part I hang in suspense, but if the money could be easily found I

rather incline to the _property_ as simple and beneficial.

I am ignorant of your picture: mine shall depart by the first proper occasion: but should not some precautions be taken with regard to duties? the importation of foreign pictures is heavily taxed, but a work of Sir Joshua's may surely return home.

*The Severys are all well; an uncommon circumstance for the four persons of the family at once. They are now at Mex (pronounce May), a country-house six miles from hence, which I visit to-morrow for two or three days: they often come to town, and we shall contrive to pass a part of the Autumn together at Rolle. I want to change the scene; and beautiful as the garden and prospect must appear to every eye, I feel that the state of my own mind casts a gloom over them; every spot, every walk, every bench, recalls the memory of those hours, of those conversations, which will return no more. But I tear myself from the subject. I could not help writing to-day, though I do not find I have said any thing very material. As you must be conscious that you have agitated me, you will not postpone any agreeable, or even _decisive_ intelligence. I almost hesitate, whether I shall not run over to England, to consult with you on the spot, and to fly from poor Deyverdun's shade, which meets me at every turn. I did not expect to have felt it so sharply. But six hundred miles! why are we so far off?

Once more, what is the difficulty of the title? Will men of sense, in a sensible Country, never get rid of the tyranny of lawyers? more oppressive and ridiculous than even the old yoke of the Clergy. Is not a term of seventy or eighty years, near twenty in my own person, sufficient to prove our legal possession? Will not the record of fines and recoveries attest that _I_ am free from any bar of entails and settlements? Consult some Sage of the Law, whether their present demand be necessary and legal. If our ground be firm, force them to execute the agreement or forfeit the deposit. But if, as I much fear, they have a right, and a wish, to elude the consummation, would it not be better to release them at once, than to be hung up five years, as in the case of Lovegrove, which cost me in the end four or five thousand pounds? You are bold, you are wise; consult, resolve, act.

In my penultimate letter I dropped a strange hint, that a migration homeward was not impossible. I know not what to say; my mind is all afloat; yet you will not reproach me with caprice or inconstancy. How many years did you damn my scheme of retiring to Lausanne! I executed that plan; I found as much happiness as is compatible with human nature, and during four years (1783-1787) I never breathed a sigh of repentance. On my return from England the scene was changed: I found only a faint semblance of Deyverdun, and that semblance was each day fading from my sight. I have passed an anxious year, but my anxiety is now at an end, and the prospect before me is a melancholy solitude. I am still deeply rooted in this country; the possession of this paradise, the friendship of the Severys, a mode of society suited to my taste, and the enormous trouble and _expence_ of a migration. Yet in England (when the present clouds are dispelled) I could form a very comfortable establishment in London, or rather at Bath; and I have a very noble country-seat about ten miles from East Grinstead in Sussex.[136] That spot is dearer to me than the rest of the three kingdoms; and I have sometimes wondered how two men, so opposite in their tempers and pursuits, should have imbibed so long and lively a propensity for each other.

[Sidenote: IDEA OF ADOPTING CHARLOTTE PORTEN.]

Sir Stanier Porten[137] is just dead. He has left his widow with a small pension, and two children, my nearest relations: the eldest, Charlotte, is about Louisa's age, and one of the most amiable, sensible young creatures I ever saw. I have conceived a romantic idea of educating and adopting her; as we descend into the vale of years, our infirmities require some domestic female society: Charlotte would be the comfort of my age, and I could reward her care and tenderness with a decent fortune. A thousand difficulties oppose the execution of this plan, which I have never opened but to you; yet it would be less impracticable in England than in Switzerland. Adieu. I am wounded, pour some oil into my wounds: Yet I am less unhappy since I have thrown my mind upon paper. Adieu, ever yours.*

[136] Alluding to Sheffield Place.

[137] Sir S. Porten died June 7, 1789.

546.

_To Lord Sheffield._

Lausanne, Sept. 9, 1789.

*Within an hour after the reception of your last, I drew my pen for the purpose of a reply, and my exordium ran in the following words: "I find by experience, that it is much more rational, as well as easy, to answer a letter of real business by the return of the post." This important truth is again verified by my own example. After writing three pages I was called away by a very rational motive, and the post departed before I could return to the conclusion. A second delay was coloured by some decent pretence: three weeks have slipped away, and I now force myself on a task, which I should have dispatched without an effort on the first summons. My only excuse is, that I had little to write about English business, and that I could write nothing definitive about my Swiss affairs. And first, as Aristotle says, of the first,

