Private Letters of Edward Gibbon (1753-1794) Volume 1 (of 2)

200.
To J. B. Holroyd, Esq

Boodle's, May 24th, 1774.

*I wrote three folio pages to you this morning, and yet you complain. Have reason, and have mercy; consider all the excellent reasons for silence which I gave you in one of my last, and expect my arrival in Sussex, when I shall talk more in a quarter of an hour than I could write in a day. A propos of that arrival; never pretend to allure me, by painting in odious colours the dust of London. I love the dust, and whenever I move into the Wold,^[238] it is to visit you and My lady, and not your Trees. About this day month I mean to give you a visitation. I leave it to Guise, Clarke, and the other light Horse, to prance down for a day or two. They all talk of mounting, but will not fix the day. Sir John [Russel], whom I salute, has brought you, I suppose, all the news of Versailles.^[239] Let me only add, that the Mesdames, by attending their father, have both got the small-pox. Your Attorney has your Case. I congratulate you. I can make nothing of Lovegrove, or his Lawyer. You will swear at the shortness of this letter. – Swear.*

201.
To J. B. Holroyd, Esq

Bentinck Street, June 4th, 1774.

I hope you, Templar, Doves, &c., got down safe. Compliments to Maria and My Lady. – I passed this morning, three horrid hours at Searle's Coffee House.^[240] I was a Hero, La Brute not exceedingly clever, and M. more candid than I had yet seen him. We almost parted once in the mutual defiance. At last they consented that on Monday and Tuesday, the two Attornies should examine the Deeds at Gosling's, compare them with the Abstract and lay the whole before Duane: and likewise that they should search Offices about my title to the great Tythes without prejudice to the General Warranty which was agreed to by letter. If we coalesce at all, Arbitration; if not, Chancery. The latter I fear, and I must own that I fear it in every respect. Adieu.

E. G.

202.
To J. B. Holroyd, Esq

Saturday Evening, 11th June, 1774.

DIFFICULTIES WITH LENBOROUGH.

The enclosed came to-day – The business of the search is finished, and will I fancy be laid before Duane. The Omens are a little more favourable; when I see farther I write. I will not affront either you or myself by thanking you for your offers – Embrace My Lady, – Clarke who is in town for 48 hours salutes; he talks of taking Sheffield in his way to his Kentish Estate – the time not determined. The Fete Champetre^[241] would fill volumes: by all accounts dull ones. Adieu.

203.
To J. B. Holroyd, Esq

25th June, 1774.

I am alive.

You know how much rather I would send my person than Epistle to Sheffield. Therefore you will, I flatter myself, forgive my silence when I tell you that on Monday the 4th of July I shall certainly dine at the aforesaid place. Clarke will cross the country from Aldershot nearly about the same time. My Lenborough business is almost at a stand, as I shall then tell you more particularly. It is indeed a damned affair.

Salute My Lady and Maria.

2004.
To his Stepmother

Bentinck Street, June 29th, 1774.

Dear Madam,

*Do you remember that there exists in the World one Edward Gibbon, a Housekeeper in Bentinck Street? If the standard of writing and of affection was the same, I am sure he would ill deserve it. I do not wish to discover how many days (I am afraid I ought to use another word) have elapsed since the date of my last, or even of your last letter; and yet such is the sluggish nature of the beast, that I am afraid nothing but the arrival of Mrs. Bonfoy, and the expectation of Mr. Eliot, could have rouzed me from my Lethargy. The Lady gave me great satisfaction, by her general account of your health and spirits, but communicated some uneasiness, by the mention of a little encounter, in the style of one of Don Quixote's, but which proved, I hope, as trifling as you at first imagined it. For my own part, I am well in mind and body, busy with my Books, (which may perhaps produce something next year, either to tire or amuse the World,) and every day more satisfied with my present mode of life, which I always believed was calculated to make me happy. My only remaining uneasiness is Lenborough, which is not terminated. By Holroyd's advice, I rather try what may be obtained by a little more patience, than rush at once into the horrors of Chancery.

SIR STANIER PORTEN.

