Chapter 3: 1773-1777, 1779 and 1780 Politics and Society (1)

Fox's Debts--Lord Holland--News from London--Interview with Fox--The Fire at Holland House--A Visit to Tunbridge--Provision for Mie Mie --County business and electioneering at Gloucester--Lotteries--Fox and Carlisle--Highway adventures--London Society--Newmarket intelligence--An evening in town--Charles Fox and America--Carlisle declines a Court post--Money from Fox--Selwyn and gambling--A Private Bill Committee--Selwyn in bad spirits--The Royal Society --Book-buying--Political affairs--London parks--Gainsborough--The Duchess of Kingston--Selwyn's private affairs--"The Diaboliad"--A dinner at the French Ambassador's--Politics and the Clubs--In Paris --Electioneering again.

A distinguished man of letters of the present day has called Selwyn the father confessor of the society of his time: it is a tribute to his friendliness and good sense, as well as to his good nature and patience. Without them he could never have been the trusted adviser of Carlisle in those financial difficulties in which the young peer's friendship for Charles Fox involved him. It was in 1773 that the crash came in Fox's affairs. His gambling debts had been accumulating. The birth of a son to his elder brother--closing, at any rate for the time, Charles Fox's reversionary interests--caused his creditors to press their claims. Lord Holland was obliged to come to the assistance of his son. It is at this moment that the correspondence which is gathered in the present chapter begins. Lord Holland had raised a large sum with which to pay off his son's debts. Selwyn was indignant because it seemed as if creditors less indulgent than Carlisle would be the first to be paid. So in many letters he presses upon Carlisle that he must not allow his friendship for Charles Fox to outweigh the monetary claims which he had upon him, and in no measured terms he condemns the carelessness with which Fox regarded his financial obligations to his friend.

The correspondence contained in this chapter commences at the end of the year 1773, after an apparent break of four years; there is no doubt, however, that it continued and the letters from Selwyn have not been preserved. The letters in 1773 begin by referring to the financial matters to which brief allusion has just been made, and which formed a subject so full of interest and anxiety for Selwyn. He has time, however, to give his friend news of the political and social events of London. The American question was becoming more and more important, the Declaration of Independence had startled England in 1776, and in 1774 Charles Fox had finally left the Administration of Lord North, soon to become the leader of the Whig party and the champion of the American Colonists.

(1773, Dec. 1)--This is the severest criticism which I have heard passed upon you. In all other particulars be assured that you have as much of the general esteem of the world as any man that ever came into it, and will preserve the highest respect from it if you will only from this time have such a consideration, and such a management of your fortune, as common prudence requires. Charles has destroyed his, and his reputation also, and I am very much afraid that, let what will be done now, they will in a very few years be past all kind of redemption. You will have been the innocent cause of much censure upon him, because all the friendship in the world which you can show him will never wipe off what he and his family at this instant stands (sic) accused of, which is, setting at nought the solemnest ties in the world and after the maddest dissipation of money possible, the amassing for his sake 50,000 pounds to pay everybody but those who deserved the first consideration, and without which he could never [be] said to be free, and it would [be] a constant reproach to be easy. When there was no idea but of his having 20,000 advanced, which sum was otherwise to have been left him, and I said that such and such persons would be paid first, you did not seem to credit it. Was I right? or not? in my conjectures? If I tell you now, that 16,000 pounds more than the present sum of 50,000 will come, I cannot pretend to say from what quarter, but I mean from the Holland family; and, if I tell you also, that as much more will be borrowed for purposes which do not now exist; I must tell you that I think that these sums will be sent after the others, if you do not strenuously oppose it, and if somebody does not watch over the springs from whence these supplies are to flow.

As to Hare,(92) you will do me the justice to own that I have not said a word to impeach his friendship to you. But I must set him aside as a man capable of transacting this business. It is not de son ressort, and I know that he has difficulties to combat with, if he undertakes it, which are insuperable. Now, when I talk of men of business, I will explain myself. I mean three for example: Mr. Wallis, if ever you consult him, Mr. Gregg, and Lavie. I would also seriously apply to my Lord Gower for his advice, and make him a confidant in what relates to this business. He has very powerful motives for interesting himself in it. All others I would silence at once by saying that you had fixed upon particular persons to talk with upon this subject, and that you would not listen an instant to any other. After one or two attempts to discuss the point they would give it up, and, knowing in what channel it was, would be more afraid to trifle with you about it. Charles never opens his lips to me upon the subject, and when Hare was last at my house he did not say a single word relative to it. The bond was not so much as mentioned. To speak the truth, I had rather that they would not, for I should not be able to keep my temper if they did.

I have talked this matter over with persons of established reputations in the world for good sense, knowledge, and experience, and with as nice feelings in points of honour and friendship as anybody ever had. It is their opinion which makes me so confident of my own, exclusive of the arguments themselves, qui sautent aux yeux.

