la Campagne, and of the
still greater embarras of travelling from one place to another. When I had
the happiness of your letter, I was so encompassed with boxes, trunks and
portmanteaus, and even that lesser plague of band-boxes, that I could not
give myself the pleasure of writing to your Grace. Bag and baggage we
arrived here on Thursday night: first marched the child crying, nurse
singing, and the Abigails talking; Mr. Montagu, my sister and myself
brought up the rear. We had fine weather and a pleasant journey. We took a
boat from the Inn of Maidenhead Bridge, and rowed round his Grace of
Marlborough’s Island.[281] I had the pleasure of reflecting on the agreeable
morning I had spent there with you.”

[280] Nicholas Despreaux Boileau, born 1636, died 1711. French poet of note.
[281] Monkey Island. See ante.

Further in the letter she states the duke[282] had planted some cannon on
the borders.

“Mrs. Medows has promised to take the child while I am sick,[283] and I
am best satisfied that it will be with her, for I am sure she will take care of
it, and thank God! it is a very strong healthy child; indeed were he
otherwise I should not leave him, for I think when they are sickly, no one
can be tender enough for them but a parent.”

[282] Then the 3rd Duke of Marlborough.
[283] Meaning when she was to be inoculated.

She says—

“Dr. Courayer dined with us the day before we left town: he was more
elated with having a letter from you, than he had been dejected with the
overthrow of the French;[284] he looks well, and his mind is the seat of
tranquillity. Donnellan promises to come down here soon. I hope she will
stay till I go to London to be inoculated.”

[284] Alluding to the battle of Dettingen, fought in June, 1743.

In alluding to a lady who had “excellent sense and WOMAN’S
wit, but a want of softness in her manners,” she adds EDUCATION
—

“This is of great consequence to a woman to keep off disagreeable
manners, for the world does not mind our intrinsic worth so much as the
fashion of us, and will not easily forgive our not pleasing. The men suffer
for their levity in this case, for in a woman’s education little but outward
accomplishment is regarded. Some of our sex have an affectation of
goodness, others a contempt of it from their education; but the many good
women there are in the world are merely so from nature, and I think it is

much to the credit and honour of untaught human nature that women are so
valuable for their merit and sense. Sure the men are very imprudent to
endeavour to make fools of those to whom they so much trust their honour
and happiness and fortune, but it is in the nature of mankind to hazard their
peace to secure power, and they know fools make the best slaves.”

A letter early in August to the duchess, who had now returned to
Bullstrode from Welbeck after visiting Matlock, says—

“I was in hopes to have heard when you would come to town. I wish you
may come up to us soon after the 24th (August) of this month, which is the
time I propose for going to London for inoculation. I think there is no
danger of hot weather after the middle of September. Dr. Mead says it is the
best time for me....
“Matlock must be well worth seeing, we have nothing here of the wild
and uncultivated sort. I intend to go and indulge Reveries at an old
Castle[285] where Chaucer made his fairies gambol, with as much grace and
prettiness as the Muses of old on the hill of Parnassus. The Castle is on a
rising just above Newbury, and commands a pretty view of the country. The
prospect is of sufficient extent to let the poetick fancy soar at pleasure
among the beauties of Nature. Pray where is ‘Pen,’[286] will she produce a
sprig of bays? it must be a little Master Apollo or a Miss Minerva from
parents of such art and science. I have sent your Grace a copy of a letter
Lord Orford[287] sent to General Churchill,[288] if ever he was to be envy’d
it was when he wrote that letter: it seems to come from a mind pleased with
everything about it, and easy in itself, amidst the refinement of luxury and
expense, without the madness of intemperance, or inconveniences of
prodigality.”

[285] Donnington Castle.
[286] Mrs. Delany’s old pet-name.
[287] Alias the great Sir Robert Walpole.
[288] General Charles Churchill, commonly called “old Charles Churchill,” to
distinguish him from his son, who afterwards married Mr. Edward Walpole’s
daughter; he was the illegitimate son of James II. and Arabella Churchill.

The end of this letter is missing. Lord Orford’s LORD ORFORD’S
letter, written in an unknown hand, is thus:— LETTER

“Houghton, June 24, 1743.

“Dear Charles,
“(Lord Orford’s letter to General Churchill.)
“This place affords no news, no subject of entertainment for fine
men. Men of Wit and Pleasure about Town understand not the charms of the
inanimate world: my Flatterers here are Mutes: the Oaks, the Brookes, the
Chestnuts seem to contend which shall best please the Lord of the
Mannour; they cannot deceive, they will not Lye. I in sincerity admire them
and have as many Beauties about me as fill up all my hours of dangling,
and no disgrace attends me from 67 years of age. Within doors we come a
little nearer to real Life, and admire upon the almost speaking canvass all
the airs and graces which the proudest of Town ladies can boast, with these
I am satisfied, because they gratifie me with all I wish, and all I want, and
expect nothing in return, which I cannot give. If these, Dear Charles, are
any Temptation, I heartily invite you to come and partake of them. Shifting
the scene sometimes has its recommendation, and from Country Fare you
may possibly return with a keener appetite to the more delicate
Entertainments of a refined life.
“I am, dear Charles, etc.,
“Orford.
“P.S.—Since I wrote the above we have been surprised with good news
from abroad. Too much cannot be said about it, for it is truly matter of
infinite Joy, as it is of Infinite Consequence.”

Lord Orford is here alluding to the battle of Dettingen.
The duchess, in a letter of August 26 from THE DUCHESS OF
Bullstrode, says, “Thanks for Sir Robert’s letter, I had MARLBOROUGH

never seen it.” In alluding to the tiresome etiquette
and interference she suffered from at Welbeck under Lady Oxford’s
despotic rule, she says—

“I please myself that my children will love me better, as my
covetousness will not be obliged ’em to pay me court, and as I shall have no
suspicion of their duty, but be convinced that their motives proceed from
disinterested love, and by that means we shall each of us be happy. Was the
Duchess of Marlborough[289] possessed by one good quality? I should think
she deserved pity more than the poorest creature in the street, not to have
one child, but what wishes her dead, nor capable of knowing the
enjoyments of friendship.... We propose being in London Monday
sennight.”

[289] Sarah, the celebrated Duchess of Marlborough.

On Thursday, August 25, Mrs. Montagu took a sad leave of her little
boy, and started on her journey to London, sleeping at Windsor, at the house
of her sister-in-law, Mrs. Medows. Mr. Montagu remained with the child till
the time his wife should be inoculated, when he was to join her in London,
and Mrs. Medows was to take charge of him. Sarah joined her sister in
London; it will be remembered she had had the disorder.
As inoculation is now out of date, I shall extract PREPARATION FOR
from the various letters the mode of procedure. INOCULATION
Arrived in Dover Street, Mrs. Montagu is told by
Elias, the duchess’s porter (then a most important domestic magnate), his
mistress was coming to London on Monday. She therefore writes to beg the
duchess, the duke, and Mr. Achard to dine with her that day “at 4 or 5
according to their convenience.” Business, however, prevented the duchess
leaving Bullstrode for a week, but she is reinvited, as Dr. Mead says Mrs.
Montagu will not be infectious till the disease appears. Meanwhile, in
preparation for the dreaded operation, she was “dosed, then blooded,
another dose or two of physick is all I shall want, and then proceed to meet
that distemper I have been running from these four and twenty years: it is at
present my misfortune the smallpox is so little stirring they cannot find a
subject.” She writes to the duchess also in another letter, “Though Dr.
Mead, Dr. Cotes, Mr. Hawkins, and the subaltern of the Physical faculty, the
Apothecary, have been smallpox-hunting this week, they have not procured

a subject for me.” She urges the duchess to dine, “as I shall be as well till 7
or 9 days after the operation as ever I was in my life.”
The duchess had been out of order with hysterical fits, and states she
was ordered to drive in a chaise. Of this vehicle we gain a glimpse from this
allusion of Mrs. Montagu’s in answer to the duchess, “A chaise is health,
spirits and speed, a lady must lay aside her hoop, her laziness and pride,
before she is diminutive enough for a chaise.” A portion of a very beautiful
letter, written by Mrs. Montagu to her husband before he joins her, I copy—

“Dover Street, Tuesday, August 30.

“My Dearest,
“The happiest moments I have spent since I parted from you, were
those I employed in reading your letter: accept the sincerest thanks a
grateful and tender heart can make to the most kind and generous love.
While Heaven shall lend me life, I will dedicate it to your service, and I
hope our tender engagements shall not be broke by the cruel hand of fate.
Notwithstanding the distemper I am going into, I have great hopes of my
life, and a certainty of my love to you as long as that life shall last. Your
kind behaviour and conversation has made my Being of such value to me
that I am taking the best means to preserve and secure it from hazards, but
let not the experiment cost you an anxious thought. It would be a reproach
to the laws of Nature, if one as virtuous as you are, should not be sure to be
happy. I trust you shall ever be so independent of a weak woman, who can
serve you in nothing but wishes: could I reflect back the happiness I receive
from you, I should tremble at my own importance to think of sinking from
happiness to insensibility, and nothing might overcome my little courage,
but to imagine I left you a portion of sorrow and regret as a burthen on all
your years to come, would not only afflict but even distract me.”
THE REV.
The same day that she wrote this letter to her CHRISTOPHER
husband, she writes a note to Mrs. Donnellan, who DONNELLAN
had joined her brother, the Rev. Christopher
Donnellan, at Tunbridge Wells. He, having been ordered to drink the waters,
and having crossed from Ireland for that purpose, Mrs. Montagu says,
“Does not your brother think he is in Babel? How does he like English

women with French dresses and French manners? In short, what does grave
good sense think of Tunbridge?”
By Mr. Montagu’s desire, Dr. Sandys was added to the previous M.D.’s.
A day or two after this Mr. Montagu joined her, and she was inoculated on
September 3.
On September 7 Mrs. Montagu writes to Mrs. WHEATEARS —
Donnellan— ARMY DISCIPLINE

“My very dear Friend,
“As the time that passes between the expectation of a matter of
importance and its happening is not a time of the greatest pleasure and
tranquillity, you will be glad to hear it is four days since I was inoculated. I
am still well and in perfect good spirits: it would be a sign of levity as I
should be sorry and ashamed to find in myself to be disturbed at the
approach of a distemper I have been seeking. The Duchess of Portland
spent the day with me on Monday, and was here again with Lady
Wallingford yesterday, and I expect her Grace this afternoon. In the
meantime I hope to hear from you, and my sister will give you intelligence
of me. Dr. Mead and Dr. Cotes attend me; I have given them on their
prescribing two guineas apiece, but I am told when Dr. Mead attends
constantly, one guinea a day will be enough, if he comes only once a day,
but I wish you would be so kind as to enquire and let me know when you
write to me; and I will beg you to order your maid to buy 2 Dozen
Wheatears[290] and send them by the Haye Coach. Mr. Montagu never saw
any, so if you please to tell your servant to send them with the feathers on.
“I am extremely glad to hear Mr. Donnellan finds benefit by the waters.
Your family in Town flourishes much,[291] Mr. Percival is a young beau,
Mrs. Percival has grown almost a toast, and for Mrs. Shuttleworth,[292] she
is a perfect beauty, she has a bloom like fifteen; I never saw anyone look so
fresh and jolly.
“The town is full of reports of the discontent of the Army, it is almost
feared the English and H(anoverian)s should fall upon each other. A gun
going off while the Captain was at dinner, he bade General Honeywood go
and see what was the matter; the General brought word it was nothing, upon

which the great Captain sent a H(anoveria)n officer, who brought word it
was the musket of a soldier upon guard; the Captain then cry’d he could
have no truth from the E(nglis)h and that the E(nglis)h had no discipline:
the D(uk)e of M(arlboroug)h said they had as much discipline as the
H(anoverian)s, for that coming by their quarters, a ball went under his
horse’s legs.
“Mr. Hawkins[293] comes every day to dress my arms, though the
wounds given for the inoculation are very trifling, he does not think from
the appearance of them I shall be ill yet. I shall be glad when the proper
period for it arrives, but must wait with patience; it is said people do not
know themselves, but by the little anxiety I have about myself, one would
imagine I knew myself to be of as small consequence as I really am.... My
dear little Babe is perfectly well....”

[290] Wheatears are delicious eating. They are migratory, and only frequent
certain counties. They appear to have been more plentiful formerly. Sussex and
Surrey are favourite localities.
[291] These are Mrs. Donnellan’s stepfather and her mother.
[292] Mrs. Shuttleworth was evidently a relation.
[293] The surgeon.

DENTON HALL.

To this I subjoin a portion of Mrs. Donnellan’s PHYSICIANS’ FEES
answer from Tunbridge Wells—

“I received your comfortable letter, writ with the spirit of a Christian, a
Philosopher and a woman of true fortitude. Since you don’t expect any
appearance yet, I may venture to write, or if you should not be quite well,
my letter is of no consequence, and may be thrown by. I will allow all your
reasoning for yourself to be very good, and will not dispute with you now,
whether you are of consequence to the world or not, I will only beg you to
act as if you were, and take care of yourself for the sake of the few, and let
the world come in for its share of you by an by. I am of opinion one guinea
a day is sufficient from a private gentle woman to any Physician in
England, if he makes but one visit. I know all our family, and greater than
us never gave more either to Hollins or Willmot; indeed if they prescribe
twice they must be paid twice, but that I hope and believe will not be your
case. I am not acquainted with anyone who makes use of Dr. Mead, but I
suppose he is fee’d like other Physicians of note, and I think raising these

sort of things on one another when they are already high enough by
conscience is wrong....
“Our company quits us apace, but as there is not one body but Lady
Sunderland[294] and Miss Sutton and Lady Catherine Hanmer that I care
particularly for, and they stay, I am quite easy about the matter. I generally
take a rural walk with my maid and man, and I am just returned from the
Rocks, whose natural beauties strike me more agreeably than the laboured
work of a palace. My brother rides every day, but walking does not agree
with him.... No one here cares for a walk that carries them further than
Tod’s Room or Chenevix’s Shop.[295] In the evening I conform with the
world, and play at Whisk, Roli Poli, or what they will, and make them
wonder that a person who has a guinea in their pockets and can perform at
such entertainments, should prefer wandering in fields and woods with
company little better than the creatures that inhabit them.”

[294] Née Judith Tichborne, third wife of Charles, Earl of Sunderland; remarried
Right Hon. Sir Robert Sutton.
[295] A famous fancy-shop.

