letter I shall be on my way to England, and that I hope to reach

London on or before the 9th of next month. I need not say that by the first post you shall be apprized of my arrival. I bring over the remainder of my history, and only regret that instead of running down to Bath, the necessary cares of an author will detain me in the neighbourhood of London and the press. But my impatience will be alleviated by the convenience of a near and frequent intercourse, and I sincerely hope that you can return the assurance which I give, that I have been long happy and am now well.

I am, My Dear Madam, Ever yours, E. G.

509.

_To Lord Sheffield._

Lausanne, July 21st, 1787.

*The 20th of July is past, and I am still at Lausanne; but the march of heavy bodies, such as armies and historians, can seldom be foreseen or fixed to a precise day. Some particular reasons have engaged me to allow myself another week; and the day of my departure is now (_I believe_) determined for Sunday the 29th instant. You know the road and the distance. I am no rapid English traveller, and my servant is not accustomed to ride post. I was never fond of deeds of darkness, and if the weather be hot, we must repose in the middle of the day. Yet the roads are in general good: between Sun and Sun the interval is long; and, barring the accidents of winds and waves, I think it possible to reach London in ten or twelve days; _viz._ on or before the ninth of August. With your active spirit, you will scarce understand how I can look on this easy journey with some degree of reluctance and apprehension; but after a tranquil, sedentary life of four years, (having lain but a single night out of my own bed,) I see mountains and monsters in the way; and so happy do I feel myself _at home_, that nothing but the strongest calls of friendship and interest could drag me from hence.*

[Sidenote: HIS ARRIVAL IN LONDON.]

You ingeniously propose that I should turn off at Sittenbourn, and seem to wonder what business I can find, or make, for an immediate residence in the Capital. Have you totally forgot that I bring over three quarto volumes for the press? and are you ignorant that not a moment must be lost, if we are desirous of appearing at a proper season? I must ratify and sign my agreement with Cadell and Strahan, deliver the first part of the manuscript, settle some preliminaries with the printer and corrector, revise the first sheets, procure some necessary books, consult others, and set the machine in motion before I can secede to Sheffield-place with an easy mind, and for a reasonable term. Of this be assured, that I shall not be less impatient than yourself, and that, of human two-legged animals, yourself and yours are the first, though not the sole, whom I shall wish to see in England.

For myself, I do not regret the occupancy of Downing Street;[113] in my first visit to London, a lodging or hotel in the Adelphi will be more convenient; but I have some anxiety about my books, and must try whether I can approach those holy relicks, without offending the delicacy of an amiable Dutchess.

Our interview is so near, that I have little more to add, except a single caution about my own concerns, in which you will confess, that from Lovegrove, and Winton, to Newton, I have been generally unlucky. If any thing remains, present or future, it must be agitated and decided; but all retrospects are useless and painful, and we have so many pleasant subjects of conversation, that all such odious matters may be buried in oblivion. Adieu. I embrace My Lady and Louisa, but I no longer presume, even on paper, to embrace the tall and blooming Maria.

Ever yours, E. G.

Let me find a letter at Elmsley's, and inform me of the direction of your agent Purden. I may possibly have a commission for him.

[113] Lord Sheffield had let his house in Downing Street to the Duchess of Gordon. "The Duchess of Gordon will dance my house in Downing Street down" (Lord Sheffield to William Eden, February 27, 1787: _Auckland Correspondence_, vol. i. p. 405).

510.

_To Lord Sheffield._

Adelphi Hotel, August the 8th, 1787.

*Intelligence extraordinary.--This day (August the 7th) the celebrated E. G. arrived in the Adelphi with a numerous retinue (one Servant). We hear that he has brought over from Lausanne the remainder of his history for immediate publication. The post had left town before my arrival. I am pleased, but indeed astonished, to find myself in London, after a journey of six hundred miles, and hardly yet conceive how I had resolution to undertake it. I find myself not a little fatigued, and have devoted this hot day to privacy and repose, without having seen any body except Cadell and Elmsley, and my neighbour Batt, whose civility amounts to kindness and real friendship. But you may depend on it, that instead of sauntering in town, or giving way to every temptation, I will dispatch my necessary work, and hasten with impatience to the groves of Sheffield-place; a project somewhat more rational than the hasty, turbulent visit which your vigour had imagined. If you come up to quicken my diligence,[114] we shall meet the sooner; but I see no appearance of my leaving town before the end of next week. I embrace, &c. Adieu.*