Now, as to the expedients. The capital sum,(93) let us call it, 15,000. Let Charles pay immediately 5,000 pounds from the 50,000 pounds. I will endeavour a year hence to raise you five more. Let Charles and Lord Stavordale,(94) by their joint securities (and let Lady Holland contribute hers), try to raise the other 5,000, and then this debt is paid; and when the worst comes to the worst, you will lose yourself only the 5,000, which we shall endeavour to get from your own securities and resources. All this is very practicable with people who are disposed to think of their honour more than of the gratification of their own pleasure.

The Holland family went to Bath yesterday. I took my leave, and it may be a final one, of them on Monday. Charles, it is said, will follow them. What is become of Hare I know not. If you desire a letter to be shown to Lord Holland,(95) Lady H. must shew it. I will speak to you, as I promised, without reserve. I am apt to think that he will comprehend what you say very well. It is not my judgment only, but I have heard it said, that a great deal of his inattention upon these occasions has been affected, and that if the same money was to be received and not to be paid, our faculties would then improve. I wish that if he has any left, he would exert them now for the sake of the reputation of his family as well as of his own; or he will add a load of obloquy to that which has been already derived (?) upon him, on account of the means by which this dissipated wealth has been acquired; and by this last act of indifference to the honour of his son he will seem to justify all that abuse with which he has been loaded, and they will be apt to apply, what he does not certainly merit, but will nevertheless carry an air of truth with it, and they will say that--

"Plundering both his country and his friends, It's thus the Lord of useless thousands ends."

You see, my dear Lord, with how much confidence I treat you. I have thought aloud, when I have been speaking to you, which perhaps I ought not to have done, but I cannot help it. I hope that you will burn my letters, for if they served as testimonies of the warmth of my friendship to you, they might be ill interpreted by others. . . .

Charles you say has not wrote to you. There is no accounting for that or for him but by one circumstance, and that is, that the gratification of the present moment is the God of his Idolatry. You mention his credit with Lord North.(96) I know for a certainty that Lord North disavows that which I know he once gave him. "He will," they say, "manage this, and will settle that, with the Minister." Stuff! The Minister, whoever he happens to be, will settle this matter with Charles, and say, "Sir, I know you want me, and that I do not want you, but in a certain degree. Speak, and be paid, as Sir W. Young was." Alas, poor Charles! Aha promissa dederat. You say that you have not had a line from Lady H(olland); have you then wrote to her? I will add more to this if I see occasion, after I have been to talk with Lavie, who really means, I believe, to serve you with great fidelity, and reasons about this matter with great nettete and percision.

(92) James Hare (1749-1804); son of Richard Hare, apothecary, of Limestone; grandson of Bishop Francis Hare; at Eton with Fox and Carlisle, and afterwards entered Balliol College, Oxford. As a young man he was considered more brilliant than Fox, and more was expected of his future. He sat for Stockbridge from 1772-1774, and for Knaresborough from 1781 to his death. Like all of the fashionable men of his day, he played heavily. In 1779 he had become deeply involved in debt, but obtained the post of Minister Plenipotentiary to Poland, which he held until 1782; in 1802 he was very ill at Paris, where Fox made him frequent visits. He died at Bath. Lady Ossory described his wit as "perhaps of a more lively kind than Selwyn's." Storer left him a legacy of 1,000 pounds.

(93) Fox's debt to Carlisle.

(94) Henry Thomas, afterwards second Earl of Ilchester (1747-1802); the cousin and companion of Fox, and as great a gambler. "Lord Stavordale, not one-and-twenty, lost eleven thousand last Tuesday, but recovered by one great hand at hazard."

(95) Lord Holland had amassed a large fortune when Paymaster-General, and on this account his unpopularity was so great as to amount to public detestation.

(96) Frederick North, second Earl of Guildford, known in history as Lord North (1732-1792); Chancellor of the Exchequer, 1767; First Lord of the Treasury, 1770 to 1782; Secretary of State, 1783 (March to December); succeeded to Earldom of Guildford, 1790.

(1774,) January 18, Tuesday, Chesterfield Street.--I received yesterday your extreme kind letter, while I was at Lord Gower's at dinner; which dinner, by the way, or the supplement to it, lasted so long, that I have increased my cough by it greatly, and am so unable to go this morning to Court, that I think now of putting on my clothes in the evening only, and so going, as I did last year, to the King's side, to make her Majesty my bow as she passes from that apartment to the ball-room. We had yesterday at dinner Dick Vernon and Keith Stewart only, besides Lord Gower's family.

I was going home to dine by myself tres sagement et tres tranquillement, dans le dessein de me menager, when Lord G. was so good as to propose my going home with him; and thinking that to be an opportunity of talking more with him upon you and your affairs, as we did, I could not resist it. I do assure you, my dear Lord, it is a great pleasure to me to see the zeal with which he speaks of you, and your interests, which is not, to be sure, surprising, considering your connection, but it makes me happy that my former intimacy with him begins to revive, which it has gradually done, from the time that you have belonged to him.

Miss Pelham(97) came to Lady Gower after dinner, and I think intends to go to-day to the Birthday, but such a hag you have no conception of; and a patch which she is obliged to wear upon the lower eyelid, improves the horror of her appearance. She will kill herself, I make no doubt.