On September 12 Mrs. Montagu writes to the duchess, who had returned
to Bullstrode, to say Mr. Hawkins did not believe, from the appearance of
her arms, she would have the smallpox. Dr. Mead and Dr. Cotes had
attended the day before, expecting to find inflammation, but the wounds
appeared healed. From this it appears the surgeon attended the wounds
daily, and doctors occasionally. The very next day (September 13) Mr.
Hawkins pronounced there was no longer a chance of the smallpox.
Mrs. Montagu writes to the duchess, “As Anacreon who swallowed
many a hogshead of the juice of the grape was at last killed with a little
grape stone, I who have missed the dire disease, am grumbling with the
toothache.”
The duchess writes to Mrs. Montagu to beg her to POPE’S GROTTO
think that though the smallpox has not appeared, she
is as much secured as if it had. On September 15, as a wind-up to the
inoculation, Mrs. Montagu “was blooded.”

“On Saturday we went to see Mr. Pope’s[296] garden and grotto, to
Hampton Court and Bushey Park,” she writes to the duchess; and on
Wednesday she was intending to pay a visit to her parents at Mount Morris,
Kent, before returning to her child, for whom, she says, “her heart sickens.”
On October 8 she proceeded to Sandleford, leaving Mr. Montagu, who had
business, to follow in a few days; and she writes to the duchess from the inn
at Maidenhead Bridge. In this letter she says she has great difficulty in
“squeezing the cotton in the ink bottle which I am forced to do before each
word, and as my pen is as prodigal of ink, as the bottle is sparing of it, after
I have been half an hour replenishing my pen, one inconsiderate blot
squanders it away.” This alludes to the strange habit of having cotton placed
in the inn inkstand, under the delusion that it made it last longer. The whole
writing of the letter is thick and blotted. She also mentions, “My sister set
out for Bath this morning, with Mrs. Cotes. Poor madam Sally’s stomach is
greatly out of order, and her nerves are often affected, but I hope the waters
will do her good.”

[296] Pope’s villa and grotto at Twickenham.

Mrs. Cotes was the doctor’s wife, and a sister of A HIGHWAYMAN
Lord Irwin, a great friend of Sally’s, very small in
stature and pretty, familiarly called “the little Madam.” The two ladies,
accompanied by Mrs. Cotes’ footman, set out for Bath, diverging from
Newbury for a night at Sandleford to see “Punch.” A passage from a letter
of Sarah’s will show the perils of the road. They travelled in a post-chaise—

“A man set out with us from London, and kept us company about seven
miles. He often asked the footman who we were, and whether we were
going over Hounslow Heath; to the last he made no answer, but after being
tired with his curiosity told him we were only ladies’ maids, upon which he
forsook us, either being too proud to accompany abigails, or supposing we
had not money enough to make it worth his while to go on to Hounslow
Heath with us. We had one post-boy that pleased us extremely, he sung all
the way, our pleasure did not arise from any music in his voice, but from
seeing him so happy, and admiring the power of a contented spirit, that
could make a person so joyful, that was at the caprice of any one, without

any greater advantage than a shilling’s reward, and who is always to be
jolted almost to death, by the only creatures that are beneath him.”

Almost shaken to pieces, they arrived at their lodgings at Mrs. Elliot’s,
in the Orange Grove, Bath. Sarah describes the rooms as small, but
comfortable, “looking down Wade’s Passage and into the coffee-house,
which is a guard to the windows, and very often prevents their approach.”
She grumbles at the expense of their journey, but says provisions are cheap,
fowls one shilling each.
Jenny, her maid, had travelled by coach, a post-chaise of that time only
holding two people. Here is a passage worthy of Fielding, “Jenny travelled
down unspotted and pure with the old parson, who gave her no comfort, but
one spiritual kiss upon getting to the end of their journey.”
Both Mrs. Cotes and Sarah suffered from the DANGERS OF A
hardness of the post-chaise, and Sarah also hints that POST-CHAISE

other visible effects had been incurred which would
last for days; hence fleas, if not worse, must have existed in it! Mrs.
Montagu, in writing to condole with them, says, “It is a daring mind that
ventures in a post-chaise. I wonder the partizans of these vehicles do not
establish a broad bottom, and a competent share of cushion.” The vehicle
was, from what I make out, a two-wheeled chaise. Mrs. Cotes’ footman had
been directed to call, on his way back to London, on Mrs. Montagu. The
style of speech of a servant of this period is shown in this passage—

“Mrs. Cotes’ man called very civilly, and brought me your last letter.
‘Pray, Mr. Thomas,’ says I, ‘did you leave the ladies well?’ ‘Yes, and very
merry, Madam.’ ‘They had a good journey, I hope?’ ‘Yes, a very merry,
Madam.’ ‘They were not at all afraid?’ ‘No, nothing but very merry,
Madam.’ ‘Were they not tired when they came to their inns?’ ‘No, always
very merry, Madam!’ At last Thomas’s account made me ‘so merry,
Madam,’ I was forced to retire to laugh.
“Your nephew gets his share of sunshine every day, his teeth tease him
and produce the dew of sorrow on his little cheeks sometimes, but in a
moment it is forgotten, and he is always lively, and in continual health: he is
thought to grow like his mother, so I think I may cease to be handsome with
a good grace, as I have transferred it to my offspring.... Your nephew is in

his birthday suit, laughing so I can hear him through the doors; the
usurpation and authority of those bandages called garments he is too full of
Whig principles to approve of!”

There were no babies’ carriages in those days, so “PUNCH’S”
little Punch drove out daily in the chariot, not to be CHARIOT

confounded with the coach, a much larger vehicle.
In the same letter it appears that the good old Yorkshire steward, Mr.
Carter, had had a bad fall, and the house in Dover Street not being large
enough, Morris Robinson was trying to secure them one in Bruton Street.
Mrs. Montagu, having suffered from weakness and hysterical fits, was
recommended to ride daily—a pastime which was agreeably varied by the
cutting of new walks through the Sandleford woods, and the continual
amusement afforded to her and Mr. Montagu by the contemplation of their
child’s too precocious ways.
A few details of life at Bath may prove amusing. Sarah writes to her
sister that the waters agree very well with her, but that people are amazed at
her walking between each glass. She had found a companion in Mrs.
Wadman, Lord Windsor’s sister, whom she had met at the pump-room, as
they drank the waters about the same time, and both were fond of walking.
The Rev. W. Freind and his wife were at Bath, and Sarah goes to hear
him preach a charity sermon,

“the best I ever heard. I am going to dress to the best of my skill and power
for the sake of his Majesty, this is kept as his birthday, and there is to be a
ball and supper to-night, the men have subscribed on purpose. Mr. Simon
Adolphus Sloper[297] is to be my partner, and has sent me his tickets, which
will carry in Mrs. Freind also. Mrs. Cotes’ cold is too bad to go.... The
Archbishop[298] is much censured for going away so soon, he has not tried
the waters long enough to know whether they would be of any use to such
an extream case as his.... Mrs. Potter would let her husband see nobody but
herself, and took his duty of preaching upon herself; she tempered it with a
comfortable compliance, and when he used to say ‘I am sure I shall dye, I
wish it might be at home,’ ‘To be sure, my dear,’ answers the good wife, ‘it

is proper you should dye where you like, if you chuse it you shall go and
dye at Lambeth.’ ...”

[297] Mr. Sloper lived at West Woodhay, near Newbury.
[298] John Potter, born 1674, died 1747. Archbishop of Canterbury.

At one of the balls Sarah did not dance, but she A BATH BALL
said she did not regret it, “having no inclination to
dance with any man but Mr. Pitt,[299] and that I have not acquaintance
enough with him to expect, I can only cherish my hopes of future good
fortune.” At another ball she dances with Mr. Vanburgh, “a very pretty sort
of man, but our affections to him are quite Platonic, as he is in love with the
youngest Miss Nash.” This must have been the sister or daughter of Mr.
Richard Nash[300] (“Beau Nash”), the despotic Master of the Ceremonies at
Bath. He was not well at this time, and Mrs. Montagu sends her kind
regards and condolences on his health. Amongst other people mentioned at
Bath by Sarah were the Duke of Hamilton, Lord Berkeley, Mr. Powlett, and
Mr. Bathurst, son of Lady Selina, the two Offleys, Mr. Greville, and Lord
Robert Carr, said to be very handsome.

“Last night in the middle of the dancing we drank tea with a gentleman
who had invited about twenty of us some days before. They give tea now
almost as much of common days as they used to do on Sundays.”

[299] Afterwards Earl of Chatham.
[300] Richard Nash, for fifty years Master of the Ceremonies, Bath.

Sarah says she is going to play shuttlecock with a Mr. Amiens,[301] at the
end of this letter; and in the next she states—

“I played at Shuttlecock about half an hour, there were five couple of us:
in truth I played so much better than any in the room, I put them all in
amazement, but it was rather owing to their bad play, and to my being

matched with the two men that played the best, than my superior skill.... In
my last I mentioned I was going to the ball: there was a table of
sweetmeats, jellies, wine, Biskets, cold Ham and Turkey set behind two
Screens, which at 9 o’clock were taken away, and the table discovered....
Above stairs there was a hot supper for all that would take the trouble to go
up.”

[301] I think this was Mr. Amyand?

The ignorance of some ladies of this period is “MATHEMATICAL
shown by Sarah in the following extract:— INSTERATION!”

“A lady told us last night that Miss Molyneux is so great a
Mathematician that she can inster Greek, and that often a dozen of the most
learned men of the Kingdom had puzzled their wise heads about a piece of
Greek, and could make nothing of it; they proposed to send it to Miss
Molyneux, and she instered it (alias construed it), and returned them her
insteration!”

Whilst Sarah was at Bath, Mrs. Montagu wrote frequently to her mother
at Mount Morris, much, naturally enough, about her child, about whom the
fond grandmother was never tired of hearing. A little sentence gives a clue
to his looks, “If my Father has drawn a blue-eyed simpering Cherubim, you
may fancy him not unlike your grandchild; the child’s eyelashes are black
and long, and he has a laughing look in his eyes, blue, like my Father.” He
was still toothless, and suffered much with his gums, which made his
mother already uneasy. Mr. Montagu had just taken some prodigious sized
carp from a fish-pond at Sandleford, and was throwing three of the old
monks’ ponds, or fish stews, into one large one.
Mrs. Donnellan writes from Bullstrode on October 21, and says her
brother is now going to Bath, where he will stay with their relations the
Mountraths,[302] and that Sarah Robinson, “if she meets him she must make
the advances, all the young ladies do, as he is a grave, stiff Parson.” Dr.
Young and Lady Peterborough[303] were at Bullstrode when she wrote.

[302] 6th Earl of Mountrath and his wife.
[303] Née Anastasia Robinson.

In a letter to the duchess of October 25, Mrs. MIDGHAM
Montagu describes the gardens at Midgham, the seat
of Mr. Poyntz,[304] near Aldermaston,

“to which Mr. Montagu carried me last week, I had no small expectations of
them, both from report and the known sense and genius of the owner....
Over the door of a little grotto he declares for retirement in open fields,
caves and dens, with living waters and woods. Statues of the Muses adorn
his walls, their Arts adorn his mind and inspire him with the elegant
ingenious gratitude that gives this public demonstration of honour to them.
Every venerable oak has a seat under it from whence he takes the sacred
oracles of meditation.... The gardens are of uneven ground, prettily
diversified with hills and valleys. There is a fine bason before the house,
that is always well supplied with water, and inhabited by fish.... I did not
see Mr. Poyntz’s house, as it is not anything extraordinary, it would have
been an impertinent curiosity to desire it, as they visit here when in the
country.”

[304] Right Hon. Stephen Poyntz, Lord Treasurer.

Mrs. Donnellan writes for the duchess as well as herself in reply, Lady
Oxford being there, and all the usual writing-hours given up to playing
Pope Joan with her. In this letter, alluding to “Punch” watching with
pleasure the colour of his bed-curtains, she says, “Master Wesley,[305] who
is the most extraordinary child for sense I ever knew, at three months old,
used to be put in a good humour with a suit of tawdry Tapestry hangings.”

[305] This was Garrett Wesley, afterwards Earl of Mornington. He was Mrs.
Donnellan’s godson, born 1735, died 1781.

The Duke of Portland had the misfortune to break his arm at the end of
November, just as the Rev. Dr. and Mrs. Delany had arrived for their first
visit since their marriage on June 9.
In writing to condole with the duchess, a typical A FOOTPAD
story of a footpad is given by Mrs. Montagu. The
duchess had just set up keeping bees at Bullstrode, and Mrs. Montagu
intended to do the same, but laments she cannot

“have anything of a menagerie[306] here, there is no trusting anything out of
doors. The town of Newbury is a melancholy example of the decay of trade,
there is misery and poverty and lawless necessity in an unhappy abundance.
We have robbing upon the commons here very frequently: a poor labourer
who has been digging in our garden last week was very oddly preserved
from a wound by a Buckler made of Cheese, like Sardella in ‘The
Rehearsal.’ The poor man had five shillings in his pocket, when he was
stopped by a footpad. He did not care to surrender his wealth, and so
resisted; another robber came to his comrade’s assistance, and stuck a knife
several inches deep into some cheese and bread he had over his bosom, in a
wallet betwixt his coat and waistcoat. We had a highwayman taken by a
French dancing master a little while ago. When the dancing master carried
him before the Justice of Peace, the Justice asked what day of the month he
was robbed? ‘Ah,’ says the dancing master, ‘me can no tell dat,’ but turns to
the highwayman, ‘but you do know, I pray tell Monsieur, for you must
know what day you did rob, and I pray you now be so civil as tell de
gentleman,’ which, as the highwayman denied the fact of the robbery, was
as good a blunder as one could desire. The highwayman has since cut his
throat, but is likely to recover, only to try the hempen collar.”

[306] Menagerie was the name given to a collection of birds, from rare fowl to
pheasants, etc.

Mr. Montagu had started that morning (December 1) for the meeting of
Parliament, Mrs. Montagu accompanying him “halfway to Reading.”
A letter of December 3 of Mr. Montagu’s shows THE MINISTRY
the state of politics in the House—

“I have been making what enquiry j could about the state of public
affairs, and can learn nothing that is agreeable to one who loves Great
Britain, and is more concerned for his country than the fatal E(lecto)r of
H(anove)r. For though the ministry have been at variance about some of the
treaties mentioned in the Speech and in the Privy Council, they came to
Division, where Lord Carteret and his friends were only four, and the
opposers, j, amongst whom were Mr. Pelham and Lord Chancellor and
others, still matters have since been so far made up amongst them that it is
said they all agreed (by the mediation of Lord Orford) in the speech and
address, which is reckoned to be Lord Carteret’s, and after a division in our
House, the address was carried by a considerable majority, the yeas being
278 against 149 noes. Mr. Pitt exerted himself against the address with his
usual eloquence and with great acrimony against a Minister whom j need
not name, after j shall tell you that in his invective he said what he meant
was not against the Ministry, but against one who was a Minister, and had
renounced Great Britain, who had eat of a certain tree that the Poet tells us
makes People forget everything, even their country, but he hoped the people
would never taste of the fruit of the same tree, nor after his example forget
their country.... Mr. Pelham is to be Chancellor of the Exchequer, Sandys
Pay Master of the Army. The Duke of Marlborough[307] has resigned.”