But let us talk of something else.* You remember surely Mrs. Hobson (Miss Comarque). She is just returned to England under a different name. She is now Madame la Baronne de Bavois. Her second husband is an old Swiss Officer about seventy, a man of family, but with as little money as character, who most probably married her for a fortune which he now begins to discover was spent to his hands. They talk of leaving England very soon, and fixing themselves in some cheap Provincial town in the South of France. The Baronne is more ridiculous, and will I fear be more miserable than ever. Mrs. Porten, out of regard to the laws of Hospitality, gave them a dinner last Sunday, & insists on my doing the same to-day, and her brother Sunday next. She grows younger every day, but Sir Stanier much older. *You remember, I think in Newman Street, a good agreeable Woman, Miss Wybolt. The under Secretary^[242] is seriously in love with her, and seriously uneasy that his precarious situation precludes him from happiness. We shall soon see which will get the better, Love or reason. I bet three to two on love.*

I cannot find your last letter (a sad memento); did not you ask me with whom Deyverdun was gone abroad? with young Lord Middleton. Lady Fetherston (as they are to return next spring) is mad to get him, but I should fancy Sir Harry must be consulted – I hear confusedly of strange Revolutions in the Gould family.

Next week I go to Sheffield place. Holroyd, who passes a few days with me, was sincerely concerned to hear that you had no thoughts of the Journey this summer. His Father, I find, has had a violent attack.

I am, Dear Madam,

Most truly yours,

E. G.

The Goslings will obey your commands, whenever you please to signify them.

205.
To J. B. Holroyd, Esq

Bentinck Street, August 6th, 1774.

With regard to your influencing the Jury, I am convinced that B. is in the right. Out of twelve Jurymen, I suppose six to be incapable of understanding the question, three afraid of giving offence, and two more who will not take the trouble of thinking. Remains one who has sense, courage and application. Ergo B. is in the right. But as he has no right on this occasion to be in the right, and as you were not Foreman, I am totally against your committing yourself with such a fellow, giving him anything under your hand or permitting him to publish your letters. If it be really true that you were mistaken as to the date of the Defamation, you have gone further than perhaps you might have done in the article of damages, but as I still think you committed no injustice, I cannot see that the Jury, much less any individual of it, owe him any reparation. Considering the profession of the two men, very high damages were surely required for the accusation of so scandalous a crime, which was certainly groundless since it was afterwards disproved in a Court of Justice. What you supposed to be the case (and by the bye I would in a polite letter ask the question of the Judge) was no more than an aggravation, and an aggravation too of a public rather than a private nature, consequently relating rather to punishment than to damages. – Upon the whole I disapprove of your corresponding with B., who seems capable of any rascally trick. Nothing that he can publish will affect your character, especially in an affair where it is well known that you had neither interest nor passion to mislead you. However if you think differently, or find yourself too far engaged with him, your letter is proper and guarded.

You make me very uneasy by a part of your last; pray send me a speedy, and if you can a favorable account of Dr. H[eberden]'s visit. – She has been so well a great while. – Clarke is now in the Country, – Aldershot. I heard from him yesterday. His health there has been various, and is not I fear quite settled. I break off to get into my chaise for Twickenham. People may talk of the town's being empty in September, my only complaint is the thickness of my engagements. I have not by many degrees been so diligent as I intended. I have conversed with Cadell,^[243] and find him ready and even willing. He proposes next March (if I am prepared) and 75 °Copies. Deliberabimus. The snails of the Law are copying the Tythe deed, and we shall soon see the effect of it. Hugonin's letter I have not yet read, it is only a week since it was received, no hurry. I believe I must goad Gilbert in his enquiries, in case you cannot do it without giving room to surmises.

E. G.

206.
To J. B. Holroyd, Esq

Bond Street, Wednesday Evening, 10th August, 1774.

Dear H.,

ILLNESS OF GODFREY CLARKE.

Though I can assure you that the first stage from S. P. was heavy and awkward, yet I am very glad that I came to Town. Sir Edmond's intelligence was but too well founded, and poor Clarke is here in a very unpleasant way. His Aunts and Sister are come up on purpose. He is attended by Dr. Thomas and the family Apothecary who has known his Constitution from a child; yet both are at a loss, his spirits, stomach and head are all violently affected: the disorder seems of an intermittent nature. I now write from his lodgings. I had seen him in the morning (for last night he could not see me) and left him taking a medicine; he threw it up with a large quantity of black bile, and has been in bed (but not easy) since two o'clock. Adieu. Embrace My Lady and Maria for me. May the great Saturday be correct. I shall write soon. Send me some account of the progress of Architecture.

207.
To J. B. Holroyd, Esq

12th August, 1774.

Dear H.,

I write two lines to acquaint you that Clarke is much better than he was; all doors have been set open for the retreat of the unwelcome guest, and in a great measure he has taken the hint. Spirits have rose with health, and he desires to be remembered to S. P. – Wilkes is dangerously ill, we shall lose much amusement. The Victory of the Russians is real but not decisive.^[244] If you have an Irish Cream-cheese to spare, Bentinck Street is ready to receive it. Success to the august morrow. It will be over ere you receive this. Adieu.