[114] "I went to London," writes Lord Sheffield to William Eden from Sheffield Place, on August 22, 1787, "for a few days to conduct the Gibbon to this place. The Gibbon is settled here till winter; he will reside with us in Downing Street in winter and spring. The three quartos will appear in the spring, but as to remaining in this country, he has not the slightest notion of it. I have not yet succeeded in infusing a proper political zeal into him" (_Lord Auckland's Journal and Correspondence_, vol. i. pp. 435, 436).

511.

_To his Stepmother._

Adelphi Hotel, August 9th, 1787.

MY DEAR MADAM,

At length, after a pleasant journey, I again breathe the air of my native country; and though I quitted with some regret my friends, my house, my garden, my library at Lausanne, I already find many objects that compensate my losses. I reached the Adelphi Hotel _Wednesday_ the 8th instant, after the departure of the post. The first arrangements of my litterary business, and some social meetings will detain me here till the middle or end of next week, after which I shall bury myself at Sheffield-place to revise and correct. The printer mutters some complaints of the distance, but it is not possible at this time of year to confine myself to a sultry and solitary metropolis. Adieu, my dear Madam, let me soon have an account, and a favourable account, of yourself.

I am Ever yours, E. G.

512.

_To Lord Sheffield._

Tuesday, 1787.

Two lines to say that you dine with Mrs. Hanley Thursday, visit Pall Mall between eight and nine in the evening, and dine on Friday with Lord L[oughborough]. Lady L., if agreable, will be glad to see Maria, and to call on her in her carriage. All's well. Adieu. I wish we had My lady with us. I am impatient to see her.

513.

_To his Stepmother._

Sheffield-place, Sept. 23, 1787.

MY DEAR MADAM,

[Sidenote: THE TWO MR. GIBBONS.]

I am extremely happy that by Mrs. Holroyd's kind enquiries in my name, the veil is at length withdrawn, and a mistake is removed which has given us, with an appearance of reason, some mutual anxiety. No one doubtless is less entitled than myself to confound the indolence of the pen with the coldness of the heart, yet I must confess that I was surprized and grieved, that you should not take the smallest notice of the letter in which I had announced my arrival in England. Each post encreased my uneasiness, which was at the same time aggravated and soothed by the assurance from Mrs. H. that illness could not be the cause of your silence, and this day was the last which I had fixed for asking the favour of a line of comfort and explanation. By this you will understand that I have never received your kind answer directed to me in town, and, though the loss of a letter by the post is a rare, and to many, an incredible event, I can explain it in this instance by a singular concurrence of circumstances. Two Hotels which bear the name of the Adelphi stand opposite to each other, and two Mr. Gibbons were lodged at the same time in the adverse houses, as Lord Sheffield perceived on his coming up to find me out. Your direction was applied to my rival, and as he had already departed into the country, his letter must have been sent after him, and he alone is guilty for not acknowledging and rectifying the error.

I have now passed some weeks with our friends Lord and Lady Sheffield, who wish me to express in their name every sentiment of attachment and regard; they both lament the disappointment of their wishes of enjoying your company in this place, and would promise that during your stay, it should not be profaned by any American rebels, or any fashionable females whose conduct may be less calculated to edify than to please. I am here, very idle and very busy. After building a great house, a thousand little alterations, improvements and ornaments present themselves to the architect, and besides the trouble of painting and glazing some of the last apartments, I have the daily duty of receiving, correcting, and returning a printed sheet which is sent me from London. Impatient as I am to visit Bath, I must defer my journey till I am in a great measure got out of my litterary brick and mortar; and if I can postpone it till the beginning of December, Lord Sheffield gives me hopes of his company. The moments I can pass with you will be some of the most pleasing of my life, and it will give me real concern, that I shall find it impossible to prolong my visit as I could wish, much less to fix my winter residence at Bath.

I am, Dear Madam, Most truly yours, E. GIBBON.

514.

