George Selwyn: His Letters and His Life Part 29

C(ampbell) seems to-day not determined to stay so long at Cliveden as he thought to do. I shall wish them to return, be it only that I may have the more to say to you, and the better security for my letters being well accepted.

I hope that George was amused at the York races. I have seen this morning in Lizy's letter that he was there. Vixen is sitting for his picture, and this is all the news of Isleworth. I may have more to tell Lord C(arlisle) when I write to him, which I shall do by the next post. My love to them all, you know whom I mean.

What does Lord C. mean by calling himself alone? Peut-on etre mieux qu'au sein de sa famille? That was part of an ariette which M. de la Fayette's music played the day the K(ing) went to the Hotel de Ville, as I have been informed by a pamphlet, wrote to abuse Mr.

Neckar, and which is incomparably well wrote. I will get it for George if he desires it, and will promise to read it. I am afraid that he is too much of (a) Democrate, but as a lover of justice, and of mankind, and of order and good government, he would not be so long, s'il vouloit se rendre a mes raisons; mais il croit que je n'en ai pas, et que je me retranche a dire des invectives, sans avoir des argumens pour soutenir mon systeme; en cela il se trompe.

G.o.d bless him; je l'aime de tout mon coeur, et je l'estime aussi, qui est encore davantage.

(297) Thomas Townshend.

(1790,) Sept. 4, Sat.u.r.day m(orning), Richmond.--. . . My larder is rich from Mr. C(ampbell's) cha.s.se. I had some game the day after the first hostilities against the partridges commenced. . . . Our foreign connections here increase; le Comte de Suffren and his family are going to establish themselves here in a house above the Bridge, and on the banks of the River. He came to the Duke's(298) yesterday, where we dined, and stayed with us the whole evening. He is an aristocrate, and a great sufferer by the troubles in France, but he is a very sober, moderate man, and intelligent. The Duke liked his company very much.

I am loaded now with pamphlets upon this great and extraordinary event; some entertain me, some not. I like much what I have just been reading, which is the opinion of the Abbe Maury,(299) delivered in the National a.s.sembly, upon the executif and legislatif power, in regard to declaring war, and concluding treaties of commerce and alliance. There is a great deal of good sense in it, and comes the nearest to my own opinion of what has pa.s.sed. I suppose that Lord C.

has read it. I hope that George will read it too. If I was sure that the speech was not at Castle H. I would transcribe some pa.s.sages out of it, a sa consideration.

I desire very much to be of his mind about everything, but, if he is a Republican, I have done with him. If he will in his Republican system throw in a little royal authority as ballast, we shall soon come to an agreement. I wish him to come neuf to all those great and important questions, and examine them sans l'esprit de systeme, without prejudice and strong inclination to be of either side, but to investigate the truth, and adopt it. Il est fait pour raisonner; il commence etre d'un age ou le jugement acquerera tous les jours de la maturite. My love to him, I beg.

I think Lady Derby mends in appearance; the Duke and I go often to her. I would cross the water and make the d.u.c.h.ess a visit, but that I think it right to forbear going in a carriage as long as I can; and then, perhaps, I may go with safety to London, from time to time to see Caroline, when she removes thither. . . .

(298) Queensberry.

(299) Jean Siffren Maury, abbe, the eloquent supporter of the monarchical cause.

(1790,) September 7, Tuesday, 8 o'clock, Richmond.--. . . . I was surprised in the evening with a visit from Mr. Campbell. We were au dessert, that is, the party which dined here after they returned from Egham. . . . His visit put out of my head, in a minute, all the pretty French phrases which I was brewing. . . . Mr. C. stayed to converse with the Welch heiress, to talk with Me de Choiseul upon Greece and the Archipele, and of his uncle's voyage pittoresque, and he spoke a great while in Italian with Me la Comtesse de Suffren. I long to hear, as I shall this morning, his opinion of the party. I asked them (a) few questions about their day's sport; it was a novelty with which I know that they would be pleased.

So Me de Choiseul has obtained leave of her husband, I believe without much difficulty, to stay here one day more. I shall, for my part, make no efforts to detain them. Me de R. has explained to me sufficiently en quoi consiste la mauvaise conduite du Marquis. But young people ne regardent que le surface. The Duke did not return; I believe that he dined and lay at Oatlands. His horse had a violent fall; but I heard of no other event. I suppose he may have lost by that accident.

I know as yet no more of Mr. C(ampbell's) motions than that he and Lady C. go to town this morning, but return to dinner. We shall dine with them, when these Races are over; they finish to-morrow.

I sat yesterday morning a great while with the Fish's friend, Me de Roncherolles. Entre nous, I like her much more than any of the whole set. She has neither du brillant dans son esprit, ni une infinite de grace dans ses manieres, je l'avoue, mais, elle est sans pretensions, et avec beaucoup de bon sens, meme de la solidite, et elle est instruite suffisamment. Mr. Walpole ne lui donne pas la preference. He must have something de l'esprit de l'Academie, &c., something of a charactere marque. Je ne cherche rien de tout cela; je suis content du naturel, et de trouver une personne raisonnable, honnete, et de bonne conversation. She is going to-day for a week or more to Lady Spencer's at St. Alban's. I am sure that it is not there, que je trouverois cette simplicite qui me plait. But this, till it is time to embark for Isleworth, when I shall have something more interesting to talk of than the perfections of Me de Roncherolles. . . .