I shall remember your frank, but the paper is not in my pocket, nor the name in my memory.

208.
To J. B. Holroyd, Esq

Bond Street, Tuesday morning, eleven o'clock, August, 1774.

Dear H.,

Since my last we have had an alarm, a very terrible one indeed. On Sunday Clarke was better than I had yet seen him, and said that he felt himself getting well apace. He slept several hours in the night, but about five o'clock the Monday morning, he was seized with a fit so very violent that it totally deprived him of his speech and almost of his senses; a blister and plaister to his feet were immediately applied, and Turton was called in to consult with Dr. Thomas his ordinary Physician.

They both judged him in the most imminent danger, and particularly were alarmed by a numbness (which he complained of as soon as he could speak), and which was the same symptom as had proved the forerunner of his father's apoplexy. He recovered however from his fit, and even from the immediate consequences of it sooner than could have been expected, was perfectly sensible last night, and this morning appears even chearful and easy. But his Physicians still think him in danger of a Relapse, and to his friends the prospect is still shocking. You will easily forgive me for not writing on any other subject. Adieu.

209.
To J. B. Holroyd, Esq

August the 20th, 1774.

I begin with what I am sure will interest you the most, notwithstanding your own schemes, I mean the state of Clarke's health. It is surprisingly well, as likewise his spirits, both far better than by his own account they have been for many months. The recovery is indeed perfect; may it be lasting. But his Doctors have still their fears.

A NEW MAN FOR THE COUNTY.

Now to your designs, I have turned them on every side and will give you my opinion as distinctly as so very slight a knowledge of your county will permit.

1. I cannot yet think you ripe for a county member.^[245] Five years are very little to remove the obvious objection of a novus homo, and of all objections it is perhaps the most formidable, as it rouzes the foolish pride and envy of all the animals – bears, hogs, asses and Rhinoceroses who have slept in the country for some generations. To these only (who by the courtesy of England are called Gentlemen) are you as yet known, and by these you will never be liked. Seven more years of an active life will spread your fame among the great body of Freeholders at large, and to them you may one day offer yourself on the most honourable footing, that of a candidate whose real services to the County have deserved and will repay the favor which he then solicits. You must recollect, too, some very good reason you gave me yourself, why the attempt might be more convenient and the success more desirable seven years hence than at present.

2. Consider that you are rising in rebellion against an establishment which, however feeble, always fights with very great advantages. When a vacancy happens – either by death or resignation, any Gentleman who thinks himself qualified has a natural right to offer his services, and as he may succeed without envy, so he may retreat without shame. Your prise d'armes must hurt you, I think, if you were not victorious. People grumble; Englishmen love to grumble, and are satisfied with having done it. You see many obstacles. Goodwood^[246] reluctant, Ld. Ash.^[247] hostile, the green plumb^[248] probably interested, and a large previous subscription backed by strong interest. As to the multitude, you cannot conceive the effect of the magic sounds, disturbing the peace of the County.

3. To all this you oppose 'hur own if hur can catch hur.' But I should much distrust the strength of your desired Ally.^[249] Unpleasant recollections, a stately and supposed proud behaviour, a solitary life, since he never troubles himself with County meetings, must, I should apprehend, very greatly diminish his popularity, and conceal those abilities which you so justly value, but which few of your country boors are qualified to understand or esteem. Is the mere Dorset^[250] interest a commanding one?

4. You say that you are not apprehensive at Lewes of a horrid silence or hiss. Perhaps not. But should you be so easily satisfied? Who do you design should propose you at the nomination meeting? for much depends on that, not only as to the hopes of success, but even the dignity and propriety of the declaration. The person to move and the person to second it (for both are necessary) should be distinguished in the County, either by character or property; Minden^[251] would certainly do very well. You will tell me that your connection is not sufficiently formed to request such a favour. But is not that a proof that things are yet unripe?

5. If you proceed, which upon the whole, I strongly dissuade, I would (in case of a favourable answer from Minden) immediately epistolize or rather visit Goodwood. I would declare my intention of taking the sense (if any can be found) of the General meeting, requesting that if it should prove favourable to Lord G. L[ennox] and myself, we might previously agree to advertise and act together. A refusal would permit you to retreat with honour, consent would enable you to advance with vigour and confidence, and even the proposal would place you on the much desired footing of a future Candidate. After all, for God's sake remember the expence, and do not trust your fortune and your passions to the danger of a Contest.