_To his Stepmother._

Sheffield-place, Nov. 11th, 1787.

DEAR MADAM,

[Sidenote: HIS VISIT TO MRS. GIBBON.]

Besides my usual dislike to letter-writing for which you so obligingly account, I have had an additional reason or excuse for my silence in the weekly dispatches which are transmitted from hence to Bath, and by which you are frequently apprized of my health and good spirits, the only circumstances which I could transcribe from this peaceful and uniform scene. It is with real pleasure that I see the approaching period of my journey to Bath. I leave this place next Sunday, and as I hope that a fortnight _may_ suffice for some litterary business (consulting books, &c.) which can only be dispatched in town, I reckon with confidence on the satisfaction of embracing you at the Belvidere within a month from the present time. As to my old enemy the gout, it is impossible to answer for his motions, but I have not the slightest grounds to suspect him of any hostile intentions. Lord Sheffield wishes to accompany me in the journey and return, but so many obstacles may impede a man of business, that I must not depend on him with any degree of assurance. Will you be so good as to inform his sister how much I am obliged to her for thinking so often and so kindly of me?

I wish it were in your power to give me a more favourable account of your health, or at least of your strength, for I flatter myself that it is in the latter you are chiefly deficient. I am not without apprehension that the sight of a long-lost friend may exhaust your spirits by too much painful pleasure. Be persuaded, my Dear Madam, that you are the sole object of my journey, that I most sincerely request that you will not contrive any dinners or parties for my amusement, that my time will be most agreably spent in your conversation, and that I could wish to enlarge the number of days which my avocations in life and litterature will allow me to enjoy at Bath. Do not give yourself the trouble of an answer, and expect a line from town, as soon as I can fix the exact time of my departure.

Lord and Lady Sheffield wish me to convey in their names every wish and sentiment of friendship.

I am, Dear Madam, Ever yours, E. G.

515.

_To Lord Sheffield._

Wednesday, Nov. 27.

The assurance that neither giants nor dragons were to be feared between Sheffield Place and Pall Mall had induced me to leave to your fancy or judgment the well-known circumstances of changing horses, alighting from the chaise, surveying the lodging (bad and dear), ordering a fowl from the Cocoa-tree, &c., &c., and I feel every day the awkwardness of the six o'clock post. The first evening I passed at home and had scarcely dined when the Poet Hayley was announced: he embraced, forgave me, and we entered on a pleasant conversation of two hours. I mentioned to him your Christmas plan: he is grateful, but seems to decline it. However I shall see him again, and possibly he may fall in your way.

You would make me vain; nor am I less touched by the growlings of my lady, than by the praises of the Maria, whose probable excursion I applaud. As yet I have chiefly attended to my litterary concerns, and have only seen Crauford, the Lucans, Sir Joshua, &c. I have knocked without success at Lord Loughborough's door, but shall dine with him before the end of the week, perhaps with M. de Calonne,[115] who is a favourite with all parties. Pitt in the _general_ opinion seems to be the Hero of the day, and Lord Lucan, fresh from Paris, says that nothing can equal the conscious shame of the French, except their public abhorrence of the Queen, and their wild resolutions of freedom. Take care of Severy,[116] I had rather he did not go to Lewes: a set of drunken dragoons.

As I may not write again (do not be furious) I can positively say that my departure for Bath is fixed for Saturday sennight, and that I shall expect you, &c., on Thursday at latest. For the possession of your house, I believe the Dutchess would scruple at few sacrifices either pecuniary or _personal_. Could you resist? Do not imitate my negligence in forgetting the herald John G.[117] He will make a great figure at Bath. Adieu.

[115] Charles Alexandre de Calonne (1734-1802) was Director-General of Finances from 1783 to 1787. By his advice the Assembly of Notables was convened on February 22, 1787. He laid before it the financial condition of the kingdom, and proposed, among other measures, a land tax, the taxation of the lands of the clergy, and, generally, the equalization of public burdens. So great was the clamour against him, that in April he resigned and took refuge in England. "I am entertained," writes Lord Sheffield to William Eden, November 2, 1787, "with the reception Calonne meets with in London. Lately he was the most terrible peculator" (_Auckland Correspondence_, vol. i. p. 444). He was succeeded by Cardinal de Brienne, Archbishop of Toulouse, afterwards Archbishop of Sens.