[307] He resigned his commission in disgust.

A letter of December 4 of Mrs. Montagu to the POPE’S
duchess makes the following comments on the new “DUNCIAD”

edition of Pope’s “Dunciad,”[308] to which he had just
added a fourth book:—

“We got Mr. Pope’s new Dunciad printed, but I think it differs little from
the old one: the new Hero[309] is certainly worthy to have the precedency
over all foolish Poets. I like the last Dunciad for exposing more sorts of
follies than the first did, which was merely upon bad poets and bad criticks.
I am always glad when I see those fops who have translated their manners
and language into French foppery well ridiculed for the absurd

metamorphosis, to ridicule wrong placed pride is of great service, for if it
was not done this land would be over-run with conceit, for here people are
proud of their vices and follies and iniquity, and as long as Pride arises from
such Stocks, we shall never want an increase of it. Milton says, ‘Nought
profits more than self-esteem right placed,’ and surely it is true of that pride
that makes us disdain vice, but that which makes people glory in it is as
pernicious. The British vice of gluttony is openly professed so much, one
can hardly dine at a fashionable table where eating is not the discourse the
whole time, and treated of as an affair of the utmost consequence.”

[308] A satire by Alexander Pope.
[309] Colley Cibber.

In a letter of December 8, after congratulating the MRS. POCOCK
duchess on the duke’s recovery from his broken arm,
Mrs. Montagu adds this description of the learned Mrs. Pocock;[310] it is
interesting, in contrast with that of the lady who insters Greek!—

“I have been petrifying my brain over a most solid and ponderous
performance of a woman in this neighbourhood; having always a love to
see Phœbus in petticoats, I borrowed a book written by an ancient
gentlewoman skilled in Latin, dipped in Greek and absorbed in Hebrew,
besides a modern gift of tongues. By this learned person’s instruction was
Dr. Pococke[311] (her son) skilled in antique lore while other people are
learning to spell monosyllables, but Hebrew being the mother tongue, you
know it is no wonder he learnt it. His gingerbread was marked with Greek
characters, and his bread and butter instead of glass windows was printed
with Arabick, he had a mummy for his jointed baby, and a little pyramid for
his playhouse. Mrs. Pocock lives in a village[312] very near us, but has not
visited here, so I have not had an opportunity to observe her conversation,
but really I believe she is a good woman, though but an indifferent Author.
She amuses herself in the country so as to be cheerful and sociable at three
score, is always employed either reading, working or walking, and I don’t
hear she is pedantic.... She always carries a Greek or Hebrew Bible to
Church.... I desire your Grace to make ten thousand apologies for me to

Mrs. Delany if it is true I have robbed her of a good name, but I hope you
only said this to put me in terrors. I desire my best compliments to her, Dr.
Delany, to whom I wish very well, though I have offered the shadow of a
great injury in seeming to deprive them of each other.”

[310] Daughter of the Rev. Isaac Milles, Rector of Highclere, a very learned man.
[311] Rev. Dr. Richard Pococke, eminent Orientalist, Bishop of Meath, born
1704, died 1765. Dr. Pococke added the “e” to his name.
[312] Newtown.

This was caused by Mrs. Montagu, in a fit of absence, having addressed
a congratulatory letter to Mrs. Delany as Mrs. Pendarves, her former name,
which caused much mirth in the Bullstrode circle.
Mr. Montagu writes on December 8—

“We had yesterday a motion of consequence in the House, which was to
have an humble address presented to his Majesty to forthwith dismiss the
Hanoverians in the British pay, which occasioned a fine debate, and was
carried in the negative by a majority of 50, the numbers being 181 against
131. The same is to come on tomorrow before the House of Lords, and Lord
Sandwich is to begin, which j doubt not he will do in the best manner.”

Dr. Freind, who, with his wife, was invited to spend Christmas at
Sandleford, playfully bids Mrs. Montagu to write him a sermon to preach
before the King, as he will have to do in a few weeks.
The year ends with Sarah and Morris Robinson and the Freinds staying
at Sandleford.
1744

The first letter of interest in 1744 is one from Mr. Montagu to his wife,
written February 23, from London, whither he had returned for the meeting
of Parliament.
After alluding to parliamentary debates and SUGAR TAX
elections, and to the failure of the new tax proposed

upon sugar, “which was carried in the negative by a majority of 8 only, to
the great joy of those concerned in the Sugar Colonies, and the duty is to be
raised on the surplusage of the tax which was given upon spirituous
liquors[313] last year,” he says—

“The danger of the Pretender, if we may believe our wise and vigilant
ministers, is not yet blown over. It is said that a few days ago several French
men of war were seen off Rye and that the Pretender’s Eldest Son has been
seen walking about publickly at Calais, and is styled Charles the 3rd, his
Father having relinquished his rights in his favour; but people seem to be
little affected with any apprehensions of danger, and what the designs of the
French were, a little time will discover; whatever they shall prove to have
been j am heartily sorry for the alarm, and whatever ground or no ground
there has been for the rumour of an invasion, j am afraid it will be made use
of as a pretence for a further plundering of us, and invasion of our pockets,
for j cannot forget what j have heard before j sat in the House, that a
member (I think his name was Hungerford) should say the Pretender was
the best wooden leg a ministry ever had to beg with, and perhaps the
present may have as much inclination to make use of it as ever any of their
worthy predecessors had.”

[313] Tax on spirits, passed 1742–3.

On February 25 Mr. Montagu writes— THE PRETENDER
—
SIR JOHN NORRIS
“Since my last the King has sent another message
to the House with some intelligencies concerning the invasion and the
French King’s[314] answer to Mr. Thompson,[315] our agent in Paris in
relation to the removal of the Pretender’s Son out of France, in pursuance of
treaties which in substance is as follows, viz.:—‘That engagements entered
into by treaties are not binding any further than those treaties are religiously
observed by the contracting parties on all sides. That when the King of
England shall have caused satisfaction to be given on the repeated
complaints that have been made to him of the infractions of these very
treaties of which he now demands the performance, which violations were

committed by his orders, his Most Christian Majesty will then explain
himself upon the demands now made by Mr. Thompson in the name of his
Majesty.’ Besides this there was a long affidavit of a Master of the packet
boat read, letting us know that he saw a young man who was called the
Chevalier, and said to be the Pretender’s Eldest Son, with another young
man, his brother, that there was arrived there Count Saxe,[316] who was to
bring over here in transports, 1500 men, together with several particulars
too long to be inserted here.... The House addressed his Majesty to augment
his forces both by sea and land as much as be necessary, and that they
would defray the expense.
“An express arrived yesterday that Sir John Norris[317] with his squadron
was in sight of the French fleet, that he stood off Romney, and they were at
Dengeness, that he weighed anchor and would endeavour to come up with
them, and bring them to an engagement if possible. It was this morning
reported he had demolished them, but this wants confirmation, as well as
the news of Admiral Matthew’s[318] having beat the Toulon fleet,[319] with
which there has been an engagement.”

[314] Louis XV.
[315] The English Resident.
[316] Maurice, Comte de Saxe, born 1696, died 1750. Field-Marshal of France.
[317] Admiral Sir John Norris, died 1749.
[318] Admiral Thomas Matthews, born 1681, died 1751.
[319] On February 9.

Mrs. Montagu and her sister now joined Mr. Montagu in Dover Street,
leaving little “Punch” at Sandleford with regret. On the way their
coachman, who had met them at Hounslow with their own chaise, ran a race
with a coach and four, and overturned them, but they were none the worse;
in fact, being upset in a carriage in those days seems to have been little
thought of!
A letter of March 4 of Mrs. Robinson from Mount Morris says—

“Sir John Norris is returned into the Downs, and all our fears are over. I
heard that the people of Romney and Lydd had their most valuable goods
packed up and put in carts ready to drive away, if they saw any occasion:
for my part I was very composed, never thinking there would be any
occasion to put myself in a stickle.... I am so good a subject to his Majesty
that I can’t conceive any people would be so foolish to assist France with
setting up a Popish Pretender.”

A letter from the duchess states that she has been reading Lord
Bolingbroke’s “Dissertations upon Partys,” and desires Mrs. Montagu’s
opinion on them. She laughs at the idea of the invasion, and says, “Cecil,
the Pretender’s agent, is taken up, and likewise Carle, and some say Lord
Weims,[320] others his second son Charles.”

[320] James, 5th Earl of Wemyss.

In a letter to Mr. Freind, Mrs. Montagu mentions SIR SEPTIMUS
meeting at a drum of Mrs. Mainwaring’s “My cousin ROBINSON

Septimus Robinson, dressed as gay as a lover, but
whether that was the footing he was upon, I do not know.”
Septimus Robinson was a brother of Mrs. Freind, and, as his name
denotes, was the seventh child of William Robinson of Rokeby. He was
born in 1710, was educated at Oxford, then entered the army, and served in
the ’45, under General Wade. He left the army in 1754; became Governor to
the Dukes of Gloucester and Cumberland, brothers of George III., and
eventually was made Usher of the Black Rod. He died unmarried in 1765.
In the same letter she states—

“Lestock and Matthews are now examined before the Parliament as to
their conduct in the Mediterranean. It is said by some who have read it
Thompson’s[321] new play is equal to [322]Otway’s Orphan and Rowe’s[323]
Fair Penitent.”

[321] James Thomson, born 1700, died 1748. Poet; author of “The Seasons.”
[322] Thomas Otway, born 1651, died 1685.
[323] Nicholas Rowe, born 1673, died 1718. Poet Laureate.

She adds—

“In the morning all throng to the Senate House, and at night to the
playhouse;[324] those who bewail the poverty of the nation in the morning,
part with gold for two hours’ entertainment at the Oratorio at night. Those
who talk of taxation, did they but see how full of powder, and how empty of
thought the heads of the Hydra appear to be, they would fear nothing from
so spruce a set of Senators. I think the town was never so gay or so fond of
amusements.”

[324] Garrick was acting “King Lear” then.

On March 31, 1744, the Duke of Portland wrote to announce the birth of
his second son, Lord Edward,[325] saying—

[325] Lord Edward Charles Bentinck, died 1819.

“I should be wanting in regard to the long friendship which has existed
between you and my wife, were I not to give you the earliest notice of your
friend: she was safely brought to bed of a boy this morning, at three
quarters after 3. She and the child are as well as can be expected.”
“HIDE” PARK
The Montagus now returned to Sandleford to visit
their child, leaving Sarah in Dover Street to await her father’s arrival from
Kent to fetch her. A passage in the following letter throws a light on the
vehicles in use at this period:—

“Passing through Hide Park,[326] we saw capering horses with creatures
on their backs more whimsical than themselves.... Between London and
Kensington were many pert folk in single Horse Chairs, who seemed proud
of the government of the humblest machine, saving a wheelbarrow, that
ever the art of man contrived: one of these chaises had like to have suffered
by contending with his Grace’s coach and six. Towards Uxbridge we met a
leathern vehicle called a flying coach, a most intolerable counterfeit, for in
fact it merely crawls. We passed two or three travelling waggons laden with
many a ton of Humanity, the savour of which would have made the delicate
nostril a misanthrope.... Our dear little fellow is all alive and merry, and
more grown in length than breadth.”

[326] Sic. Query, was it originally Hide Park?

Dr. Freind, now made a Prebendary of A DOMESTIC
Westminster, in addition to his living at Witney, in COMEDIAN!

this year sent a present of Witney blankets to Mrs.
Montagu and a Witney rug to Sarah Robinson. On April 8 Mrs. Montagu
writes to thank him, and says—

“Your kind present is significant of the warmth of a friend. I think there
is great analogy between friendship and a blanket. We have been here
(Sandleford) almost a fortnight, much diverted with the humours of
‘Punch,’ who grows a merry fellow. I like my little comedian so well, I shall
be sorry to change him for the great comedians; my little actor has no
artifice but hide and seek, nor plays any tricks but innocent Bopeep.
“I hope now Lord Carteret is going to take a young, handsome Lady[327]
his politicks will take a milder tone....
“Have you seen Dr. Gregory and his bride? When I saw the Doctor at
Mrs. Knight’s, I did not apprehend he designed to be our dear cousin.”

[327] His second wife, Lady Sophie Fermor, daughter of 1st Earl Pomfret;
married April 14, 1744.

This is the first mention of Dr. John Gregory, afterwards such an
intimate friend of the Montagus. He was the son of Dr. James Gregory, an
eminent physician, by his second marriage with Anne Chalmers, and
grandson of James Gregory, who invented the Gregorian telescope. His
bride, who, judging from the above, must have been a cousin of the
Robinsons, was Elizabeth,[328] daughter of William, 13th Baron Forbes, by
his wife Dorothy Dale. Lady Forbes lost £20,000 in the South Sea bubble.
Dr. John Gregory[329] became a distinguished physician, and an author of
note. Frequent mention of him will be made later on.

[328] She had beauty, wit, and a large fortune.
[329] A daughter of his married A. Allison, and was mother of the historian.

In the same letter Mrs. Montagu urges Dr. Freind to write and
congratulate the duchess on her second son’s birth. The Freinds had just
commenced a friendship with the Portlands.
Mrs. Robinson asks her daughter, who had now GOWNS
returned to London, to buy her a lutestring gown,
“but as I have a tabby of a dark brown, I would have my lutestring pretty
light.” This gown, from a further letter, appears to have cost 6s. 9d. a yard,
and Mrs. Montagu suggests she should buy a French trimming of
Mademoiselle for the same, “a slight pretty thing for a guinea.” A capucin
Mrs. Robinson had ordered; she says, “I like my capucin much better than
that which was shorter, and it is quite good enough for the use one makes of
them.” Probably a hood with a deep cape, as in a previous letter the garment
is described as “always ugly, but useful.”
Mrs. Robinson says, “I suppose you have had your promised visit from
Mrs. Middleton.[330] I believe the doctor would give something to be in the
state of widowhood once again; she is queer and ill-tempered, and he
heartily tired with it.”

[330] Mrs. Conyers Middleton No. 2.