The letter which you have been so good to enclose for my satisfaction, from Lady Holl(an)d to you, does not much elate me, I own; it is just that of one who is obliged to say a great deal, and finds an inconvenience in doing anything; and as to Charles's writing to you, you know best how these promises have been fulfilled. If I could direct her Ladyship's good disposition, I should make her show your letter to her to Lord Holl(an)d; I am persuaded that his faculties are not so entirely lost as not to discern with how much force of reason, propriety, and good nature it is wrote. What he would do in consequence of it, I cannot be quite so sure. Then he might, perhaps, relapse into a state of imbecility, or affected anility, which might deprive you of the advantage which you should expect from it.

Among other things which passed between Lord Gower and me upon the subject of Charles, to which our conversation, by the way, was not confined, I told him that your people of business had proposed that you should sue Charles for the Annuities, and how that advice seemed to shock you. He was not surprised at that, knowing your delicacy and friendship. But sueing Charles, you will find in a short time, has no horror but in the expression. If you are shocked, you will be singly so; Charles will not be so, it is my firm belief. As soon as Lavie comes to you, he will tell you how far Mr. Crewe has embraced that idea, and what has been the consequence of it. If you will sue Lord H(ollan)d and Mr. Powell, or (for?) them, in Charles's name, you will do your business. But I do not say that it is time for that.

What I proposed to Lord Gower was only this, and that cannot have nothing (sic) rebutant in it, to either Charles or you. It is this. To hear Charles's story patiently, but to answer or reason with him as little as possible. To desire that he would be so good as to meet you at your own house, with Mr. Wallis and Mr. Gregg; we will have nothing to do with Lavie, pour le moment. Il ne respectera pas celui-ci comme les deux autres. Discuss with them before Charles the means of extricating yourself from these engagements. Let him hear what they say, and what they would advise you to do, as guardian to your children; for there is the point de vue, in which I am touched the most sensibly; and whatever Charles has to offer by way of expedient, by way of correcting their ideas, whatever hopes he can give, which are rationally founded, let him lay them before these people in your presence.

Why I wish this is, the [that] he must then have something to combat with, and that is, truth and reason. Without that, and you two together only, or Hare, what will follow? There will be flux de bouche, which to me is totally incomprehensible, as Sir G. M('Cartney) told me that it was to him. Il fondera en larmes, and then you will be told afterwards, whenever a measure of any vigour is proposed, that you had acquiesced, because you had been disarmed, confounded. This happened no longer ago than last Saturday, with Foley,(98) who related the whole conference to me, and the manner in which it was carried on. "However," says Foley, "I carried two points out of four, but I was obliged to leave him, not being able [to] resist the force of sensibility."

I confess that, had it been my case, I should have been tempted to have made use of Me de Maintenon's words to the Princesse de Conti-- "Pleurez, pleurez, Madame, car c'est un grand malheur que de n'avoir pas le coeur bon." I do not think that of Charles so much as the rest of the world does, and to which he has undoubtedly given some reason by his behaviour to his father, and to his friends. I attribute it all to a vanity that has, by the foolish admiration of his acquaintance, been worked up into a kind of phrensy, I shall be very unwilling to believe that he ever intended to distress a friend whom he loved as much as I believe that he has done you.

But really this is being very candid to him, and yet I cannot help it. For I have passed two evenings with him at supper at Almack's, ou nous avons ete lie en conversation, and never was anybody more agreeable and the more so for his having no pretensions to it, which is what has offended more people than even what Lady H(ollan)d is so good as to call his misconduct. I do assure you, my dear Lord, that notwithstanding all that I have been obliged by my friendship and confidence in you to say, I very sincerely love him, although I blame him so much, that I dare not own it; and it will give me the greatest pleasure in the world to see him take that turn which he professes to take. But what hopes can we have of it?

Vernon said yesterday after dinner, that he and some others--Bully, I think, among the rest--had been driven by the rain up into Charles's room; and when they had lugged him out of his bed, they attacked him so violently upon what he did at the Bath, that he was obliged to have recourse, as he did last year, to an absolute denial of the fact. The imagination of the blacklegs at the Billiard Table that he was gone over to Long Leate to borrow the money of Lord W(eymouth?) had in it something truly ridiculous, and serves only to shew that his Lordship had been never trusted by them.

Gregg dines to-day at Lavie's; I shall go down to meet him there, and perhaps order my chicken over from Almack's, that I may converse more en detail with Gregg upon this business of the Annuities. I like his conversation the best, I own, because I see less resentment in it. He speaks to the matters of fact, and not to the characters of the actors, which now is losing of time. God knows how well, and how universally, all that is established.