[116] Wilhelm de Severy, the son of Gibbon's friends at Lausanne, had, at his suggestion, paid a visit to England.

[117] John Gibbon, the herald, was Bluemantle Pursuivant at Arms, 1671-1718. He died August 2, 1718.

516.

_To Lord Sheffield._

Monday afternoon, 1787.

[Sidenote: A MISERABLE CRIPPLE.]

*I precipitate! I inconvenience! Alas! alas! I am a poor miserable cripple, confined to my chair. Last Wednesday evening I felt some flying symptoms of the gout: for two succeeding days I struggled bravely, and went in a chair to dine with Batt and Lord Loughborough: but on Saturday I yielded to my conqueror. I have now passed three wearisome days without amusement, and three miserable nights without sleep. Yet my acquaintance are charitable; and as virtue should never be made too difficult, I feel that a man has more friends in Pall Mall than in Bentinck Street. This fit is remarkably painful; the enemy is possessed of the left foot and knee, and how far he may carry the war, God only knows. Of futurity it is impossible to speak; but it will be fortunate if I am able to leave town by the end, not of this, but of the ensuing week. Pity me, magnanimous Baron; pity me, tender females; pity me, Swiss exile,[118] and believe me, it is far better to be learning English at Uckfield. I write with difficulty, as the least motion or constraint in my attitude is repeated by all the nerves and sinews in my knee. But* in the daily papers *you shall find each day a note or bulletin of my health. To-morrow I must give pain to Mrs. G. Adieu.* Caplin's servant has other offers, and grows impatient for a speedy and final answer.

Ever yours, E. G.

[118] M. Wilhelm de Severy.

517.

_To his Stepmother._

Saturday, Nov. 30th, 1787.

DEAR MADAM,

I must reluctantly mention, what I could still wish to conceal: but the month of December approaches, and I may have been already betrayed by the Sheffield gazette. Your suspicions were but too just, and both my feet have been for some days past in the iron fetters of the gout. This obstacle must retard, though it shall not prevent my journey to Bath, and as soon as I am able to travel I shall summon Lord S., who with his daughter Maria is impatient to start. No term can be possibly assigned, but I feel with pleasure that the bitterness of the fit is past or passing, and the gouty tide now appears to ebb; whether its retiring motions will be slow or rapid, fluctuating or regular, I cannot foresee, but I wish you to believe that my pain is not a little aggravated by my disappointment. You will excuse my brevity, as I cannot write in a pleasant attitude, but in the course of next week you shall receive some account of my proceedings, either from me or Caplen. Adieu.

Ever yours, E. G.

518.

_To Lord Sheffield._

Saturday, Dec. 1, 1787.

I resume the pen for a few moments, and with some difficulty, to say that I am not insensible of the complaints, exclamations, projects, &c., of the natives of Sheffield. Your daily missives have been uncomfortable, but when things are at the worst they begin to mend, and I flatter myself that the gouty tide is now ebbing. Last night (with some foreign aid) was the best I have known, and this day my pain is rather less severe. *What may be the future progress, whether slow or rapid, fluctuating or steady, time alone will determine, and to that master of human knowledge I must leave our Bath journey.*--Adieu. Lord Guilford is neither dead nor has been ill.--The D[uchess] of G[ordon] is in treaty for a house in Piccadilly.--The public voice is harmony and applause. Remember me to Severy. Perhaps next week.

I hear this moment from my landlady, Mrs. Crauford, the Gordon milliner, that the Dutchess has absolutely taken the house, and is removing without delay from Downing Street. Huzza.

519.

_To Lord Sheffield._

Saturday, 8th December.

[Sidenote: DISARRANGEMENT OF HIS PLANS.]

I thought we might have safely depended on Caplin's _daily_ diligence, but you could fairly conclude from his silence that we advance with a fair wind. The venom of the Gouty humour is almost dispelled, and I am going on to reduce the size and recover the strength of my feet. Mama cannot be more impatient than myself for the signal of weighing anchor: this unlucky check has disarranged all my social and litterary projects: in a lodging I am destitute of a thousand comforts: my books are few, my society precarious, my days long and often tedious, nor is any thing less pleasant than to be left solitary and motionless while the world is flying round and round me. In point of kind, civil, assiduous attendance of male and female friends Lausanne had quite spoilt me.