Mrs. Botham, Mrs. Laurence Sterne’s sister, had been in London, and
Mrs. Montagu had written to her mother—

“Mrs. Botham is really quite well behaved, she has not anything of the
Hoyden now. I believe she is one of the best wives and best Mothers, and an
admirable housewife. I bought a very handsome quarter lace cap for my
godson, and presented her with it. Mr. Botham wants to be a King’s
Chaplain, and I have offered her my interest with her Grace of Portland,
who by means of Bishop Egerton and others could easily get it for him.”

To this her mother[331] replies—

[331] Mrs. Botham was Mrs. Robinson’s niece.

“I am much pleased with the character you give of Mrs. Botham, I
always thought her one of good understanding and good temper, and as to
her giddiness, I hope it is partly wore off. I should have been pleased to
have seen her at Horton, if her time had admitted. She always had a
chearful, agreeable disposition. I much fear his being chaplain to his
Majesty, if he should succeed, will be no advantage to him, for as I take it,
must occasion London journeys, and without good interest he may be no
nearer preferment.... I believe his income is but small, and his family
increases very fast. I wish they have not a spirit of generosity much superior
to it, they keep a good deal of company, and of the expensive kind.”

At a party at the Duchess of Portland’s the bride, Lady Carteret, is thus
described by Mrs. Montagu—

“She came in a sack and a night-cap for which she made an apology, and
said she had a cold. I suppose she designs to carry her dignity high enough
by this, particularity of dress. She is handsome enough, has a good air, a
genteel, easy address without any mauvaise honte.”
FANS
In a letter of Sarah’s, May 10, thanking her sister
for a fan, she reminds her she was then at “Mrs. May in Tooke’s Court, in

Cursitor Alley, Chancery Lane.” She also mentions buying a tabby gown,
7s. 3d. a yard, at Wells and Hartley, at the “Naked Boy and Woolpack,” in
Ludgate Street. Mrs. Montagu replying, says—

“I am glad you like the fan; there are some worn at present that exceed
the flails of a mill. Cotes has one that makes an eclipse of her little person
whensoever she pleases to flirt it. I have been buying finery for your
nephew, a famous pink satin coat, and two flowered lawn frocks, extremely
fine.”
A PINK SATIN
“Punch,” being now turned a year old, was to be COAT
weaned, and many were the anxieties and qualms of
his mother on that occasion. Her mother wrote wise advice to her on the
subject, with her experience of a large family. After this she adds—

“He must be most delightful now he runs and prattles, he will look a
little angel in his finery....
“I find you are still a house hunting: as to the house you mention in
Grosvenor Square, I think the fault of it cannot be in the goodness of the
house or situation, for, as I take it, they are all calculated for large fortunes.
“It gave me great joy to hear my Robert got safe to Bengall. I hope by
the end of the summer, we shall have him safe here, and poor ‘Pigg’ with
him.”

“Poor Pigg” was a pet-name for Charles Robinson, who suffered from
weak eyes, and had accompanied his brother on this voyage for health’s
sake.
The weaning of “Punch” was successfully carried out, and we learn from
the letters from Mrs. Montagu to her husband, who was still detained in
London, that he was fed on “milk porridge, bread and rusks, and drinks
milk and water all day.”
A letter of Mr. Montagu’s of June 7 mentions meeting the Duke and
Duchess of Portland coming from church at the Banqueting Hall, White
Hall, and accompanying them home. Mr. Carter, the faithful steward, and
his son Willy, who had just returned from the war wounded, were in town.

“Yesterday I waited on the Duke of Montagu[332] about our young Hero
(Wm. Carter), who will get made a lieutenant, which does not give us the
same satisfaction as a Captain’s commission would do, but the Duke said
they would not do it for him. I am to consult with his agent, Mr. Guerin,
about it.”

[332] John, 2nd Duke of Montagu, born 1705, died 1749; married Mary, fourth
daughter of Duke of Marlborough.

The regiment was probably the 2nd Horse, which the duke then
commanded. The duke was a relation of Mr. Montagu’s, both being
descended from a common ancestor.
Writing to Sarah Robinson, Elizabeth says— A WET-NURSE

“Your nephew continues his manlike behaviour, and scorns to weep over
a trifle, he is quite well, and has been dancing in his shirt on a blanket
spread on the ground, he dances after a droll manner, for not being very
firm on his legs he reels about when he gets out of his common pace, and he
flourishes his hands and legs, and is just a little merry drunken Bacchus.”

Mrs. Kennet, the wet-nurse, was about returning to her farmer husband
in Kent—

“Mrs. Kennet will soon be restored to her husband. We are to make up
her salary to £50. I have given her a good deal of cloaths too, the brown silk
night gown, a brown camblet, two short cotton gowns, and I have dyed my
purple Tabby blue, and added two yards of new to it, which will make her
fine.”
APRONS
The first mention is made in this letter of Mrs.
Dettemere, of whom more anon. This poor woman appears to have been in
a good position of life, and well known to the Robinsons, but unhappy
circumstances had placed her in great distress. Mrs. Montagu says—

“I have collected 3 guineas for her, and put her on a scheme of working
blonde caps. I sold one for her for 7s. 6d. that cost her only 18d.... I am to
lend her £5 to lay out in ribbons, and get her customers, and she is to work
muslin aprons which I will find the materials for, and when she sells them I
am to be repaid.... I wish you would devise a pattern of sprigs for an apron
for Mrs. Dettemere to work, I dare not let her have the same as Mrs.
Medows’[333] apron, but I think to get one of monkeys and squirrels.”

[333] Mr. Montagu’s sister.

Writing to Mrs. Donnellan on June 7, Mrs. Montagu says—

“The country is now extremely delightful, all nature is in bloom, every
being joyous and happy, it seems to me impossible that any citizen of so fair
a world should harbour any gloomy care in their breast. It is a vain pretence
we make to delicacy and taste, while we prefer a dirty town to the country
in the fine Season: all the arts of luxury cannot invent any pleasures equal
to what one receives from soft air, moderate sunshine, a gay scene of
prospect and the musick of the feather’d songsters. Sir William Temple[334]
says his three wishes were, ‘health, peace and fair weather.’ I have often
thought that saying not the least wise of many of his admired sentences.”

[334] Sir William Temple, born 1628, died 1699, at Moor Park, Surrey. Patron of
Swift and his “Stella.”

Mr. Carter, the faithful north-country agent, was now at Sandleford, and
on June 15 Mrs. Montagu writes to her sister, who was staying at Chilston
in Kent with the Thomas Bests. Mr. Best had married Caroline, alias
“Cally,” Scott, of Scott’s Hall, the intimate friend of both sisters. A most
happy marriage it appears to have been—

“Your nephew is really a droll fellow. Mr. Carter is half bewitched with
him, at the first salutation ‘Old Trusty’[335] had tears of joy, he cries out

‘Bonnie Bairn, ye are a fine one, weel worth it, weel worth it, I warrant
hee’s think of me when I be dead and gone, I’se make all t’improvements I
can for him. Thank God he’s have a bonnie estate when all comes in; God
send him to live to an ould man: oh my lady he’s brave company. God’s
blessing light on him,’ thus he ran on for an hour. The child grew
immediately fond of him, cries after him, and will beat away even the
nurse, if she takes him away from Mr. Carter.”

[335] A nickname of Mr. Carter’s.

The Duchess of Portland had promised to give a ORANGE TREES
dozen orange trees from Bullstrode to Mrs. Montagu,
which she was most anxious to have. These trees were to be sent to the Red
Lyon at Slough, where the Newbury carrier was to take them up. They
arrived, after the following vicissitudes, safely:—

“The poor waggoner who was to have brought them was unhappily
killed some days ago by a loaded waggon falling on him; his servant
foolishly left the orange trees because he said he had no room for them, and
at 9 o’clock at night they brought us word the orange trees were left at
Slough. We immediately sent servants with a cart who travelled almost all
night, and brought the trees safe, the next day. They have not received the
least damage, they are blooming, full of fragrance,” says Mrs. Montagu in
her letter of thanks. She also asks for Mr. Achard to instruct her as to their
culture, “whether they should be nailed to the wall, without pruning their
heads, and thirdly what size the tubs should be for those that are to be kept
in that manner.”

Mr. Achard’s instructions were sent, but alas! are lost.
Mr. Montagu being obliged to go to the North to attend to business of
his own, and as trustee to Mr. Rogers, Mrs. Montagu had determined on
accompanying him and taking “Punch” and her sister Sarah with them. It
was with some difficulty she obtained leave of her parents for her sister’s
company, as they considered she had been so much away from them. Sarah

was desired not to come in the stage-coach from Horton, but by a post-
chaise or chariot at Mrs. Montagu’s expense, and

“ask Matt to lend you his footman to ride by the chaise. You know it will
only cost you 3d. a mile more.
“Your nephew has just had his pink sattin coat tryed on, and he was so
fond of it, he scolded and fought every one who approached him, lest they
should deprive him of his new cloaths. He has just learnt to make a bow
with a good grace, and he is very lavish of it.”
ADMIRAL ANSON
Mrs. Donnellan writes from Hampstead, where
she has taken lodgings for her health, on July 4, and she describes Admiral
Anson’s[336] booty being taken to the bank thus—

“I went yesterday morning to London, I found all my folks gone to see
the show of Anson’s wealth carried to the Bank, so I went to my Lord
Egmont’s[337] and saw two and thirty dirty waggons pass by, guarded by a
number of tanned sailors, but we had the pleasure of knowing or thinking
those dirty waggons contained what makes all the pursuits of this world....
“The Duke and Duchess of Portland staid a day longer than they
designed to see this Show. The King and all the royal family were
spectators. The Tars were very happy and dressed themselves in the
Spanyards’ fine cloaths.”

[336] Admiral Lord Anson, born 1697, died 1762.
[337] 1st Earl Egmont, a relation of Mrs. Donnellan’s stepfather.

Commodore Anson had been absent from England three years and nine
months. He had intercepted a Spanish treasure ship, Neustra Signora de
Cabodonga, loaded with treasure, etc., to the value of £313,100 sterling!
[338]

[338] Altogether he obtained £500,000.

Mrs. Donnellan continues—

“I have not yet heard from Mrs. Delany from Ireland. They were stopped
at Chester by the Dean’s having a return of ague, so you see though a fine
preferment may cure, it cannot preserve from future evils. The yacht was
ready and they hoped to sail the next morning.”
CLOTHES
Lord Carteret had just made Dr. Delany, Dean of
Down. Sarah Robinson was to stay in Dover Street a few days to prepare
for her northern journey before joining the Montagus at Sandleford, and
Mrs. Montagu gives her many commissions—

“Mr. Montagu desires you would be so kind as to buy him a purple
tabby for a wastecoat, and a handsome gold lace to trim it; he has got a
pretty Coventry stuff coat making up here, and would have a purple tabby
wastecoat to wear with it; please to consult Morris[339] both as to the
quantity of silk and lace necessary, and also what kind of buttons would be
proper.... Get pink sattin enough for a pair of shoes for your nephew, for he
wants a pair of shoes for his silk coat: get me coarse canvass for the two
little armchairs in the dining room in Dover Street, and buy me shades in
purple worsted to do them in Irish stitch in squares, there must be some
white Thrum for a stitch in each square. I should be glad if you would buy
me a pink French paste cross and earrings, the best you can get at
Chenevix.”[340]

After ordering some table linen to be brought,

“six table cloaths, three dozen napkins, two pair of sheets, 4 pair of
Pillibers,[341] my gold lutestring gown, and my white sack with the flowers,
and a gold handkerchief, my new hoop please pack up. Pack up paper of all
sorts and sizes enough for all our use, and also wax, you will find a
stationer’s shop in my cabinet of which I sent you the key. Bring a stick of
wax for your nephew.”

[339] Her brother, Morris Robinson.
[340] Mrs. Chenevix’s celebrated fancy-shop.

[341] Evidently means pillow-cases.

In a letter to Dr. Freind, Mrs. Montagu says—

“‘Punch’ is a fine fellow, he is greatly improved since you last saw him,
he is now an admirable tumbler, I lay him down on a blanket on the ground
every morning before he is dressed, and at night when he is stripped, and
there he rolls and tumbles about to his great delight.”

Alas! the mother’s joy was turned to grief, for in a few days after, Punch
cut his first tooth with great difficulty and severe illness.
They set out on their journey to the North on July 31, when they started
viâ Oxford, stopping at the Blue Boar there.
The following letter to the Duchess of Portland MR. JAMES
was written from Newbold Verdon, Mr. James MONTAGU —
CAMBRIDGE AND
Montagu’s seat in Leicestershire. He was the elder STOWE
half-brother of Mr. Montagu by Mr. Charles
Montagu’s first wife, Elizabeth Forster, daughter of Sir James William
Forster, of Bamborough Castle, Northumberland. Newbold Verdon had
been left to Mr. James Montagu by his uncle by marriage, Nathaniel, Baron
Crewe of Stene, who married Dorothy Forster.
“Newbold Verdon, August 9, 1744.

“Madam,
“I did not set out on my journey so soon as we proposed; the letter
we sent to my brother Montagu having made the tour of England before it
reached him, so we waited for an answer. The 31st of July we set out for
Oxford, where we spent an agreeable day in seeing new objects and old
friends. The good people from Witney[342] were so kind as to come over to
see us, and show us what was best worthy our attention. The University, I
think, is finer than Cambridge, but does not excel so much as I had
imagined. Alma Mater, however, presides in great dignity there. I had hoped
to have seen Mr. Potts,[343] but was informed he was at Bullstrode, or I
should have sent to have begged the favour of seeing him.

“The mighty Shaw[344] had left the classic ground to take care of his
glebe in the country. The first of August we went to Stowe,[345] which is
beyond description, it gives the best idea of Paradise that can be; even
Milton’s images and descriptions fall short of it, and indeed a Paradise it
must be to every mind in a state of innocence. Without the soul’s sunshine
every object is dark, but a contented mind must feel the most ‘sober
certainty of waking bliss.’ The buildings[346] are indeed in themselves
disagreeably crowded, but being dedicated to Patriots, Heroes, Lawgivers
and Poets, men of ingenuity and invention, they receive a dignity from the
persons to whom they are consecrated. Others that are sacred to imaginary
powers, raise pleasing enthusiasm in the mind. What different ideas arise in
a walk in Kensington Gardens, or the Mall, where almost every face wears
impertinence, the greater part of them unknown, and those whom we are
acquainted with, only discover to us that they are idle, foolish, vain and
proud. At Stowe you walk amidst Heroes and Deities, powers and persons
whom we have been taught to honour, who have embellished the world
with arts, or instructed it in Science, defended their country and improved
it. The Temples that pleased me most for the design to which they were
consecrated, were those to ‘Ancient Virtue,’[347] to ‘Friendship,’[348] and to
‘Liberty.’
“On Saturday last we arrived at my brother Montagu’s, who has made
this place one of the most charming and pleasant I ever saw: the gardens are
delightful, the park very beautiful, the house neat and agreeable, and
everything about it in an elegant taste. My brother has made great
improvements. It was a very bad place when Lord Crewe left it to him, and
had no ornament but fine wood; now there is water in great beauty, grand
avenues from every point, fine young plantations, and in short, everything
that can please the eye. But nothing gives me so much pleasure as the
obliging and friendly reception of the Master, who has entertained us in a
kind and elegant and magnificent manner. The regularity and order of the
family, and the happiness that appears in the countenance of every friend
and servant, gives one pleasure to observe it....
“I am, Madam,
“Your Grace’s most obedient,
Humble servant,

“E. Montagu.”