The women in town have found this a good morsel for their invective disposition, and the terms in which they express themselves tiennent de la frenesie, et de l'entousiasme. Lady Albemarle, who is not a wise woman, certainly, was at Lady Gower's the other evening, and was regretting only that Charles had not been consumed in the Fire, instead of the linnets. I am glad it was no worse. I think your fears about the rebuilding of the House are not so well founded as your satisfaction might be, that you had not been drawn in to insure it. I think that you are more obliged to what he thinks upon that subject (for he said that he did not believe in fire) than to your own prudence. I am in daily expectation of the arrival of these late sufferers at Holl[an]d H(ouse). I wish them all arrived there, I own, and that they may stay there, and that there may be no real sufferers by the fire, which there would be if any workmen had begun to rebuild the House. That would be a case of true compassion.

You desire me to tell you something of Hare and Storer,(99) &c. Storer, the Bon ton, is still at Lord Craven's. I supped with the Mauvais ton at Harry St. John's last night. I do not dislike him: he does not seem to be at all deficient in understanding, and has besides de la bonne plaisanterie. Hare is in town, and, if I was to credit his own insinuations, upon the point of bringing his affair to a conclusion. But I think that he prepares the world too much for some change in his condition, for he drives about in an old chariot of Foley's,(100) as I am told, with a servant of his own in livery; and this occasions so much speculation, that his great secret diu celari non potest. I would advise him to conclude as soon as he can this business; sans cela la machine sera d'erangee; elle ne peut aller jusques au printemps, cela est sur.

The Duke of Buccleugh has said nothing to us as yet about our anniversary dinner, but I hope that so good a custom will not be laid aside. If it is, Richard must take it up, as it is his birthday, and so I shall tell him. I have myself, by all which I have said upon the history and fate of that unfortunate Prince, excused myself from giving any sort of fete at my own house; but I do not carry my rigour so far, as not to accept one on that day at the house of another person. Voila le point ou ma devotion se prete un feu. Your letter to Lord Grantham shall be sent to the Secretary's Office this evening, and some compliments from me at the same time. I wish that he was here, that I might talk with [him] for half an hour upon your subject.

(97) Sister of Henry Pelham, niece of Duke of Newcastle (1728-1804). died at her estate at Esher, in Surrey, leaving a large fortune.

(98) Thomas Foley, second baron (1742-1793). He was noted for his sporting proclivities; Fox was his racing partner, and the money they lost, which included a hundred thousand pounds for Lord Foley, and its replenishing, was a never-ending source of gossip.

(99) Anthony Morris Storer (1746-1799), called the Bon ton, and Lord Carlisle, were termed the Pylades and Orestes of Eton, and the intimacy was continued in later life; M.P. for Carlisle 1774-80, and for Morpeth, together with Peter Delime, 1780-4. In 1781 he succeeded in obtaining the appointment as one of the Commissioners for Trade, in which Selwyn and Carlisle had so deeply interested themselves. He was with Carlisle on his mission to America in 1778 and 1779. During their political connection he acted as a medium between Fox and North, in whose family he was intimate. Fox made him Secretary of Legation at Paris in 1783--Gibbon competing for the office, and when the Duke of Manchester was called home he was nominated as Minister Plenipotentiary; six days later, however, his friends were no longer in power. It was in this year that his long friendship with Carlisle was broken; he did not stand for re-election for Morpeth and revoked the bequest of all his property which he had made to him. Storer never married. He was universally admired for his versatility and his proficiency in all he undertook; he excelled in conversation, music, and literary attainments; he was the best skater, the best dancer of his time. He began his valuable and curious collection of books and prints in 1781. On these and card-playing he spent more money than he could afford, but in 1793, at his father's death, he received an ample fortune. He then occupied himself building and adorning a property, Purley, near Reading. He left his library and prints to Eton College, which also possesses his portrait.

(100) See note (98).

1774, July 23, Chesterfield Street.--I received yesterday a reprieve from Gloucester, and Harris's sanction for my staying here a week longer; so that the meeting, and the report of Mr. Guise and Mr. Burrow's declaring themselves both as candidates upon separate interests, but secretly assisting one another, were, as Richard the 3rd calls it, a weak device of the enemy. I found myself greatly relieved, and sat down and wrote a letter to the Mayor and Corporation, which I may cite as a modele de vrai persiflage. I went and dined with Lord Ferrars and Lady Townshend;(101) she has received all her arrears, so we have now the pleasure of continuing our hostilities les pieds chauds.

Poor Lord Thomond died the evening before last of an apoplexy, with which he was seized the night before. I thought, as well as himself, that he was very near his end, and imagined that it would be this. But the news struck me, for not an hour before he was taken ill he passed by March's door as he was going to take an airing in Hyde Park, with Clever in the chariot. I was sitting upon the steps, with the little girl(103) on my lap, which diverted him, and he made me a very pleasant bow, and that was my last view of him. I had had an acquaintance with him of above thirty years, but for some time past I had seen him only occasionally. He was a sensible honest man, and when he was in spirits, and with his intimate friends, I think a very agreeable companion, but had too much reserve to make a friendship with, and not altogether the character that suits me.

White's begins to crumble away very fast, and would be a melancholy scene to those who remained if they cared for any one person but themselves. Williams gave a dinner to talk him over, which I suppose was done with the voix larmoyante, et voila tout. Lord Monson a creve aussi, and Tommy Alston, who has left a will in favour of his bastards, which will occasion lawsuits.