1. I was indeed in low spirits when I sent what you so justly style my dismal letter; but I do assure you, that my own feelings contributed much more to sink me, than any events or terrors relative to the sale of Buriton. But I again hope and trust, from your consolatory epistle, that* the purchasers are willing and honest, that the deeds have been produced or excused, and that on or before the reception of this despatch (alas, it will be the 23rd perhaps of September) the money has been paid. In all this I must be passive, but with regard to Mrs. Gibbon's, before it is again vested, I am sure she will be satisfied with your security, as mine on the stock which I already hold would require new powers of Attorney, and must be productive of fresh delay. But it is a whimsical circumstance in my fate, that I happen to receive the largest sum which can ever fall to my lot at the time, when money is the most plenty and consequently bears the lowest value, when good mortgages are so difficult to be found, and when the funds scarcely yield four per cent. interest. I wish Lord Stawell would take the £8000 on Buriton even at four per cent., perhaps his proud stomach may be come down. Should he still disdain it, I listen with pleasure and gratitude to the proposal of your Yorkshire mortgage on the same terms, though in general it is more advisable for friends to abstain from any pecuniary concerns with each other. If you no longer adhere to that idea, some sound good mortgage, if possible in a register county, must be found, and I would even stretch the loan to £10,000, in which case my property would be nearly divided between landed and monied security without reckoning my copper share or my poor annuity in the French funds. In the meanwhile, that the portion destined to the mortgage may not lye dead, I suppose with you that there is nothing more commodious than India-bonds. Will you consult Darrel?

[Sidenote: LIFE-INTEREST IN DEYVERDUN'S HOUSE.]

*2. My Swiss transaction has suffered a great alteration. I shall not become the proprietor of my house and garden at Lausanne, and I relinquish the fantom with more regret than you could easily imagine. But I have been determined by a difficulty, which at first appeared of little moment, but which has gradually swelled to an alarming magnitude. There is a law in this country, as well as in some provinces of France, which is styled "_le droit de retrait, le retrait lignager_" (Lord Loughborough must have heard of it), by which the relations of the deceased are entitled to redeem an house or estate at the price for which it has been sold; and as the sum fixed by poor Deyverdun is much below its known value, a crowd of competitors are beginning to start. The best opinions (for they are divided) are in my favour, that I am not subject to "_the droit de retrait_," since I take not as a purchaser, but as a legatee. But the words of the Will are somewhat ambiguous, the event of law is always uncertain, the administration of justice at Berne (the last appeal) depends too much on favour and intrigue; and it is very doubtful whether I could revert to the life-holding, after having chosen and lost the property. These considerations engaged me to open a negotiation with Mr. de Montagny, through the medium of my friend the Judge; and as he most ardently wishes to keep the house, he consented, though with some reluctance, to my proposals. Yesterday he signed a covenant in the most regular and binding form, by which he allows my power of transferring my interest, interprets in the most ample sense my right of making alterations, and expressly renounces all claim, as landlord, of visiting or inspecting the premisses. I have promised to lend him 12,000 Livres, (between seven and eight hundred pounds), secured on the house and land. The mortgage is four times its value; the interest at four per cent. will be annually discharged by the rent of thirty guineas, and I shall have an additional hold on his good behaviour. So that I am now tranquil on that score for the remainder of my days. I hope that time will gradually reconcile me to the place which I have inhabited with my poor friend; for in spite of the _cream_ of London, I am still persuaded that no other residence is so well adapted to my taste and habits of studious and social life.

Far from delighting in the whirl of a Metropolis, my only complaint against Lausanne is the great number of strangers, always of English, and now of French, by whom we are infested in summer. Yet we have escaped the _damned_ great ones, the Count d'Artois,[138] the Polignacs,[139] &c. who slip by us to Turin. What a scene is France! While the assembly is voting abstract propositions, Paris is an independent Republic; the provinces have neither authority nor freedom, and poor Necker[140] declares that credit is no more, and that the people refuse to pay taxes. Yet I think you must be seduced by the abolition of tythes. If Eden goes to Paris you may have some curious _confidential_ information. Give me some account of Mr. and Mrs. Douglas; do they live with Lord North? I hope they do. When will parliament be dissolved? Are you still Coventry mad? I embrace My Lady, the stately Maria, and the smiling Louisa. Alas! Alas! you will never come to Switzerland. Adieu, ever yours.*

[138] The Comte d'Artois (1757-1836), brother of Louis XVI., and afterwards Charles X., was one of the earliest _émigrés_.