[342] The Rev. Dr. Freind and wife.
[343] Frequent mention is made of Potts in the letter, but no clue as to who he
was.
[344] Dr. Thomas Shaw, divine and antiquary, also conchologist, born 1692, died
1751.
[345] Stowe in Buckinghamshire, the magnificent seat of Viscount Cobham.
[346] Alluding to numerous temples and monuments in the gardens.
[347] In this are the statues of Greek sages, by Scheemackers.
[348] Erected by Lord Cobham for busts of his political friends.

After leaving Newbold Verdon, the Montagus NEWBOLD
went over Thoresby, the seat of the Duke of VERDON

Kingston.[349] In a letter to Mrs. Freind from
Allerthorpe, where the Montagus had arrived on August 16, Thoresby is
thus described—

“A fine place enough, but does not deserve what is said of it; the cascade
is not pretty, it is regular and formal. The lake from which it is supplied is
fine. The verdure of the park is not good, nor are there fine trees. Our last
stage was to York, where we saw the Assembly Room[350] built by Lord
Burlington, it is prodigiously grand and beautiful.”

[349] The 2nd Duke of Kingston, called by Sir Horace Walpole “a very weak
man, of the greatest beauty, and finest person in England.”
[350] Designed by Richard, 3rd Earl of Burlington, celebrated as an amateur
architect. He built Burlington House.

In a letter to the Duchess of Portland of August “PUNCH’S” DEATH
19, Mrs. Montagu said her boy had borne the journey
well, and was “quite well.” She intended to leave him in Mrs. Carter’s care
whilst she accompanied Mr. Montagu to Newcastle, where the air was not
healthy, and roads very bad. Alas! a few days after, poor little “Punch,” in

cutting another tooth, was taken with convulsion fits and died. The exact
date I am unaware of. Lodge, in his “Peerage of Irish Peers,” states he died
on August 17, and was buried at Burneston.[351] The date of the day is
wrong, as will be perceived by her letter to the duchess. My grandfather
simply states he died of convulsion fits, occasioned by teething, no date; but
as Mrs. Freind wrote to condole with Mrs. Montagu on September 3, it
must have happened soon after her letter to the duchess. As no parents, from
their letters, could have adored an infant more than the Montagus, it may be
judged what a blow this was to them. Many sweet passages about this child
have I suppressed from want of space. He seems to have been of a too
precocious nature in mind and body. He was so large he wore shoes big
enough for a child of four. He ran alone and talked, and mimicked people’s
manners and ways, and was only one year and three months old! “Our little
cherub,” “our sweet angel,” as his father constantly writes of him. The
noble way in which both his parents supported their anguish will be seen by
future extracts from letters. Dr. Freind’s fine letter of condolence to Mrs.
Montagu is indorsed at the back, “Letter from Dr. Freind on the unhappy
loss of my son,” and is much worn with constant reading. He had lost two
children, and was then threatened with the loss of his father,[352] whom he
adored. The poor Montagus, much as they desired children, never had any
more. I sometimes think that this poignant and irrevocable loss turned
Elizabeth Montagu’s thoughts more strongly to literature and knowledge of
all kind. She sought to occupy her mind as a solace for grief, but she never
forgot her loss, and every now and then the bitterness of it is shown in
passages in her letters.

[351] His body was moved to Winchester Cathedral eventually, and is buried with
his father and mother there, by her will in October, 1800.
[352] The Rev. Dr. Robert Freind, died August 9, 1751.

The Duchess of Portland writes on September 7, THE LOSS OF AN
1744— ONLY CHILD

“My dearest and most amiable of Friends,

“Could I have thought I should have given you a moment’s relief
or abated the anguish of your affliction, I should before now have written to
you, but I found myself too much affected to be able to say anything to
lessen it. Thank God, my dear Friend, your Health is good, my dependence
is upon your good understanding and submission to the Divine Will, for no
one can have a higher idea of the Deity than I know you have. Everything is
in His disposal, our blessings, and our afflictions, and He never chastises us
above what we are able to bear. This affliction would have been still more
grievous had you been out of the way.[353] You might have thought some
neglect had been the cause, which now you are convinced was not in the
power of Human Means. There is no misfortune but what God Almighty
discovers His mercy in some means or other, even in our most bitter
calamities. But why should I tell you this, that know and think so much
better than I can do? It is a great comfort to me that you are well, and I hope
you will endeavour to keep so. Miss Robinson has been most excessively
kind in giving me such frequent accounts of you, for which I shall ever
esteem her, and be her most humble, grateful servant.... What would I give
to be with you, my dear Friend, that you might pour out your whole heart,
and utter all your grief, but it is never in my power to be of any service to
those I love. Adieu, God bless and preserve you from any future ill, but that
He may heap many blessings on you is the ardent wish of one that entirely
loves you with the utmost fidelity and will ever be yours.”

[353] This shows Mrs. Montagu was not away at the time of her child’s death.

Thomas Hudson Pinx. Emery Walker Ph. Sc.

Margaret Cavendish Harley
second Duchess of Portland.

To this letter Mrs. Montagu replied— SUBMISSION TO
GOD’S WILL
“Allerthorpe, September 16, 1744.

“I am much obliged to my dear Friend for her tender concern for me; I
would have wrote to you before, but I could not command my thoughts so
as to write what might be understood. I am well enough as to health of
Body, but God knows the sickness of the soul is far worse. However, as so
many good friends interest themselves for me, I am glad I am not ill. I know
it is my duty to be resigned and to submit; many far more deserving than I
am have been as unfortunate. I hope time will bring me comfort. I will
assist it with my best endeavours; it is in affliction like mine that reason
ought to exert itself else one should fall beneath the stroke. I apply myself
to reading as much as I can, and I find it does me service. Poor Mr.
Montagu shows me an example of patience and fortitude, and endeavours to
comfort me, though undoubtedly he feels as much sorrow as I can do, for he
loved his child as much as ever parent could do. My sister has been of great
service to me; and on this, as on all other occasions, a most tender friend. I
am much obliged to you for wishing yourself with so unhappy a
companion: your conversation would be a cordial to my spirits, but I should
be afraid of being otherwise to yours. Adieu, think of me as seldom as you
can, and when you do, remember I am patient, and hope that the same
Providence that snatched this sweetest blessing from me, may give me
others, if not I will endeavour to be content, if I may not be happy. Heaven
preserve you and your dear precious Babes; thank God you are far removed
from my misfortune, and can hardly fear to be bereft of all.[354]
“I am, ever your Grace’s most affectionate
“E. M.”

[354] The duchess then had five children alive.

Lady Andover wrote from Charlton, Wilts, “by A BROTHER’S
Highworth Bag,” to condole with her friend. In this SYMPATHY
letter she mentions that her friend, Lydia Botham
(Mrs. Laurence Sterne’s sister), had nearly died at the birth of a daughter
(Catherine), but was better. Matthew Robinson wrote and implored his

sister to accompany her husband to Newcastle. He says, “Books and
thought are the food of melancholy, and lovely places, however beautiful,
the dwellings of it, but a town entirely strange to you, and new company,
would bid fairest to dissipate your thoughts.” He signs himself “Matthew
Robinson Morris,” having adopted the latter, the maiden name of his
mother, as her heir to the Mount Morris and Monk’s Horton estates. Mrs.
Donnellan, writing from Bullstrode on September 24, mentions, “I have
brought down a screen to work in snail for the Duchess, and for my retired
hours, Carte’s[355] History to read, for Sir Paul Davis, who is a chief actor,
was my great-grandfather.”

[355] The Rev. Thomas Carte, born 1686, died 1754. Chaplain to Bishop
Atterbury.

No further letters do I possess till October 23, when Mrs. Montagu
writes to the duchess and states Mr. Montagu had started riding to London
on particular business. He hated wheels, and always preferred riding. Mrs.
Montagu and Sarah had been prevailed on to visit Mrs. Yorke at Richmond
in his absence.
The great Duchess of Marlborough’s death, which had just occurred on
October 18, is commented on thus—

“How are the mighty fallen! Oh vanity of Human things! the Duchess of
Marlborough is now not worth a groat, nor does pride glow any longer in
old Granville’s heart. The old Countess[356] had reckoned with pleasure the
riches Mrs. Spencer[357] was to possess, and no doubt pleased herself with
the hopes of seeing it, little imagining Clotho had twisted their line of life
together.”

[356] The Countess of Granville, died October 27, 1744.
[357] Hon. John Spencer was grandson of the Duchess of Marlborough, married
to the daughter of the Countess of Granville.

A RAREE SHOW

Whilst staying with Mrs. Yorke, Mrs. Montagu writes to the duchess—

“Your Grace may not think we have any publick diversions at
Richmond. I must assure you we went to a fine Raree Show.[358] An orrery
made up some part of it, and gave a dignity to the whole. However it was an
emblem of life, the first scene was all gay figures and dogs and Ducks and
Horses and Coaches, and every object was new and striking: then came
Mademoiselle Catherina with all the airs of a celebrated toast, turned her
head about with a measured grace, smiled, curtseyed, and flirted her fan:
when everyone had enough of that, we went to study the world. We
observed its motion, saw the revolution of a few years, and while we rather
admired than understood its movements, were almost weary and yet loath to
retire, there was presented the figure of Time mowing us all down, and so
we made our Exit.”

[358] A show enclosed in a box.

Mrs. Montagu and Sarah set out on their journey to London, and a letter
to the duchess from Northampton, November 17, shows the state of the
roads then—

“I am here in a whole skin, thanks to the care of our coachman, and the
stuffing of our coach seats, but never was poor mortal so jumbled, jolted
and dragged through such roads. I never saw such roads in my life as
between Harborough and this place. We were obliged to come a nameless
pace that is slower than a walk. Mr. Montagu is to meet us to-morrow, he
expected our being at Newport to-night, but we did not get to Northampton
till after three o’clock in the afternoon, though we got into the coach at
seven in the morning.”

In a letter of November 23 the duchess says, “I have read a sermon of
Swift’s upon the Trinity, which I like extremely, and wish you would read it,
and give me your opinion of it.”
At Bullstrode at this time were Lady Wallingford DISEASE IN
and Miss Granville. On the same day Mrs. Robinson

writes from Mount Morris and congratulates her CATTLE
daughters on their safe arrival in Dover Street. She
mentions the cattle plague then beginning; thus—

“Our epidemical distemper is madness, which, thank God, has not yet
reached the human species, but reigns among horses, cows, hoggs, shepp,
and doggs; of the latter we have been one out of pocket, but our new tenant
has lost a cow, and has a ram uncommonly freakish, which they suppose is
going the same way, and J. Smith a hogg or two, and the country people
take so little care of their doggs when they are bitt, as is very injurious to
their neighbours. Ours was a greyhound, which will prevent Mr. Robinson’s
coursing till he recruits his loss with another.”

Poor Mrs. Robinson, only three weeks after this letter, wrote to her
daughters to say she had a swelling in her breast, which had formed some
ten weeks back, and which she had hitherto concealed, and feared was
cancer. She wrote to Dr. Chesilden,[359] the famous surgeon, to tell him, and
he desired her to come to town.

[359] Dr. William Chesilden, born 1688, died 1752.

Mrs. Montagu writes on December 17 to the MRS. ROBINSON’S
duchess in great distress— ILLNESS

“that it was a cancer, but that not sticking to the ribs, it may be taken out
without danger; he (Dr. Chesilden) has behaved to her with great gentleness
and care, and has made her very easy. She bears her misfortune with great
fortitude, she is neither afraid of death or pain, but says she is contented to
suffer what Providence pleases to ordain.... She will not suffer us to be in
the house while the operation is performed. They assure us there is no
danger of her Life, but it is terrible to think of the pain she must undergo.”

The operation was performed successfully, but must have been shocking
to bear, the use of anæsthetics not being then known. The two daughters
nursed their mother, and the affectionate Mrs. Donnellan assisted, though
herself in great trouble at the ill-health of her stepfather, Mr. Perceval. On

CHAPTER VI.
1745 — AT TUNBRIDGE WELLS — LETTERS FROM MR. MONTAGU AND OTHERS ABOUT
THE JACOBITE CAMPAIGN.
1745

The first letter of any interest in 1745 is from Mrs. Robinson to Mrs.
Montagu, dated May 8. In this she alludes to the death of the second Mrs.
Conyers Middleton, née Miss Place, who had died on April 26, in her thirty-
eighth year. It appears the marriage had not been a very happy one. Mrs.
Robinson remarks—

“The Dean of Canterbury hears the Doctor (Middleton) is going to
Ireland with Lord Chesterfield.[361]... I take it for granted, if he goes he is to
be an Irish Bishop. It is very strange that no one can be contented with their
present state, for though the Doctor is neither great nor rich, he has more
than he wants, and can spend his time in such studies as he chuses, and his
vacant hours in the company he has been used to, which I think to one
between 60 and 70, would be no small consideration.”

[361] The 4th Earl of Chesterfield, born 1694, died 1773. He was just made
Viceroy of Ireland.

A letter of July 24 from Mrs. Montagu at DONNINGTON
Sandleford to the Duchess of Portland gives an CASTLE
interesting account of Donnington Castle, near
Newbury—

“One day this week we rode to Chaucer’s Castle,[362] where you will
suppose we made some verses no doubt, and when they showed us
Chaucer’s well, I desired some Helicon, hoping thereby to write you a more
poetical letter, but the place having been, during the last Civil War,
besieged, the Muses were frightened away, and forbade this spring to flow,

so it is entirely choaked up, and where flourished Laurels and Bays, grows
only uncouth thorns and thistles. Where erst the Muses and the Graces
played in the best room of the Castle, now stink a few tame partridges: in
short, the present owner, having none of the divine enthusiasm of poetry,
has turned the Castle to barbarous uses. Above it is a partridge Mew, below
a court is kept for paying fines and fees.”