I have made an agreement to meet Varcy to-morrow at Knowles; from thence we go to Tunbridge; so I shall live on Monday on the Pantiles, and on Tuesday return here. I dine to-day with the Essex's at March's; we supped last night at Lady Harrington's, the consequence of which is to eat a turtle on Tuesday at an alehouse on the Ranelaugh Road, which she has seized from Lord Barrington. I called at Lady Mary's first, and found her tres triste.

Lady Holland was thought to be dying yesterday, for Lord Beauchamp was to have dined there, and at three o'clock a note came from Ste(104) to desire him not to come. The late Lord Holland's servants, preserving their friendship for my thief whom I dismissed, were so good, when their Lord died, to send for him to sit up with the corpse, as the only piece of preferment which was then vacant in the family. But they afterwards promoted him to be outrider to the hearse. Alice told me of it, and said that it was a comfort and little relief to the poor man for the present; and Mr. More, the attorney, to whom I mentioned it, said that they intended to throw him into the same thing--that was the phrase--when Lady Holland died. I beg you to reflect on these circumstances; they are dignes de Moliere et Le Sage. How my poor old friend would have laughed, if he could have known to what hands he was committed before his interment!

The night before last Meynell lost between 2 and 3,000; what the rest did I don't know. They abuse both you and me about the tie,(105) and Hare says, it was the damned[e]st thing to do at this time in the world. I told them, as Lord Cowper said in his speech to the Condemned Lords in the year 16--, "Happy had it been for all your Lordships had you lain under so indulgent a restraint." It is difficult for me to say which was the kindest thing you ever did by me, but I am sure that this was one of the wisest which I ever did by myself; and so remember that I do by this renew the lease for one month more, and it shall be as if it had been originally for two months instead of one. To this I subscribe, and to the same forfeit on my side. I received a consideration ample enough if the lease had been for a year.

(102) Anne, daughter of Sir William Montgomery, and second wife of George, first Viscount Townshend.

(103) Maria Fagniani, Selwyn's adopted daughter. This is the first mention of her in this correspondence.

(104) Stephen Fox, second Baron Holland.

(105) A self-mposed restriction on gambling. The ingenious and rather childish character of this pledge is described in a letter of December 1775.

1774, July 26, Tuesday night? Almack's.--Lady Holland, as you will see by the papers, died on Sunday morning between 7 and 8. I saw Lady Louisa and Mrs. Meillor coming in Lady Louisa's chariot between 10 and 11, which announced to me the close of that melancholy history; I mean, as far as regards my two very old friends. The loss of the latter, I must own, I feel much the more sensibly of the two; serrer les files, comme Von dit a Varnee, n'est pas assez; la perte ne laissera pas de reparoitre, in that I had counted upon a resource in the one more than in the other.

I went for a minute to see Ste(106) and Lady Mary, and then I set out for the Duke of Dorset's at Knowles (Knowle Park), where I met Varcy, and where I dined; and after dinner Varcy and I went to Tunbridge. We saw Penthurst (sic) yesterday morning, and dined with his Honour Brudenell, who gave us, that is, Varcy, Mr. and Mrs. Meynell, and Sir J. Seabright, an excellent dinner. We were at a private ball at night, and this morning early I set out for London.

Tunbridge is, in my opinion, for a little time in the summer, with a family, and for people who do not find a great deal of occupation at their country houses, one of the prettiest places in the world. The houses are so many bijouzs made up for the occasion, so near the place, so agreste, and the whole an air of such simplicity, that I am delighted with it, as much as when my amusements were, as they were formerly, at the Rooms and upon the Pantiles, which are now to me detestable.

I was pressed much to stay there to-day to dine with Meynell upon a haunch of venison, but I had solemnly engaged myself to Lady Harrington, and to her party at Spring Garden, on the road to Ranelagh. We had a very good turtle. Our company were, Lord and Lady Harrington, Lady Harriot,(107) Lady A., Maria Ord, Mrs. Boothby, Richard(108) from his quarters at Hampton Court, Crags, Lord Barrington, Barker, Langlois, and myself.

March went yesterday to Newmarket, and left a letter behind for me, to excuse him to the party; he returns on Thursday. Here is not one single soul in this house, but I came here to write to you plus a mon aise. Lady Mary Howard was at Tunbridge, and asked much after you; Lady Powis, the Duke of Leeds, hardly anybody besides that I knew. Gen. Smith came there yesterday, and I believe was in hopes of making up a hazard table; at last Lord Killy (Kelly?) said that I might have one if I pleased.

Charles and Ste, &c., are gone for the present to Red Rice. I was in hopes of seeing Storer to-day, but this damned turtle party has kept me so late that I doubt if I shall see him to-night. I met him on the road, as I was going to Knowles, on his return from Tunbridge, and he then told me that he should set out for Castle Howard to-morrow, and would have set out to-day, but that I begged that I might see him first.