Duane after a very long delay has at last given his opinion concerning the tythes, and the opinion is favourable. He thinks the title, clear, safe, and even compellable, but directs that the original grants of James the first's time should be searched for in the proper office and copied. This will be attended with some expence, but it cannot be avoided. Newton, whom I saw to-day, writes by this post to Matthews and sends him the opinion. So that in a short time we may I think either come to an amicable conclusion, or meet them in arms on firm ground. I hear nothing of the insurance. Cream cheese will be welcome. – To my Lady and the monstrous Maria, salut.

210.
To J. B. Holroyd, Esq

Saturday evening.

THE VICTORY OF ROMANZOW.

I am in a violent hurry – Clarke is extremely well – I have sent you the Deputation. The old Lady expects to hear from me soon. I wish your Geographer was arrived, and that Gilbert had discovered the Tythe owners. *By your submission to the voice of reason, you eased me of a heavy load of anxiety. I did not like your enterprize.* 'Who is the green plumb?' Why the brother-in-law of Sampson to be sure.^[252] As to papers, I will shew you I can keep them safe till we meet. *What think you of the Turks and Russians? Romanzow is a great Man. He wrote an account of his amazing success to Mouskin Pouskin^[253] here, and declared his intention of retiring as soon as he had conducted the army home; desiring that Pouskin would send him the best plan he could procure of an English Gentleman's farm. In his answer, Pouskin promised to get it; but added, that at the same time he should send the Empress a plan of Blenheim, a handsome Compliment, I think. My Lady and Maria, as usual.* Where is my Cheese?

211.
To J. B. Holroyd, Esq

Bentinck Street, Sept. 10th, 1774.

*Since Heberden is returned, I think the road lyes plain before you; I mean the Turnpike road. The only party which in good sense can be embraced is, without delay, to bring My Lady to B[entinck] S[treet], where you may inhabit two or three nights, and have any advice (Turton, Heberden, &c.) which the town may afford, in a case that most assuredly ought not to be trifled with. Do this as you value our good opinion. The Cantabs^[254] are strongly in the same sentiments. There can be no apprehension of late hours, &c. as none of Mrs. H.'s raking acquaintance are in town.* As to Burtenshaw's Manifesto, I can form no judgement of an imperfect fragment, except that it appears to me very artful. The case relative to you I have reconsidered, but find no reason to alter my opinion.

1st. An answer on your side cannot be necessary, since he had no right to single you out.

2dly. It cannot be expedient, since a fellow of so much passion and cunning will surely in the end either provoke you or entangle you in an unworthy contest. If however you have given him hopes of an answer, I would positively declare to him that it should be the last, and that no consideration should tempt me to a reply.

You give me no account of the Works. When do you inhabit the library? Turn over – great things await you.

OFFER OF A SEAT IN PARLIAMENT.

*It is surely infinite condescension for a Senator to bestow his attention on the affairs of a Juryman. A Senator? Yes, sir, at last Quod nemo promittere Divum auderet, volvenda dies en! attulit ultro.* About ten days ago Eliot spent an hour with me, talked sensibly of his will, and his children, and requested that I would be Executor to the one and Guardian to the other. I consented to accept an office which indeed I consider as an essential duty of social life. We parted. *Yesterday morning, about half an hour after seven, as I was destroying an army of Barbarians, I heard a double rap at the door, and my Cornish friend was soon introduced. After some idle conversation he told me, that if I was desirous of being in Parliament, he had an independent seat very much at my service.* You may suppose my answer, but my satisfaction was a little damped when he added that the expence of the election would amount to about £2400, & that he thought it reasonable that we should share it between us. I paused, and, recovering myself, hinted something of Parental extravagance, and filial narrowness of circumstances and want of ready money, and that I must beg a short delay to consider whether I could with prudence accept of his intended favour, on which I set the highest value. His answer was obliging, that he should be very much mortified if a few hundred pounds should prevent it, and that he had been afraid to offend me by offering it on less equal terms. His behaviour gave me courage to propose an expedient, which was instantly accepted with cordiality and eagerness, that when his second son John (who is now thirteen) came of age I would restore to him my proportion of the money.

I am not disposed to build Castles in Spain, but I think my conduct prudent. Before that time my own honest industry or the deaths of old Ladies may make me a richer man: or else I can offer (some years hence) a fair and liberal bargain, that I will settle Beriton on John, in case I have no children, with the proviso that on the birth of a child, I shall pay him the money with legal interest. The agreement will be easy for me, and advantageous to them. *This is a fine prospect opening upon me, and if next spring I should take my seat, and publish my book, it will be a very memorable Era in my life. I am ignorant whether my Borough will be Leskeard^[255] or St. Germains. You despise Boroughs, and fly at nobler game. Adieu.*