(1790, Nov.?) Thursday, Richmond.--You are so good, when you do not see me or hear of me, to be desirous of having some information of my state of health and existence. Now I must let you know that I have at this moment every distress, negative and positive, that I can have, et les voici. My negative one is, being for the moment in an impossibility of going to town to see you, Caroline, and the bambino, and that is enough, for it would be a great pleasure to me, as you must imagine. Then, I am, in a manner, here with one single servant. Pierre has left this house to go to his own, where he is very well looked after by his wife, and is (as) comfortably lodged as it is possible to be; but he is, as Mr. Dundas tells me, in a very perilous situation, and yet, by excessive care, may recover.

He has been my doctor lately instead of his own, and given me, daily, powders which he said were the bark, and which I was to take.

No such thing; they were powders of a different sort, which, it is fortunate, have done me no mischief. They were in the drawer, and so brought to me as bark. Dundas thought I neglected myself, and rejected the prescription. I maintained that I had missed taking the bark but one day. He knew the contrary from his shop book, and to-day only the mystery was cleared up.

My next grievance is, that je peris de froid; j'en mis penetre au pied de la lettre, and the reason is plain, but why I did not discover it myself is hardly to be conceived. I have no clothes; my stockings are of a fine thin thread, half of them full of holes; I have no flannel waistcoat, which everybody else wears; in short, I have been s.h.i.+vering in the warmest room sans scavoir pourquoi. But yesterday there was a committee at the Duke's upon my drapery, and to-day a tailor is sent for. I am to be flannelled and cottoned, and kept alive if possible; but if that cannot be done, I must be embalmed, with my face, mummy like, only bare, to converse through my cerements. Then, my other footman, the Bruiser, is that, and all things bad besides; he is not an hour in the day at home, and is gaming at alehouses till 12 at night; so the moment that I can get any servant that is tolerable to supply his place I shall send him out of the house, sans autre forme de proces; but, till he is gone, my whole family lives in terror of him.

It is amazing to what a degree I am become helpless; nothing can account for it but extreme dotage, or extreme infancy. I wish Barthow had left Lady Caroline, and was here only to dress me in warmer clothes, but she goes from here, I hear, to Lady Ailesford, so that I must not think of lying in and being nursed for some time.

(1790,) Dec. 8, Wednesday, Richmond.--You have bean at C(astle) H(oward) ever since Monday sevennight, and not one single word have you received from your humble slave and beadsman. . . . Here is now come a snip-snap letter of reproach from Lady Ossory for not having answered her letter of compliments upon Lady Caroline's delivery. I received yours on Sunday. That was no post day, so I resolved to answer it in Berkley Square on Monday. But I did not set out till three o'clock, lost all the fine part of the morning, and did not get to town till five in the afternoon--dragged for two hours, two whole hours, through mud, and cold, and mist, till I was peris.h.i.+ng; so that when I had eat some dinner I was fit for nothing but to go to bed, and therefore did not go to Berkley Square till yesterday at noon. . . . I saw Caroline and her bambino. . . . The christening is to be, as I understand, to-morrow. I hope in G.o.d that I shall be well enough to a.s.sist, and name the child, and eat cake, and go through all the functions of a good gossip. If I am obliged to give up that which seems to have been my vocation, c'est fait de moi; I must declare myself good for nothing. I carried yesterday the regalia. The cup has been new boiled, and looks quite royal.

Sir L. Pepys was with me in the morning, and thought my pulse very quiet, which could only have been from the fatigue of the day before--juste Dieu! fatigue, of going 8 or 9 miles, my legs on the foreseat, and reposing my head on Jones's shoulder. The Duke would make her go, and everybody. He thinks that I am now the most helpless creature in the world, when, from infirmity, I want ten times more aid than I ever did. Sir Lucas p.r.o.nounced no immediate end of myself, but that I should continue to bark, with hemlock.

I'll do anything for some time longer, but my patience will, I see, after a certain time, be exhausted. As to poor Pierre, it is over with him. Sir Lucas says the disorder is past all remedy. This is a most distressful story to me, and how to supply his place I do not know.

With this letter a correspondence, unique and delightful, extending over many years, ends. At its close we may well recall Lord Carlisle's words written fourteen years before, "I shall always be grateful to fortune," he said, ". . . for having linked me in so close a friends.h.i.+p with yourself, in spite of disparity of years and pursuits." Selwyn returned to London shortly before Christmas, and died on the 25th of January, 1791. On this very day Walpole, with a touching simplicity and truth, wrote to Miss Berry, "I am on the point of losing, or have lost, my oldest acquaintance and friend, George Selwyn, who was yesterday at the extremity. These misfortunes, tho' they can be so but for a short time, are very sensible to the old; but him I really loved not only for his infinite wit, but for a thousand good qualities."