They can find no will of Lord Thomond's as yet; so his poor nephew will by his procrastination be the loser of a considerable estate; for he certainly intended to have made him his heir, and the attorney had left with him a will to be filled up. But we are never sure of doing anything but what we have but one minute for doing; what we think we may do any day, we put off so many days that we do not do it all.

This reflection, and the experience which I have had in other families of the consequences of these delays, determined me to lose no time in settling, for my dear Mie Mie, that which may be the only thing done for her, and only because we-may do it any day in the week. But I thank God I've secured, as much as anything of that nature can be secured, what will be, I hope, a very comfortable resource for her. I am egregiously deceived if it will not. As for other things,' I must hope for the best. It makes me very serious when I think of it, because my affection and anxiety about her are beyond conception.

I shall not think of setting out for Gloucester, unless there is some new occurrence, till next week. I have had no fresh alarm. The lawyers are going on furiously and sanguinely against the Duchess of Kingston,(109) who is, they say, at Calais. Feilding also complains of her; so elle s'est bromllee avec la justice au pied de la lettre. Nobody doubts of her felony; the only debate in conversation is, whether she can have the benefit of her clergy. Some think she will turn Papist. All expect some untimely death. C'est un execrable personage que celui que (sic) fait mon voisin.

James has cut out work enough for himself in Hertfordshire; il s'en repentira, ou je me trompe fort. Adieu; my best compliments to Lady Carlisle and Lady Julia, and my love to the little ones. I long to see the boy excessively. I hear of your returning to London in September; pray let me hear your motions very particularly, and if you bring up the children. I am ever most truly and affectionately yours.

(106) Second Lord Holland.

(107) Lady Henrietta Stanhope, daughter of second Earl of Harrington. She married Lord Foley in 1776, and died 1781.

(108) Fitzpatrick in this correspondence is usually spoken of as Richard.

(109) Elizabeth Chudleigh, Duchess of Kingston (1720-1788). The celebrated public trial of the Duchess of Kingston for bigamy took place in Westminster Hall, April, 1776. It was proved that she had privately married Augustus, second son of Lord Hervey, but the marriage was not owned. She lived publicly with the Duke of Kingston and finally married him during Mr. Hervey's life, but at the death of the Duke, who left her all his disposable property, proceedings were instituted against her and she was found guilty. She afterwards went to St. Petersburg, where she gave an entertainment for the Empress Catherine said to be more splendid than had ever been seen in Russia. She bought an estate near St. Petersburg, calling it by her maiden name of Chudleigh, where she intended to manufacture brandy, but found herself so coldly treated by the English ambassador and Russian nobility that she removed to France, where she became involved in a lawsuit regarding the purchase of Another estate. The chagrin at loss of the case caused her death.

[1774,] July 30, Saturday night, Almack's.--I write my letter from hence, from the habitude of making this place my bureau, not that there is anybody here, or that there was the least probability of my finding anybody here. The last post night I was obliged to have an amanuensis, as you will know to-morrow morning when the post comes in. I had got a small particle of shining sand in my eye that during the whole day, but particularly at night, gave me most exquisite pain, and prevented me from writing to you, which, next to receiving your letters, is one of my great pleasures. So this was un grand evenement pour moi, par une petite cause. While the writer was writing, Hare came in, and he said that he would finish the letter for me, but what they both wrote God knows.

Storer I suppose set out yesterday for Castle H(oward), and I take for granted will be with you before this letter. March has been out of town ever since Monday till to-day. He has been at a Mr. Darell's in Cambridgeshire, who has a wife I believe with a black eye and low forward [forehead]. I guessed as much by his stay, and young Thomas who came up with him to town told me it was so.

I supped last night at Lady Hertford's with the two Fitzroys, Miss Floyd, and Lord F. Cavendish;(110) and to-day, Lady Hertford, Miss Floyd, and Lord Frederick and I dined at Colonel Kane's, who is settled in the Stable Yard, and in a damned good house, plate, windows cut down to the floor, elbowing his Majesty with an enormous bow window. The dog is monstrously well nipped; he obtrudes his civilities upon me, malgre que j'en ai, and will in time force me not to abuse him. He would help me to-day to some venison, and how he contrived it, I don't know, but for want of the Graces he cut one of my fingers to the bone, that I might as well have dined at a cut-fingered ordinary.

I am diverted with your threats that I shall have short letters, because you are plagued with Northumberland disputes. You say that you have every post letters to write, and so you will have them to write for some time, for the Devil take me if I believe that you have wrote or will write one of them. A good ronfle for that, an't please your Honour, with about twenty sheets of paper spread about upon the table, and on each of them the beginning of a letter.

You know me very well also in thinking that my heart fails me as the time of my going to Gloucester approaches. I made a very stout resistance a fortnight ago, notwithstanding Harris's importunate summons, and now he plainly confesses in a letter which I received from him to-day, that my coming down upon that pretended meeting would have been nugatory, as he calls it. The Devil take them; I have wished him and his Corporation in Newgate a thousand times. But there will be no trifling after the end of this next week. The Assizes begin on Monday sevennight. Then the Judges will be met, a terrible show, for I shall be obliged to dine with them, and be in more danger from their infernal cooks than any of the criminals who are to be tried, excepting those who will be so unfortunate as to have our jurisconsult for their advocate.