In the course or chain of my winter designs, I most ardently wish to hasten the Bath journey, that I may urge our family settlement in Downing street, for I have felt by experience the difference between town and country with regard to the press. But wishes are not hopes, nor are hopes equivalent to assurances. Yet I think (should no reverse of fortune take place) that I can promise to ascend my post-chaise painfully enough either Friday or Saturday next, the 14th or 15th instant, and therefore, if you hear nothing to the contrary, your Lordship _cum mamma amabili_ may find yourself in town the Wednesday or Thursday, and we will contrive, if I am strong enough, some dinner with Lord L., Batt, or elsewhere. I am much obliged to Severy for his letter and Lausanne news. I hope he is somewhat less miserable. Adieu, I am tired. Salutations to My lady, &c. Do you know anything more of the house?

520.

_To his Stepmother._

Dec. 10th, 1787.

DEAR MADAM,

I have the pleasure of informing you, that according to our last arrangements Lord S. comes to town next Thursday with Maria: that on Saturday we set out for Bath, and that on Sunday, about four or five o'clock, I hope to have the pleasure of visiting the Belvidere. This gouty impediment has been most unseasonable and disarranges the whole chain of my projects: but you may rest assured that I am not rash or precipitate: the disorder is leaving me in the most gentle and regular manner; the easy journey must do me good and cannot do me any possible harm, and I shall have the benefit of the adroit and faithful services of Caplen, who accompanies me. It is only unlucky that my old lodgings should be taken; but your prime minister will provide me with others as near as possible to the sole object of my journey.

I am, Dear Madam, Ever yours, E. G.

Depend on my taking the utmost care of myself.

521.

_To Lady Sheffield._

Bath, December 18th, 1787.

*Alas! alas! alas! How vain and fallacious are all the designs of man. This is now the 18th of December, precisely one month since my departure from Sheffield-place; and it was firmly my wish, my hope, my resolution, that after dispatching some needful business in London, and accomplishing a pious duty at Bath, I should by this day be restored to the tranquil leisure, and friendly society, of S. P. A cruel tyrant has disconcerted all my plans; my business in town has been neglected, my attendance at Bath is just begun, and my return is yet distant. I was not a little edified to hear of some expressions of regret and discontent on my departure; and though I am not able to produce as good evidence, you will perhaps believe that in the solitude of a London lodging I often railed at the gout for maliciously delaying his attack till I was removed from a place where my sufferings would have been alleviated by every kind and comfortable attention. I grew at last so desperately impatient, as to resolve on immediate flight, without waiting till I had totally expelled the foe, and recovered my strength. I performed the journey with tolerable ease, but the motion has agitated the remains of the humour. I am very lame, and a second fit may possibly be the punishment of my rashness.

[Sidenote: AN ACT OF DUTY AT BATH.]

As yet I have seen nothing of Bath except Mrs. G.; and weakness, as well as propriety, will confine me very closely to her.* I am carried over the way in a chair about one o'clock, maintain a conversation till ten o'clock in the evening, and am then reconveyed to my lodging. *Lord S., with Mrs. Holroyd and Maria, dined with us yesterday* on the haunch of venison, but such reliefs are not always to be expected, and I chearfully perform an act of duty which is necessary and cannot be long. I am astonished to see Mrs. Gibbon so well, and though undoubtedly weaker, she seems in the last five years to be very little altered either in mind or person. *We begin to throw out hints of the shortness of our stay, and indispensable business; and, unless I should be confined by the gout, it is resolved in our cabinet to leave Bath on Thursday the 26th, and passing through Lord Loughborough's and town, to settle at Sheffield, most assuredly, before the end of the year.* Maria, to whom every object is new and pleasant, and who begins to undraw the curtain of the great theatre, wonders and almost murmurs at our impatience. *For my own part I can say with truth, that did not the press loudly demand my presence, I could, without a sigh, allow the Dutchess to reign in Downing Street the greatest part of the winter, and should be happy in the society of two persons (no common blessing) whom I love, and by whom I am beloved.* I understand with pleasure and gratitude that with the assistance of two Ushers (Miss Firth and Mrs. Moss) you have undertaken the care of Severy's English studies, from whence I expect a most rapid progress. I know not whether yours in Trisset will be equal. Pray inform our pupil, that I shall write from hence to his parents, that I am much obliged to him for his letter, which I hope to answer in a fortnight at Sheffield-place.