[362] Donnington belonged to Thomas Chaucer, son of the poet, but likely
enough the father visited his son there.

Mrs. Montagu had been far from well this spring and summer, with
lowness of spirits and nervous fainting attacks. Dr. Mead prescribed riding
as a remedy, and finally advised her to take the waters at Tunbridge Wells.
Mr. Montagu being obliged to go to the North about his own and Mr.
Rogers’ affairs, it was agreed that she should drink the waters whilst he was
absent.
Lady Wallingford, who had been paying them a long visit, set out for
Bath. Mrs. Montagu left Sandleford, August 18, for London, with Mr.
Montagu, and left for Tunbridge Wells on the 20th, Mr. Montagu leaving
for the North on August 29.
Writing from Tunbridge Wells to the Duchess of DR. YOUNG AND
Portland on August 27, Mrs. Montagu says— CIBBER!

“I have great joy in Dr. Young, whom I disturbed in a reverie, and at first
he started, then bowed, then fell back into a surprise, then began a speech,
relapsed into his astonishment two or three times.... I told him your Grace
desired he would write longer letters, to which he cried “Ha!” most
emphatically, and I leave you to interpret what it meant. He has made a
friendship with one person here, whom I believe you would not imagine to
have been made for his bosom friend.... You would not guess that this
associate of the Doctor’s was old Cibber![363] Certainly in their religious,
moral and civil character there is no relation, but in their Dramatic capacity
there is some. But why the Reverend Divine and serious author of the
melancholy ‘Night Thoughts’ should desire to appear as a persona dramatis
here, I cannot imagine. The waters have raised his spirits to a fine pitch, as

your Grace will imagine when I tell you how sublime an answer he made to
a very vulgar question. I asked him how long he staid at the Wells? He said
‘as long as my rival staid!’ I was astonished how one who made no
pretensions to anything could have a rival, so I asked him for an
explanation: he said he would stay as long as the Sun did!”

[363] Colley Cibber, actor and dramatist, born 1671, died 1757.

On August 30, writing to Mr. Montagu, mention is made of Dr. Smith,
his friend, being at Tunbridge Wells. Dr. Robert Smith[364] was Master of
Trinity, Cambridge, a mathematician and professor of astronomy, and had
been tutor to the Duke of Cumberland.

“He sat next me at the Concert last night; why he is so fond of this place,
I cannot tell, for it seems not very agreeable to the nature of a Philosopher.
This is a life of idleness and dissipation. I spend great part of my day at
home, but most people live upon the Publick Walks. I have got up very
early and generally read an hour before I go to the Well. The greatest
pleasure I have here is riding about to see this wild, rude country. Dr. Young
dined with me to-day. Dr. Audley was much pleased with him, and we had a
very chearful meal.”

[364] Dr. Robert Smith, born 1681, died 1768.

Mr. Montagu desired much to see some wheatears, birds that abound in
the Downs still, and are delicious eating.

“I was sorry the Wheatears could not be got, but the Poulterer
disappointed me; however I have now got a couple stuffed, by which you
will see their shape and feathers.
“It is now absolutely said the Duchess of Manchester[365] is to marry Mr.
Hussey.”[366]

[365] Isabella, daughter of the Duke of Montagu, and widow of 2nd Earl of
Manchester.
[366] Mr. Edward Hussey, afterwards Earl of Beaulieu.

Mr. Montagu writes from his brother’s place, Newbold Verdon, where he
stayed en route to the North—

“At Dunstable Hill j met Mr. Stanhope with your friend Dr. Courayer,
and not far from Northampton my Lady Halifax[367] going to London to lye
in, and afterwards my Lord,[368] with whom j had some discourse, and who
was so civil as to say he hoped j intended calling on him at Horton. I said j
would take some other opportunity of paying my respects. We had
yesterday the company of Lord Wentworth[369] and a brother[370] of the
great Mr. Lyttelton, who is a Clergyman, at dinner. The former of whom is a
very pretty kind of man, and the other will be a Bishop.”

[367] Née Anne Dunk, a great heiress.
[368] George Montagu Dunk, 5th Earl of Halifax.
[369] Edward, 9th Baron Wentworth.
[370] Charles Lyttelton, afterwards Bishop of Carlisle.

Arrived at Derby, Mr. Montagu writes, “The town DERBY
is finely situated, and the country good about it, but
the famous engine[371] for silk weaving being out of order, j am afraid we
must go away without seeing it.”

[371] Invented by Mr. John Lombe, one great wheel turning 99,947 smaller
wheels!

On September 5 Mr. Montagu writes from MANCHESTER
Manchester—

“We lay last night at Buxton, which is a mean town, very romantic and
surrounded with barren hills, and this morning, after travelling over about
ten miles of very hilly country, some of which afforded very delightful
prospects, and about 12 miles over a rich, flat country, we came here. This
town is in the general, old, but some good houses have been built, and are
daily building. The Collegiate Church is very handsome. It is very
populous, and contains, as they say, about 70,000 people, and drives a
prodigious trade.
“To-morrow we pursue our journey. We propose to lye at Skipton in
Craven, which if we do, we shall reach Burton in good time the next day.”

Burton was Mr. Buckley’s[372] home.

[372] With whom the three younger Robinson boys had lived.

We must now return to Mrs. Montagu. Tunbridge Wells agreed with her,
her spirits mended, and to the duchess’s inquiries she states—

“I can eat more buttered roll in a morning than a great girl at a boarding
school, and more beef at dinner than a yeoman of the Guards; I sleep well,
and am indeed in perfect health, and the waters have done me much
service.”
DR. YOUNG
With Dr. Young’s company she was delighted, and
she rode with him often. One ride she describes thus—

“I have been in the vapours these two days, on account of Dr. Young’s
leaving us: he was so good as to let me have his company very often, and
we used to ride and walk and take sweet counsel together. A few days
before he went away, he carried Mrs. Rolt[373] and myself to Tunbridge,[374]
five miles from hence, where we were to see some fine ruins.... First rode
the Doctor on a tall steed, decently caparizoned in grey; next ambled Mrs.
Rolt on a hackney horse lean as the famed Rosinante, but in shape much
resembling Sancho’s ass; then followed your humble servant on a milk

white Palfrey, whose reverence for the human kind induced him to be
governed by a creature not half as strong and I fear scarce thrice as wise as
himself. The two figures that brought up the rear, the first was my servant
valiantly armed with two uncharged pistols, whose holsters were covered
with two civil harmless monsters, that signified the valour and courtesy of
our ancestors. The last was the Doctor’s man, whose uncombed hair so
resembled the mane of the horse he rode on, one could not help imagining
they were of him.... On his head was a velvet cap much resembling a black
saucepan, and on his side hung a little basket. Thus did we ride, or rather
jog on to Tunbridge town. To tell you how the dogs barked at us, the
children squalled, and the men and women stared at us, would take too
much time.... At last we arrived at the ‘King’s Head’: the loyalty of the
Doctor induced him to alight.... We took this progress to see the ruins of an
old Castle; but first our Divine would visit the Churchyard, where we read
that folks were born and died, the natural, moral, and physical history of
Mankind. In the Churchyard grazed the Parson’s Steed, whose back was
worn bare with carrying a pillion Seat for the comely, fat personage, this
ecclesiastic’s wife. Though the creature eat daily part of the parish, he was
most miserably lean. Tired of dead and living bones, Mrs. Rolt and I
jumped over a stile into the Parson’s field, and from thence, allured by the
sight of golden Pippins, we made an attempt to break into the holy man’s
orchard. He came most courteously to us and invited us to his apple-trees;
to show our moderation we each of us gathered two mellow codlings....
“The good parson offered to show us the inside of his Church, but made
some apology for his undress, which was a truly canonical dishabille. He
had on a grey striped calamanco night gown, a wig that once was white, but
by the influence of an uncertain climate turned to a pale orange, a brown
hat, encompassed by a black hatband, a band somewhat dirty that decently
retired under his chin, a pair of grey stockings well mended with blue
worsted, strong symbol of the conjugal care and affection of his wife, who
had mended his hose with the very worsted she bought for her own.... When
we had seen the Church, the parson invited us to take some refreshment, but
Dr. Young thought we had before trespassed on the good man’s time, so
desired to be excused, else we should, no doubt, have been welcomed to the
house by Madam in her muslin pinners and sarsenet hood, who would have

given some Mead and a piece of a cake that she made in the Whitsun
holidays for her cousins.”

[373] Mrs. Rolt, a friend of Dr. Conyers Middleton.
[374] Tunbridge and Tunbridge Wells are separate towns.

Mrs. Montagu goes on to say they invited the TONBRIDGE
divine to join them at dinner, which he refused, but CASTLE
appeared afterwards with a large tobacco-horn, with
Queen Anne’s head upon it, peeping from his pocket.

“After dinner we walked to the old Castle,[375] which was built by
Richard de Clare, Earl of Gloucester, in William Rufus’ days. It has been a
most magnificent building, the situation is extremely beautiful: the Castle
made a kind of half moon down to the river, and where the river does not
defend it, it is guarded by a large moat. The towers at the great Gate are
covered with fine venerable ivy. It was late in the evening before we got
home, but the silver Cynthia held up her lamp in the heavens, and cast such
a light on the earth, as showed its beauties in a soft and gentle light. The
night silenced all but our Divine Doctor, who sometimes uttered things fit
to be spoken in a Season when all Nature seems to be hushed and
hearkening. I followed gathering wisdom as I went, till I found by my
horse’s stumbling that I was in a bad road, and that the blind was leading
the blind: so I placed my servant between the Doctor and myself, which he
not perceiving, went on in a most philosophical strain to the great
amazement of my poor clown of a servant, who not being brought up to any
pitch of enthusiasm, nor making answer to any of the fine things he heard,
the Doctor wondering I was dumb, and grieving I was so stupid, looked
round, declared his surprise, and desired the man to trot on before.”

[375] William Rufus gave Tonbridge to Richard FitzGilbert, ancestor of the Earls
of Clare, surnamed “De Benefacta.”

Not till a letter of Mr. Montagu’s of September 17, THE
from Allerthorpe, is a word said of the rising in COMMENCEMENT
OF THE ’45
Scotland. This passage occurs—

“The affair of the Pretender has made a noise beyond what j at first
imagined it would. If it is as formidable as some would have us believe it to
be, j hope by the care and vigilance of those at the helm, it will be soon
crushed. We are hitherto in this country very quiet, and j hope we shall keep
so.”

The next letter of September 22 says—

“I intended being at Newcastle next Tuesday, but what has happened
since has made that impossible, for on Tuesday there is to be a meeting of
the gentlemen at York, at which Mr. Carter and j are to be there.
“The rebels have certainly entered the city of Edinburgh,[376] as j
suppose by the treachery of some there, but as the town of Newcastle has
taken proper precautions and that there are at that town 1700 men, besides
1200 at Durham, and j hope with Cope are computed 3000, and it is said
that the Dutch transports have been seen off the coasts, j hope there is no
doubt this rebellion will be crushed. I hope, however, you will be under as
little concern as possible, for j will run myself into no unnecessary danger,
but behave as j hope you, if you were upon the spot, would approve.”

[376] They entered Edinburgh on September 16.

This letter frightened Mrs. Montagu much. She GEORGE LEWIS
immediately wrote to propose joining Mr. Montagu, SCOTT —
NATIONAL
and despatched a messenger to London to ask advice TERRORS
from a person likely to know about the affair. This
person was Mr. George Lewis Scott,[377] eldest son of George Scott, of
Bristo in Scotland, by Marion Stewart, daughter of Sir James Stewart, Lord
Advocate of Scotland. He was a great friend of George I., and had his
names given to him by the Princess Sophia,[378] who was his godmother. He

was a most able mathematician, which formed a tie between himself and
Mr. Montagu. He was a tall, big man, very sociable and facetious, an
accomplished musician. In 1750 he was Sub-Preceptor to George III., and
in 1756 Commissioner of Excise. I give a portion of his letter in reply; his
handwriting is beautiful—

“Hearing of an express said to arrive last night, I went out in search of
news, but find nothing material since the account of the unhappy battle,[379]
or rather infamous flight, of Saturday last. We have as yet no authentic
detail of the action. The common opinion is, that the King’s forces both
horse and foot behaved scandalously. Inclosed I send you a list of some
officers killed and wounded in this affair. We do not yet know what is
become of the rest, excepting that the greatest part of the Dragoons were
safe at Berwick with Sir John Cope.[380] The Captain Stewart of the Earl of
Loudoun’s Regiment mentioned among the slain was an acquaintance of
Mr. Montagu’s, and a great friend of Mr. Spencer’s. There are two Captains
killed and regretted of Guise’s Regiment, the same corps in which my
brother has a company. By good fortune he was not there, being just
returned from Flanders, and this Day upon the Establishment as engineer,
and ordered to attend Marshal Wade. We may once more call the east wind
a Protestant wind. Had the English and Dutch forces, amounting to 12,000
men, been kept off by contrary winds, God only knows what the
consequences of the loss of this, in itself trifling, skirmish might have been.
As it is the Stocks have fallen considerably. There has been a run upon the
Bank, who have paid silver to gain time, and have been much blamed for so
doing. But on the other hand, just reasons are alledged for their conduct.
They say they had certain knowledge that those who began the run were
disaffected persons, who, if they had been paid in gold, might with much
greater facility have transmitted supplies to Scotland, than when paid in
silver. However this may be, it is certain that some of the most considerable
Bankers and Merchants have agreed to support the Bank on this occasion. I
am still hopeful, notwithstanding all the bad rumours we hear, that the old
English spirit, though confessedly sunk in deep slumbers for many years,
may yet awake. Can anything be more ridiculous and more joyful to the
French, more terrible and more shameful to ourselves, to see a Nation
which might raise 500,000 men, a nation worth twice 500 millions of
property, frightened and disordered by 5000 Highland ruffians not worth

£5000, if they, their wives and children, servants, goods and chattels, were
to be sold in the market? In the days of Oliver six times that number were
near Dunbar dispersed by 10,000 English like chaff before the wind. But
perhaps, as Voltaire says, ‘Les anglois d’aujourd’huy ne resemblent aux
anglois de Cromwell, non plus que les Monsignori de Rome ne resemblent
aux Scipions et aux Catons.’”

[377] George Lewis Scott, born 1708, died 1780.
[378] Daughter of George I., married Frederick William, King of Prussia.
[379] Battle of Preston Pans, fought on September 20.
[380] Commander-in-Chief for Scotland.