I would not advise you to be unhappy about Caroline's(111) want of erudition; a very little science will do at present, and much cannot be poured into the neck of so small a vessel at once. I agree with you that it is not to be wished that she should be a savante, and she will know what others know. I have no doubt there is time enough for her to read, and little Morpeth(112) to walk.

There is, I grant you, more reason to fear for Hare. Boothby(113) assures me that as yet no prejudice has been done to his fortune. I have my doubts of that, but am clear that he runs constant risk of being very uneasy. But there is no talking to him; he has imbibed so much of Charles's ton of qu'importe, que cela peut mener a l'hopital.

Lady Holland(114) will be removed on Monday, and my thief one of her outriders. All Lord Holland's servants, since he had that house at Kingsgate, have been professed smugglers, and John, as I am informed, was employed in vending for them some of their contraband goods, for which he was to be allowed a profit. He sold the goods, and never accounted with his principals for a farthing; and so now they place him to sit up with the corps[e] of the family, and to act as one of their undertakers, that they may be in part reimbursed. This is the dessous des cartes, qui est veritablement comique, et singulier. Ste, &c., will be here about the end of the week.

I hear that the night that Charles sat up at White's, which was that preceding the night of Lady Holland's death, he planned out a kind of itinerant trade, which was going from horse race to horse race, and so, by knowing the value and speed of all the horses in England, to acquire a certain fortune.

I learned from Bore to-day, that Sir G. M'Cartney is a debtor to the family as well as myself, and his debt is to the amount of five thousand pounds, which I am afraid he will find it difficult to raise.

Blaquiere and George Howard are to have two Red Ribbands on Wednesday. There is no end to the honours of your family. I have entrusted Lady Carlisle's picture, I mean your grandmother's, to Linnell, to be framed and cleaned, and then it will be sent to Castle Howard. March I hear goes to Huntingdon next Tuesday.

I think that I shall set out on Thursday next, or if my heart fails me, not till Saturday. I shall then be time enough to meet these Judges, who do not begin to poison and hang till Monday. Lady Mary has promised to make me a present of the little antique ring which you gave to Lord Holland.

Did I tell you that I saw Lord Ilchester?(115) He shewed me a letter which he had received from Ste on his mother's death, and some trifling things which had belonged to Lord H(olland). Lord Ilchester was extremely pleased with this mark of his affection, and indeed the letter was a very kind and well-bred letter as any I ever read.

I find Lord Thomond most excessively blamed in having neglected to make his will, so that he has died at last en mauvaise odeur with his White's friends. I cannot but think, as he was so remarkably methodical, that he intended, by making no will, that the estate should go where the law directs, especially as the second son of his brother has besides so ample a fortune.

Williams has been giving a different account of the public money left in Lord Holland's hands from any which I ever before heard. He, Walters, Offley, and March dined at White's. I called in there after dinner. Williams said that a calculation is made of what the interest of that money will amount to from this time to the settlement of the account; and that it is to be made capital, and is part of what is due to the public. I protest I don't understand him, nor do I conceive what the residue of the personal estate will amount to; but not to much, as the opinion of the family is. The reports, and belief of those who are not in the secret, are out of all credibility.

Lady Holland's second will, or codicil, will not be opened till the family returns to town. Everybody is inquisitive to know if you and Foley are safe. Il est merveilleux l'interet que tout le monde prend a tout ceci, aussi bien qu'au manage de notre Prince, dont je ne saurois pour dire des nouvelles. Meynell, Panton, and James are in Hertfordshire, and the highty-tighty man at Port Hill in the damnest (sic) fright in the world about the small-pox. I hope the poor devil will get over it.

Adieu, my dear lord. If I was prevented from writing by last post, cette fois-ci je m'en suis bein venge. . . .

I see your porter every morning in the grove, as he returns from Islington, where he is drinking the waters; he looks a little better, but not much. They have lent him a horse to ride there, and he says that he finds the air where he is to agree better with him than that of the country.

Pray tell Shepardson that I ask after her, and my compliments to Mr. Willoughby, if you see him. I have demonstrated to Sir G. Metham that I [am] originally a Yorkshire man, and that my name is Salveyne; and he says that the best Yorkshire blood does at this time run through my veins, and so I hope it will for some time before the circulation of it is stopped.

(110) A distinguished soldier, afterwards Field-Marshal (1738-1803).

(111) Eldest daughter of the Earl of Carlisle; married, 1789, John Campbell, who was created first Lord Cawdor; she died 1848.

(112) George, Lord Morpeth, afterwards sixth Earl of Carlisle (1773-1848). In this correspondence Selwyn often refers to him as George. Selwyn had a strong affection for him, and treated him with sympathy and tact.