*Adieu, Dear Madam, and believe me, with the affection of a friend and brother, ever Yours.*

522.

_To Lady Sheffield._

Bath, January 4th, 1788.

I congratulate you and myself on what I now consider as certain, the evacuation of Downing Street. Col. Fullarton, a cousin of the Dutchess, informed me yesterday, that after sending her children I know not where, perhaps to the parish, she had indignantly fled into the country. By this day's post I expect an official confirmation from Lord S., and as he will probably reach you as soon as this letter, the communication will inform him of my intended motions. You will admire the triumphant Maria, and your observation will soon discern whether it will be easy to brush the powder out of her hair, and the world out of her heart, or to shut her eyes after they have been once opened to the light of pleasure. This excursion will render our scheme still more necessary, and in my letter from hence I sound Madame de S. on the subject: the more I revolve it, I think the exchange will be pleasant and beneficial to my English and Swiss friends, whose mutual advantage I shall have the advantage of promoting. You have already understood that my precipitation in leaving London has been justly punished by a second and worse fit of the gout and a fortnight's confinement.

I now begin to crawl again on two crutches, and my first sally in a chair will be to return the charitable visits of the Dutchess and her friend the Ætherial of poor Lord North, &c. Were I capable of listening to experience or common sense, I should remain here a week or ten days longer; but I am so impatient to leave this place and to reach London and S. P. that I mean to escape next Monday: Tuesday afternoon and all Wednesday will be the least that my litterary business in town will require, and I have hopes of dining at S. P. on Thursday the 10th instant, after an absence twice as long and ten times as disagreeable as I expected. As I now run, not from you, but to you, you will view my rashness with indulgence, and nurse my infirmities with compassion.--Excuse me to Severy for not answering his two letters, and let him be in readiness to receive me. Adieu.

Ever yours, E. G.

523.

_To his Stepmother._

Tuesday, the 14th January, about 1788.

Andover five o'Clock in the afternoon.--Safe, well, and hungry. Not a single Lyon or Giant to be seen on Salisbury plain.--Very odd!

524.

_To Lady Sheffield._

Bentinck Street, Thursday, Feb. 24th.

The Gibbon with his friend Nic (a very proper companion) still proposes to visit Sheffield Place, on Saturday next the 26th instant, but as he travels slowly and prudently with his own horses, they dine at Godstone and cannot reach the mansions of bliss before the dusk of evening. The Gibbon presume that the most amiable Lara means to allow _him_ some extraordinary days.

525.

_To his Stepmother._

Downing Street, March 1st, 1788.

MY DEAR MADAM,

[Sidenote: HIS WORK AND FRIENDS.]

As long as it was necessary that you should be informed of my motions and those of the gout, my letters succeeded each other with sufficient rapidity. The establishment of my health and strength has allowed me, from these unnatural efforts, to sink into my usual indolence, but I now begin to feel that my silence has lasted too long, and that you may entertain some doubts of my present state, unless I assure you by a line that it still continues easy and prosperous. I use with moderation the society of this great town, and although I do not lead a solitary life, yet my principal attention is bestowed on my domestic friends, and on the progress of my work, which is drawing fast to a conclusion. My own brevity will encourage you not to fatigue yourself by a long letter, but I wish to hear directly from _you_ and about _yourself_, the object most truly interesting to your filial friend.

I am, Dear Madam, Ever yours, E. GIBBON.

526.

_To his Stepmother._

Downing Street, May 28th, 1788.

DEAR MADAM,

Both as an author and as a friend I am delighted with your kind approbation: and I enjoy the pleasing assurance that the perusal of my history[119] may sometimes beguile a solitary hour, and recall the historian still more forcibly to your mind. For my own