The last account we have of the rebels is that GENERAL WADE’S
ARMY

“they are returned to Edinburgh, and it is supposed they will be audacious
enough to call a Parliament of that Nation, and dissolve the Union. This I
think good news, as it will give time for the panic, with which too many are
seized, to dissipate. It will also give the well affected in the Northern
counties time to arm, and for the King’s forces to assemble. Mr. Wade’s
army is to be 10 or 12,000 strong. The Rendezvous it’s said, is to be at
Nottingham. I wish the Duke[381] were sent for to command. He behaved
incomparably well in Flanders, avoided no danger, no fatigue, was an
example of regularity and discipline, and what is more considerable, of
justice in rewarding merit. More troops are said to be ordered over. This is
certainly a right step, but the consequences on the other side of the water, be
what they will.... We have a report that the Castle of Edinburgh must soon
surrender for want of provisions. What an unpardonable neglect! If this
should be so, the consequences would be very bad, as it would furnish the
rebels with considerable quantities of cash, plate, arms, powder, and
artillery. What will happen, I know not, but if I were Governor, I could soon
fetch up provisions from the city by bombs and red-hot balls.”

[381] The Duke of Cumberland, born 1721, died 1768; second son of George II.

Mr. Scott concludes his letter by saying he hopes Mr. Montagu will be in
London for the meeting of Parliament on October 17. He also adds—

“I could wish you further from the Sea-side than Mount Morris, though
Mr. Vernon[382] is the most vigilant of commanders. I have been assured
that as soon as the news of his being appointed was known in France, the
price of insurance was raised.”

[382] Admiral Vernon, born 1684, died 1757.

He concludes with messages to Sarah Robinson, who was with her
sister, and who was destined to become his wife.

Emery Walker Ph. Sc.

Lady Lechmere née Howard

The next letter from Mr. Montagu from COUNTY MEETING
Allerthorpe, dated September 27, is thus— —
CONDUCT OF THE
NORTHERN
“My Dearest, GENTRY

“Since my last letter to you by Sunday’s Post, we had our meeting
at York on Tuesday the 24th, where there was the greatest Meeting of
peoples of all Ranks and degrees that j believe was ever known upon any

occasion. Of the nobility there was present the Lord Carlisle,[383] the Lord
Malton,[384] Lord Lonsdale,[385] Lord Falconbridge,[386] Lord Fitzwilliam,
[387]
and perhaps some others who may have escaped my notice, together
with Sir Conyers D’Arcy,[388] Mr. Turner, Member for the County, Mr. Fox
and Mr. Wentworth, members for the City of York, and all the gentlemen of
the County, together with the clergy. There was the utmost unanimity and
spirit imaginable, and after a meeting at the Castle, where the Archbishop
made a handsome speech on the occasion, an association was entered into
with an address to the King, and subscription made of near £20,000, and
which when the whole of the collection shall be made, will j believe amount
to much more. With this money there are to be raised several Companys of
foot, consisting of 50 men each, and they will be officered by gentlemen
who will serve without any pay, among whom is my friend, Sir R. Graham,
but it will be some time before these companys can be raised, and made
usefull, which would not have been otherwise, if the Militia had been kept
up and exercised as the law directs instead of being ridiculed and rendered
contemptible these last fifty years for purposes j need not tell you. I wish
this misfortune would for the future learn us more prudence, and make us
settle the Militia which is the only constitutional force, and agreeable to our
liberty, upon a better footing than it has of late been, but j know too much
of mankind ever to hope to see it in this country. This rebellion has made a
most rapid and surprising progress. Edinburgh was taken before it was
believed there was almost any such thing. The disbelief, however, of the
people was no excuse for the M(inistr)y, whose measures have been the
cause of it, for not crushing it at the beginning. The conduct of our General
Cope is much censured for suffering himself to be surprised by the enemy,
who in a short time overcame, and j wish Wentworth who is sent may have
better success than he had at Carthagena. Mr. Ridley, the Mayor of
Newcastle, has taken all proper precautions to secure the town, and if we
are rightly informed, has, with the promise of £10,000, gained all the Keel
men, who are computed at 15,000 men. The county of Durham has raised
the Militia and General Oglethorpe[389] is at York raising a regiment of
gentlemen volunteers. About 15,000 Dutch are j believe got to Berwick, and
j hope we shall soon have the regiments amounting to upwards of 6000,
which are lately landed in the Thames from Holland, by means of all which

force j flatter myself a speedy end will be put to this unhappy affair, and
peace restored to our Island....
“I desire you will not let yourself be concerned more than you ought at
these unhappy times, nor imagine us here in greater danger than we really
are, for if the enemy should be for coming this length, we should have
notice enough of it, and as we are at present unprovided with force, must
take to flight to save ourselves. I am in very good health and spirits, and run
no hazards but what others as deserving and better than j do run, and hope
your good sense and greatness of mind will preserve you from being more
concerned than other people are, or you ought to be. I desire you will add to
all the other testimonys of your love and affection to me, what j now ask,
which at all events will make me easy. I will take all opportunities of
writing to you, and am, with my compliments to dear Miss Salley,
“My dearest Angel,
“Your most affectionate Husband,
“Edw. Montagu.
“P.S.—I subscribed a £100.”

[383] 7th Earl of Carlisle.
[384] 6th Baron of Malton.
[385] 3rd Viscount Lonsdale.
[386] Should be Viscount Fauconberg.
[387] 1st Earl Fitzwilliam.
[388] Afterwards 6th Earl of Holdernesse.
[389] James Edward Oglethorpe, born 1698, died 1785; 1733 founded Georgia,
which he named after George II.

The next letter from Mr. Montagu is written from GENERAL COPE’S
Allerthorpe, on September 29, after having received DEFEAT

his wife’s earnest appeal to be allowed to join him.
This sentence shows his affection for her—

“You have ever been my Pride, j have loved and honoured you with the
tenderest affection, and will continue to do so as long as j live, but j now

adore you for the greatness of mind, joyned with the utmost regard shewn
to me in a letter which might have well become a Roman Lady. The
happiest days that j ever past in my life, have been with you, and j hope
Heaven, after these storms shall be blown over, will grant me the long
enjoyment of your charming society, which I prefer above everything upon
Earth....
“I cannot consent to the danger you might run by coming to me,
however glad j might be to have you with me, but must desire you and
conjure you without any further difficulty or hesitation to go to your
Father’s in Kent, where you will be amongst those who best love you, and
are most capable to defend you, till j can come to you there myself....
“The defeat of Cope is a very great misfortune. Everybody censures the
conduct of the General, as well as the behaviour of the soldiers. We have
since the battle heard no more but that the Rebels are encamped at Preston
Pans, near where the battle was fought.”
SUSSEX
On September 30, from London, George Lewis PRIVATEERS
Scott writes to Mrs. Montagu, still at Tunbridge Wells
—

“Since my last I have seen two Officers, who were in the engagement of
Saturday sen’night, and I have had a pretty distinct account of our
dispositions, so that I could send you a plan of that affair.... It seems agreed
both by these officers and by the General’s letter that our men were seized
with a panic at the rapid motion of the Highlanders, so that their officers
attempted to rally them in vain. The military Chest and all the baggage was
taken, what the loss of men is cannot yet be known. I find Captain Stewart
is not killed, but only taken Prisoner. Our civil panic here begins to subside
a little. General Wade’s[390] Army will probably be near Doncaster by this
day sen’night, so that we hope Yorkshire will be protected.... We are in no
apprehensions for Berwick or Newcastle: nor is the Castle of Edinburgh in
danger for want of provisions. Besides the ordinary Stores, the Governor
swept all the Markets in town, the day the Rebels left it to meet General
Cope. The Provost, I hear, is in the Castle, so that I hope he will be able to
wipe off the aspersions so liberally thrown upon him. There is no certain
news of the further motions or schemes of the Rebels. To-day I was told

they intended to march for Northumberland, and expected to be there
increased 10,000 men besides £100,000 in money. I give no great credit to
my author’s intelligence, he is of a suspected family and speaks as he
wishes. This is all I have been able to pick up for you, and I hope your fears
begin to subside a little. But if I endeavour to diminish them for the North I
shall now on the contrary try to increase them on the South. I mean as to
your going to Mount Morris. I saw a Sussex gentleman yesterday, who tells
me they are frequently alarmed by Privateers on their coast, and what
should hinder a few desperadoes from landing in the night and doing as
they pleased on the coast.... I own it would give me a vast satisfaction to see
you and Miss Robinson in Dover Street again.”

[390] Field-Marshal George Wade, died 1748, ætat 75.

On October 1 Mr. Montagu writes from Allerthorpe—

“My dearest Love,
“Since my last to you, we have heard nothing of the advancing of
the Rebels, who, we have advice, are not above 5000, and most of them
very shabby fellows. A Spy has been taken at Newcastle, said to belong to
the Duke of Perth,[391] on whom was found a letter concealed in his glove.
The contents are not yet made publick, no more than those of the letters
found also on another person at the same place. The former has cut his
throat, but is not dead. We are very quiet in these parts. The Captains are
raising their men, and General Oglethorpe is getting together a flying
Squadron of Volunteers, amongst whom are Mr. Tanfield of Calthorpe, and
Dr. Chambers of Ripon. Captain Twycross is Lieutenant to Sir Reginald.
“I hear the Dukes of Bedford and Devonshire and others are set out for
their respective counties to raise men to assist in suppressing this rebellion.”

[391] 3rd titular Duke of Perth, born 1720, died 1746.

He ends by entreating her to go at once to Horton, as Mount Morris was
more generally called in the family, and that till the country was safe, she
would not blame his staying north as long as he could be of any service.
This letter hastened Mrs. Montagu’s and Sarah’s TUNBRIDGE WARE
departure from Tunbridge Wells. Writing to the
Duchess of Portland on the eve of starting, she asks her if she has

“received a fan with Dr. Young’s picture in his riding accoutrements. I have
taken the liberty to send you some Tunbridge ware, which in your
magnificence you will despise, but I desire it may be sent to your Dairy, and
there humbler thoughts will possess you, and churns of butter, prints, and
skimming dishes will appear of consequence. I have sent you baskets for
your goodyship to put your eggs in, also for feeding your poultry.”
SIR JOHN COPE
On October 5 George Lewis Scott wrote to Mrs.
Montagu, then at Mount Morris, a long letter, a portion of which I copy. His
handwriting, though small, was clear and exceedingly elegant. He chaffs
her and Miss Robinson at taking refuge near the sea, and says, “If I were
Captain of a Privateer, and had 50 stout fellows to second me, I would carry
you and your whole family off in spite of the unconquered county of
Kent.”... After this he suggests

“a vidette, a Sentinel on Horseback at a proper distance from the house,
who may gallop home and give you timely allarm, your horses should be
ready saddled.... The Army under Marshal Wade is not to rendezvous at
Worcester till the 12th instant. If the Highlanders have begun their march as
it is supposed, and that their Chiefs get their men to cross the borders, (no
easy task, because of the prevailing tradition among them that none ever get
back again), they may be in Yorkshire as soon as our Army. I am sorry that
county is not better prepared, but alas! it is not easy to be prepared in a
country rendered so artificially unwarlike as England. What signify all the
speeches of the Orators, or rather of our ignorant, perhaps knavish babblers
in Parliament against the Army? What has been the consequence of their
insisting so often, contrary to common experience and common sense, that
our Navy was a sufficient security. They only misled honest gentlemen.
Their frothy words will not restore tranquillity, and public credit, nor repel

the Highlanders. The Roman orators were also warriors, even Cicero was, I
believe, a better General than most of ours, who have not forgot the Art of
War, as Miss Robinson suggests: they never learnt it.
“À propos of Generals, the following lines were made and repeated by a
lady while asleep; her husband set them down, and astonished her with
them in the morning; she remembered nothing of the matter:—

“‘Say what reward shall be decreed
For deeds like those of Sir John Cope?
Reason and rhyme have both agreed
His ribbon should be made a rope.’

“You say, Madam, you have wasted, not spent your time at Tunbridge.
Your health restored, and your reflections show me the contrary....”

Mr. Montagu now proposed returning from the North, thinking matters
were on a better footing, and intended fetching his wife from Mount Morris,
but Parliament being summoned, was forced to remain in Dover Street.
Mrs. Montagu proposed joining him from Kent on October 27. In a letter to
him on the 25th, she states, “The smugglers here are all patriots it seems,
which is very fortunate, for they assemble in formidable numbers.”
Mrs. Robinson being threatened with a renewal of cancer in her breast,
was persuaded to accompany Mrs. Montagu to London for advice. In a
letter to the Duchess of Portland at this period Mrs. Montagu states—

“The learned faculty have given us better hopes of my Mother’s case
than I could have expected. They say it is not yet cancerous, and that it may
be many years before it hurts her. Your Grace was excessively good in
sending me the receipts which I have sent her, and also the Walnut
medicine.”

The “Walnut medicine,” from; a letter of the duchess, appears to have
been made of the lining of the nuts.
In a letter to Sarah of November 8 Mrs. Montagu MR. SCOTT’S
jokes about Mr. Scott being in love with Sarah, but APPETITE

his appetite being little diminished by it, as he had

just eaten most of a chine of mutton and two large apple dumplings. He
seems from other letters to have possessed a large appetite! She then adds—

“I think it is time to tell you all the news I have heard about the Rebels,
God knows it is not very good: 5000 Irish Brigadiers from Dunkirk are
embarked in order to land in Scotland to assist the Rebels. Ligonier[392] is
sent for, Marshal Wade, who thinks he has forces enow, and the Dukes of
Bedford,[393] Richmond,[394] Rutland,[395] and some others march in person
to him immediately.... The Pretender is at Kelso on the borders of England.
The Dutch troops are not to be depended upon, and ours are very drunken
and licentious. The Parliament has not done anything remarkable for some
days. On Thursday they had the Pretender’s declarations read, and after a
Conference with the Lords ordered the Declaration to be burnt by the hands
of the common Hangman.”

[392] John, Earl of Ligonier, born 1678, died 1770. Field-Marshal, distinguished
in Marlborough’s campaigns.
[393] 4th Duke, born 1710, died 1771.
[394] 7th Duke, born 1701, died 1750.
[395] 3rd Duke, born 1696, died 1779.

Amongst Mr. Montagu’s papers endorsed by him MR. STANLEY’S
“a letter of Mr. Stanley’s to the Duke of M,” meaning LETTER —
TO THE DUKE OF
John,[396] 2nd Duke of Montagu, his relation, is the MONTAGU
following:—

“Boughton,[397] November 17, 1745.