(113) Sir Brooke Boothby (1743-1824). One of the fashionable young men of the period. He devoted himself particularly, however, to literary society, and published verses, and political and classical works. He lived for a time in France, and was a friend of Rousseau.

(114) Lady Holland died on July 24th.

(115) Stephen Fox, first Earl of Ilchester (1704-1776), the elder brother of Henry, first Lord Holland.

The duties of a country gentleman and a Member of Parliament, the boredom of a visit to a constituency could not always be avoided by Selwyn. Thus the two following letters are written from Gloucestershire.

(1774,) Aug. 9, Tuesday, Gloucester.--I set out from London on Saturday last, as intended, and came to Matson the next day to dinner. I found our learned Counsel in my garden; he dined with me, and lay at my house, and the next morning he came with me in my chaise to this place for the Assizes. I have seen little of him since, being chiefly in the Grand Jury chamber, but I take it for granted that till this morning that he set out for London his hands were full of business, and the two men condemned were his clients, who were condemned only par provision till he had drawn up the case.

This town has been very full of the neighbouring gentlemen, and I suppose the approaching elections have been the cause of it. I am not personally menaced with any opposition, but have a great dread of one, because the contentions among those who live in the country and have nothing else to do but to quarrel, are so great, that without intending to hurt me, they will stir up trouble and opposition, which will be both hazardous and expensive. I am tormented to take a part in I know not what, and with I know not whom, and my difficulty is to keep off the solicitation of my friends, as they call themselves, who want a bustle, the expense of which is not to be defrayed by themselves.

I do assure you that it is a monstrous oppression of spirits which I feel, and which I would not feel for an hour if I had nobody's happiness to think of but my own, which would be much more secured by a total renunciation of Parliament, Ministers, and Boroughs than by pursuing the emoluments attached to those connections. However, as it is the last time that I shall ever have anything to do of this kind, I will endeavour to keep up my spirits as well as I can; but I must declare to you that it is an undertaking that is most grievous to me, that I am ashamed of, and that neither the established custom of the country [n]or the nature of our Government does by any means reconcile to me.

I have dinners of one sort or other till Tuesday, and then I purpose to set out for London, unless some unforeseen event prevents me. Horry Walpole has a project of coming into this part of the world the end of this week, and, if he does, of coming to me on Saturday. I shall be glad to converse with anybody whose ideas are more intelligible than those of the persons I am now with. But I do not depend much upon seeing him.

The weather is very fine, and Matson in as great beauty as a place can be in, but the beauties of it make very little impression upon me. In short, there is nothing in this eccentric situation in which I am now that can afford me the least pleasure, and everything I love to see in the world is at a distance from me. All I do is so par maniere d'acquit, et de si mauvaise grace, that I am surprised at the civility with which I am treated.

I am in daily hopes of hearing from you. I am sorry that the children are to be left behind; that is, that their health, which is a valuable consideration, makes it prudential. I shall be happy when I see them again, but it is not in my power to fix the time any more than the means of my happiness. . . .

Storer has little to do than to sing, Se caro sei, and to write to me, and therefore pray make him write. Richard the Third is to be acted here to-night. I will go and see an act of it, pour me desennuyer.

(1774,) Aug. 13, Saturday, Matson.--As you are one of the first persons who occupies my thoughts when I awake, so it shall be a rule with me hereafter, when I am to write to you, to make that my first business, and not defer, as I have these two last posts, writing till the evening, when it is more probable, at least in this place, to suffer some interruption. This looks like an apology for what I am sure needs none; it requires much more, that I seem to have established it as a rule to trouble you so often. I have not here the shallow pretence of telling you some little occurrence[s] which can hardly be interesting in the Parish of St. James's, but when they are confined to this spot. I can have no reason for pestering you with them, but par un esprit de bavardise, ou pour me rappeler plus souvent a votre souvenir; ce que votre amitie a rendu pour moi tres inutile.

I have this whole week been immersed in all the provincial business of a justice, a juryman, and a candidate; and yesterday was forced to open my trenches before the town as one who intended to humbug them for one seven years more.

J'ignore le destin qui le ciel me prepare, Mais il est temps enfin qu' larbe se declare.

I entertained the whole Corporation (of the City of Gloucester) yesterday at dinner, and afterwards made them a speech, which I am glad that nobody heard but themselves. However i'ai reussi, I do not mean in point of eloquence, but I carried my point; and if it was possible to judge from the event of one meeting only, I should think that there would be a peaceable election, and the expense not exceed many hundred pounds, and those given chiefly to the service of the city. But if [I] did not make my escape, and parry off all the proposals made to me by the people whose whole employment is to create disturbance, I should soon be drawn into a contest from which I should not escape but at the expense of thousands.

At night I heard that Mr. Walpole is here; I was then at Gloucester; so I hurried home, and have now some person to converse with who speaks my own language. He came yesterday from Lady Ailesbury's, and stays with me till Tuesday, and then I hope we shall return to London together. I am to have the satisfaction of another festival on Monday, on which day Mr. Walpole proposes to go and see Berkley and Thornbury Castles.