Chapter CCXLVII: Letter 258: To The Countess Of Suffolk.(846)

London, July 3, 1765. (page 411)

Your ladyship's goodness to me on all occasions makes me flatter myself that I am not doing an impertinence in telling you I am alive; though, after what I have suffered, you may be sure there cannot be much of me left. The gout has been a little in my stomach, much more in my head, but luckily never out of my right foot, and for twelve, thirteen, and seventeen hours together, insisting upon having its way as absolutely as ever my Lady Blandford(847) did. The extremity of pain seems to be over, though I sometimes think my tyrant puts in his claim to t'other foot; and surely he is, like most tyrants, mean as well as cruel, or he could never have thought the leg of a lark such a prize. The fever, the tyrant's first minister, has been as vexatious as his master, and makes use of this hot day to plague me more; yet, as I was sending a servant to Twickenham, I could not help scrawling out a few lines to ask how your ladyship does, to tell you how I am, and to lament the roses, strawberries, and banks of the river. I know nothing, Madam, of ,any kings or ministers but those I have mentioned; and this administration I fervently hope will be changed soon, and for all others I shall be very indifferent. had a (,real prince come to my bedside yesterday, I should have begged that the honour might last a very few minutes. I am, etc.

(846) Now first collected.

(847) lady Blandford was somewhat impatient in her temper. See ant`e, p. 342, letter 220.-E.

letter 259 To The Countess Of Suffolk.(848) Arlington Street, July 9, 1765. (page 411)

Madam, though instead of getting better, as I flattered myself I should, I have gone through two very painful and sleepless nights, yet as I give audience here in my bed to new ministers and foreign ministers, I think it full as much my duty to give an account of myself to those who are so good as to wish me well. I am reduced to nothing but bones and spirits; but the latter make me bear the inconvenience of the former, though they (I mean my bones) lie in a heap over one another like the bits of ivory at the game of straws.

It is very melancholy, at the instant I was getting quit of politics, to be visited with the only thing that is still more plaguing. However, I believe the fit of politics going off makes me support the new-comer better. Neither of them indeed will leave me plumper;(849) but if they will both leave me at peace, your ladyship knows it is all I have ever desired. The chiefs of' the new ministry were to have kissed hands to-day; but Mr. Charles Townshend, who, besides not knowing either of his own minds, has his brother's minds to know too, could not determine last night. Both brothers are gone to the King to-day. I was much concerned to hear so bad an account of your ladyship's health. Other people would wish you a severe fit, which is a very cheap wish to them who do not feel it: I, who do, advise you to be content with it in detail. Adieu! Madam. Pray keep a little summer for me. I will give You a bushel of politics, when I come to Marble Hill, for a teacup of strawberries and cream.

Mr. Chetwynd,(851) I suppose, is making the utmost advantage of any absence, frisking and cutting capers before Miss Hotham, and advising her not to throw herself away on a decrepit old man.- -Well, fifty years hence he may begin to be an old man too; and then I shall not pity him, though I own he is the best-humoured lad in the world now. Yours, etc.

(848) Now first collected.

(849) Walpole was too fond of this boast of disinterestedness. What was it but politics that made his fortune so plump? His fortune from his father, we know from himself, was very inconsiderable;-but from his childhood he held sinecure offices which, during the greater part of his life, produced him between six and seven thousand pounds per annum.-C.

(851) William Chetwynd, brother of the two first Viscounts, and himself, in 1767, third Viscount Chetwynd. He was at this time nearly eighty years of age.-E.