“My Lord,
“I received your Grace’s commands by express yesterday morning
by six o’clock. I immediately wrote a letter to old Mr. Squire and his son,
and expected an answer last night, but to my surprise John Goodwin came
in without one, they being both in Huntingdonshire, and I expect every
minute an answer which was promised by Mr. Squire. Mr. George Robinson
I waited upon, and he expressed great satisfaction at your Grace’s kind

favour of being made Captain Lieutenant in your Grace’s own troop of
Horse, and returns your Grace his most dutiful thanks for the same. Your
Grace is pleased to mention that the new rais’d Regiment will soon march
northwards, at which both regiments have expressed much uneasiness: the
men say they had no need to leave their houses and families to go for
soldiery, that they and their forefathers have lived quietly and happily under
your Grace and your forefathers as tenants for hundreds of years, that they
would never have engaged to the Wars with anybody but your Grace, when
they listed it was only to go along with your Grace to fight for you, and that
they would go with nobody else. The Northamptonshire men are in the
same story, they say if they had wanted to quit their professions to be
soldiers they might have had five pounds a man to list in the Guards, or four
pounds a man to list in a marching regiment, but they chose to list with your
Grace for nothing, out of regard for you, and to go with you and fight for
you, and nobody else. I believe one reason which made the people more
uneasy is, that at the time they were raising, it was maliciously insinuated
amongst them that your Grace’s name was only made use of to get them to
list, and that they would be draughted and turned over to other Colonels,
which made many backward in listing, and many of them are still
apprehensive of being serv’d so, and declare if they are, they will sooner
venture being shot for deserters than serve, and it has cost us much pains
and many good words and a great deal of coaxing to bring them into
temper; and we have told them that in fighting in defence of their King and
country, wherever your Grace shall order them is the true way of serving
your Grace, and that they may be assured they will not be draughted and
turned over to other Colonels, and they seem now to be pretty easy for the
present, and I believe, will march chearfully and willingly enough, when
and wherever your Grace shall please to order them. Give me leave, my
dear Lord Duke, once more to offer myself and fifty men, quite volunteers,
to bear our own expenses, to wait on your Grace, if you must expose your
person to danger, wherever you shall please to command us, and cloath
ourselves in what manner you like best, and shall think ourselves happy in
hazarding our lives for the preservation of yours, who are so dear a Father
to your Country.
“It being half an hour after 11 o’clock, I dare not stay any longer for Mr.
Squire’s answer. I dare venture to say young Mr. Squire would be very glad
to accept the Favour of your Grace’s convey of Horse. I have heard him say

to that effect. I take the freedom to inclose a letter or two in this packet, and
am,
“My Lord,
“Your Grace’s most humble,
and Dutiful Servant to command,
“D. Stanley.”

[396] John Montagu, 2nd Duke, born 1689, died 1749.
[397] Boughton, the duke’s property near Kettering in Northamptonshire.

The Duke of Montagu[398] raised three regiments, two of foot and one of
horse. The command of one regiment he gave to his relation John, 4th Earl
of Sandwich.

[398] The duke was Master of the Wardrobe, and Grandmaster of the Order of the
Bath.

A letter of Mrs. Montagu’s to the Duchess of SIR FRANCIS
Portland, dated November 19, says— DASHWOOD

CATTLE MURRAIN
“Carlisle is surrendered to the rebels, who, I hear,
behave civilly, and not as conquerors.... Ligonier is still ill; the Dukes of
Richmond and Bedford are set out. Lord Sandwich is aide-de-camp to the
Duke of Richmond. I pity poor Lady Sandwich, she endeavours to bear up,
but certainly she is in an uneasy situation; I saw her on Sunday, and she is
to dine here to-morrow.... I suppose you know Sir Francis Dashwood is
upon the brink of matrimony. I see him sometimes with his intended bride,
Lady Ellis; he is really very good company.”

This was the celebrated Sir Francis Dashwood,[399] afterwards Lord Le
Despencer, the leader of the infamous Hell Fire Club of the sham
Franciscan monks at Medmenham Abbey. Mention is made in this letter of
the murrain amongst the cattle, which raged to such a degree that people

forbore to eat beef or veal, or drink milk. A passage in a letter of November
26 to the Rev. W. Freind, who was then at Bath, reads—

“The Duke of Cumberland set out yesterday, as did the Duke of Bedford
and Lord Sandwich: the Duke of Montagu gave his Lordship one of his
regiments. Almost all of our nobility are gone to the Army, so that many of
the great families are in tears. Let it be said for the honour of our sex, there
are no drums, no operas, and plays are unfrequented.”

[399] He married Lady Ellis, December 19, 1745.

Sarah Robinson, writing from Mount Morris, states that they were in
great fear of an invasion of the French. It filled her with unspeakable terror,
as well as the servants; but she says—

“My Father, you are to understand, is not at all concerned, he is not at all
afraid of an invasion, nor don’t think there is the least probability of it, but
for all that he has ordered everything to be packed up that can be packed.”
She adds, “I don’t know that the French will invade us, but I am sure
crossness has, and my Father is just miserably out of sorts, so it’s a pity but
he should stay in the house, he would presently scold the French away.”
INVASION
The Montagus had now left London for EXPECTED —
Sandleford, and Mr. George L. Scott writes the THE LAW
following letter to Mr. Montagu:— REGIMENT

“London, December 12, 1745.

“Dear Sir,
“I did not expect so sudden an occasion of writing to you. You
need not, however, expect very important news, it being only to inform you
that henceforward you may shine in the dignity of F.R.S., you were elected
this evening, and may be admitted when you return to town. We had a very
hot alarm this morning, of a descent of the French in Sussex. It was
grounded upon a letter of a gentleman of distinction in your county; the

Secretary of the Customs roused Mr. Pelham with the news at three, but a
more certain and contradictory account came by eight, with us the report
subsisted till two, and then vanished. Thus far, they say, may be depended
on, that Dunkirk Harbour is filled with Ships. If the French can get a
footing in Kent, it will be their fault if they do not do us inconceivable
damages by destroying our docks, and raising heavy contributions. Were it
not for some individuals, and innocent persons who would suffer on such an
occasion, I should not grieve in the least to see some others pay the penalty
of their infatuation or dastardly spirit. I only wish the King’s forces might
be strong enough to take the booty from the French, and divide it among
themselves; this would be no loss to the nation, and only transfer property
from the fools or cowards to the brave. I say the same of the Northern
counties, through which the Rebels have passed. They have behaved
infamously. Sullivan, who was in Corsica with Marshal Maillebois,[400] has
now felt the difference between modern Englishmen and Corsicans, much
to the honour of the latter. These poor people, undisciplined and unarmed,
almost with any thing but the spirit of liberty, baffled two veteran armies.
Here a country more extensive than Corsica, better peopled, richer, and
either well armed, or such as might have been so if they pleased, and with-
all well furnished with plenty of horses, has tamely suffered itself to be
overrun by a pack of foot banditti, two-thirds of which, by the best
accounts, are scarce men, pudet hæc opprobria!
“Our accounts from Scotland are but melancholy. The Rebels lay what
contributions they please. Some Clans, they say, have taken arms, not with
any intention to assist either side, but only to plunder. It is now at last
agreed upon to bring over the Hessians. What a shame that we should want
them! and what a shame that since any man might see we did want them,
they were not brought over sooner. I say the same of the remainder of our
country. Our administration puts me in mind of the rustic mentioned by
Demosthenes, who coming into a fencing school, never foresaw a blow, but
as soon as he was pushed, he would then clap his hand to the place, and so
shift it after another blow, being thus always too late.
“Our law regiment received his Majesty’s thanks much about the time
you left this on Tuesday, with an intimation that the rebels being retired, he
was unwilling to put us to any further trouble or expense. The frustrating
this scheme is placed to the account of the mean jealousy of a certain great

man. His family, I hear, on the other hand complain that he should be
reproached on this head, when he was totally ignorant of the whole affair,
and his being at all mentioned in it, was entirely owing to the indiscretion
and impertinent zeal of some silly young fellows, who might fancy to
obtain his favour by their conduct on this occasion, but what he totally
disapproves of. What the truth of the matter is I know not, but I have my
own suspicions, which possibly I may find an opportunity to verify. If they
prove true, all I can say is I would not have some men’s souls for their
estates.
“My best respects to Mrs. Montagu. I hope she finds the country answer
her expectations, as to health and every other respect.
“I am, dear Sir,
“Your most obedient, humble servant,
“Geo. L. Scott.
“10 o’clock—
“The rebels set out from Manchester Northward, Tuesday last. They
have murdered and plundered many. The Duke is in pursuit.
“The Provost of Edʳ is to be sent to the Tower.”

[400] Jean Des Marets Maillebois, born 1682, died 1762. French Marshal,
conquered Corsica in 1739.

In a letter of Mrs. Montagu’s to the Duchess of COUNT ST.
Portland at this period, she says— GERMAIN

“Count St. Germain[401] was seized some days ago; it is said he had
many jewels to a great value, and letters were found directing him how to
manage the Papists in case the Pretender should approach and in what
manner they were to use it. Sir R. Brown[402] offered to bail St. Germain. A
transport Ship that was bringing officers over to the Rebels is taken. The old
Pretender had sent his abdication of his crown, and orders to Charles to
publish the manifestoes in his own name. The Lawyers offered to form
themselves into a regiment to guard the Royal family, but Lord Chief

Justice Willes’[403] friends insisted on his being Colonel, which has
discouraged the affair.”

[401] Comte De Saint Germain, born 1707, died 1778. French General.
[402] Probably Lieut.-General George Brown.
[403] John Willes, born 1685, died 1761.

Meanwhile the fears of a French invasion ROMNEY MARSH
increased in the southern counties, as will be seen by
this letter of Mrs. Robinson’s to Mrs. Montagu—
“December 15, 1745.

“My Dear,
“Before you receive this you will have heard from Sally that she
this day sett forward for Cantʸ, in order to proceed for London to-morrow
morning: indeed the frequent alarms we have had for this last week has
been too much for her spirits, and I pressed her to go, for she was not able
to make herself easy in staying, and yet, poor girl, she went with great
heaviness, though she had a mind to it, and Mr. Robinson, though he
thought the fright more than necessary, was very easy with it. Yesterday he
had a certain account from Dover that Admiral Vernon sent yᵐ an express
last Tuesday, yt he had reason to believe yt ye French design’d landing a
great force (it was said 200,000, though yt, I think, must be a mistake) at
Dover, or on the Kentish coast, and ordered them to keep themselves in
readiness to oppose them: 400 men keep watch at nights, and ye inhabitants
keep all their best effects packed up to send away at ye first approach of
danger. These things much magnified, and told in many different shapes,
are sufficient to alarm most people that live where we do, for should any
army land on ye coast of Kent, I am told Romney[404] is the most
convenient place, as there is a fine flat to land on, and no opposition can be
made, as we are destitute of forces, and the people entirely unarmed and
frightened out of their wits: we are in the worst situation of any gentleman’s
house in the county in such a case, for they must pass within two or three
fields[405] of ye house, if not through the yard, and you know we stand very

visible, yt in such case, which God forbid, we must be great sufferers, they
wou’d certainly spoil what they cou’d not carry away, and probably set fire
to the house. But as to our selves, I don’t doubt but we are as safe as the rest
of the Nation, for we have given orders for an express to come away if any
landing appears in ye Marsh, and should set out in an hour’s time, whereas
an army would be some days in landing. Nor am I in any fright, no do I
believe they dare attempt any such thing, but that ye transports that lay
manᵉᵈ at Dunkirk are designed to land some forces in Scotland, of wcʰ two
was taken, and broᵗ into Deal yesterday, bound for Montrose, and I think
Suffolk would be a better place yⁿ ye Kentish coast, and less guarded: but I
will tell you what I have done by way of precaution. I have packed up all ye
lining, plate and Clothes yt cou’d be spared from constant use, and all
writings, and they are ready loaded in the waggon, and secured tennants’
horses to carry them off. As to furniture, it may take its fate, as I cou’d
neither put it up properly, nor get carriages to carry it off on ye sudden, and
it wou’d be great expence, and great damage to do it to no purpose. Pray
don’t be in any fright for us, for you may be sure we shall take care of
ourselves so far as not to be caught, and that is all anybody can do. I shall
be greatly concern’d shou’d such a thing happen, for our own misfortune
and those of everybody’s else, for ye whole nation must be sufferers, though
some may feel it in a more particular manner than others, as they wou’d be
more in ye way of these people. I am much at ease yt Sally is gone, as a
sudden alarm might have affected her so as to have highten’d my fright, wʰ
wou’d have been more for her than for myself. There is orders come to ye
Deputy Lieutenants to raise ye Militia, we hear yt the Dutch Ships with
Admiral Vernon sail’d this afternoon northwards, by which we hope ye
fears of this part grow less, or he wou’d not lessen his forces.
“I think the wind will never be fair for poor Robert.[406] Sure they are
not still off Galway....
“Mr. Robinson joins with me in our best compliments to Mr. Montagu,
and love to yourself,
“I am, my dear,
“Yours most affectionately,
“E. R.

“P.S.—I was surprised you prevailed with yourself to leave London, as it
is thought the safest place.”

[404] Romney Marsh, close by Mount Morris.
[405] By the ancient road called Stone Street.
[406] Her two sons, Robert and Charles, returning from the East Indies.

Sarah Robinson had taken refuge with her friend, Mrs. Cotes, in Charles
Street. In a letter to the duchess of December 16, Mrs. Montagu says, “I
hear the Rebels made great havoc at Levens, which has greatly established
the Countess’ loyalty to the Hanover succession.”
Levens Hall, in Westmorland, was the beautiful LEVENS HALL
seat of the 4th Earl of Berkshire, brought him by his
wife, Catherine Grahame. They were the parents of William Lord Andover,
whose wife was the intimate friend of Mrs. Botham.
A passage in a letter to the Rev. William Freind A FOOTMAN
concerning a footman indicates the manners and
wages of that time. Mrs. Montagu says—

“Pray is the young man who you once proposed to me for a servant at
liberty now? For my footman thinks my wages not equal to his parts and
merits. The servant I part with, is very honest, but I cannot bring him to
deliver his sincerity in such delicate terms as are necessary in a message.
He told a lady of quality who inquired after my health, that I was pure stout,
and if I am in good spirits he tells people I am brave, that he is likely to
establish me as a character of violence.... If your youth can carry a message,
keep himself sober and clean, and stay at home, when he is not sent abroad,
they are all the qualifications I desire. He is to have livery, and frock every
year, and six pounds wages the first year, the second seven. He is to put out
his washing.”

Greater threatenings than ever of an invasion arose at the end of
December. Mr. and Mrs. Montagu implored her parents to take refuge in
their house in Dover Street. Mrs. Robinson, on December 25, says—