[139] Yolande Martine Gabrielle de Polastron, Duchesse de Polignac (1749-1793), was the most intimate friend of Marie Antoinette. To her and her royal mistress public opinion attributed many of the worst evils of the monarchy. When the daughter of the duchess married the Duc de Guiche (afterwards Duc de Grammont), the king gave the bride a dower of 800,000 _livres_. "Mille écus," said Mirabeau, "à la famille d'Assas pour avoir sauvé l'État, un million à la famille de Polignac pour l'avoir perdu." (The Chevalier d'Assas lost his life in an heroic action at Klostercamp, October 15-16, 1760. The Government of Louis XV. allowed him to go unrewarded. Louis XVI., at the instigation of Marie Antoinette, conferred on his family a perpetual pension of 1000 _livres_.) The duchess emigrated with her husband shortly after the taking of the Bastille. She died at Vienna in December, 1793, her death being, it is said, hastened by the murder of Marie Antoinette. Her second son, afterwards Prince de Polignac, was the favourite minister of Charles X.

[140] Necker was dismissed July 11, 1789, and ordered to quit the kingdom.

547.

_To Lord Sheffield._

Lausanne, Sept. 25th, 1789.

*Alas! what perils do environ The man who meddles with cold iron.

Alas! what delays and difficulties do attend the man who meddles with legal and landed business! yet if it be only to disappoint your expectation, I am not so very nervous at this new provoking obstacle. I had totally forgotten the deed in question, which was contrived by the two trustees to tye his hands and regulate the disorder of his affairs (in the last year of my father's life); and which might have been so easily cancelled by Sir Stanier, who had not the smallest interest in it, either for himself or his family. The amicable suit which is now become necessary must, I think, be short and unambiguous, yet I cannot help dreading the crotchets that lurk under the Chancellor's great wig; and, at all events, I foresee some additional delay and expence. The golden pill of the £2800 has soothed my discontent; and if it be safely lodged with the Goslings, I agree with you in considering it as an unequivocal pledge of a fair and willing purchaser. It is, indeed, chiefly in that light that I now rejoyce in so large a deposit, which is no longer necessary in its full extent. You are apprized by my last letter that I have reduced myself to the life enjoyment of the house and garden, and, in spite of my feelings, I am every day more convinced that I have chosen the safer side. I believe my cause to have been good, but it was doubtful: law in this country is not so expensive as in England, but it is more troublesome. I must have gone to Bern, have solicited my Judges in person--a vile custom! the event was doubtful, and during at least two years, I should have been in a state of suspense and anxiety: till the conclusion of which it would have been madness to have attempted any alteration or improvement.

According to my present arrangement I shall want no more than eleven hundred pounds of the £2000, and I suppose you will direct Gosling to lay out the remainder in East India bonds, that it may not lye quite dead, while I am accountable to Sainsbury for the interest.* I presume that I am entitled till the consummation to the rents of Buriton: a little drop of honey is collected from Lady-day to Michaelmas, and Andrews is I hope instructed to squeeze the bag without delay or mercy: the Tenant deserves none.

[Sidenote: THE AUTHORITY OF BLACKSTONE.]

*The elderly Lady in a male habit, who informed me that Yorkshire is a register County, is a certain Judge, one Sir William Blackstone, whose name you may possibly have heard. After stating the danger of purchasers and creditors, with regard to the title of estates on which they lay out or lend their money, he thus continues: "In Scotland every act and event regarding the transmission of property is regularly entered on record; And some of our own provincial divisions, particularly the _extended county of York_ and the populous county of Middlesex, have prevailed with the Legislature to erect such registers in their respective districts." (Blackstone's Commentaries, Vol. ii. p. 343, Edition of 1774, in quarto.) If I am mistaken, it is in pretty good company; but I suspect that we are all right, and that the register is confined to one or two Ridings. As we have, alas! two or three months before us, I should hope that your prudent sagacity will discover some sound land, in case you should not have time to arrange your own Mortgage.

I now write in a hurry, as I am just setting out for Rolle, where I shall be settled with cook and servants in a pleasant apartment till the middle of November. The Severys have a house there, where they pass the Autumn. I am not sorry to vary the scene for a few weeks, and I wish to be absent while some alterations are making in my house at Lausanne. I wish the change of air may be of service to Severy the father, but we do not at all like his present state of health. How compleatly, alas, how compleatly! could I now lodge you: but your firm resolve of making me a visit seems to have vanished like a dream. Next summer you will not find five hundred pounds for a rational friendly expedition: and should parliament be dissolved, you will perhaps find five thousand for ****. I cannot think of it with patience. Pray take serious strenuous measures for sending me a pipe of excellent Madeira in cask, with some dozens of Malmsey Madeira. It should be consigned to Messrs. Romberg, Voituriers, at Ostend, and I must have timely notice of its march. We have so much to say about France, that I suppose we shall never say anything. That country is now in a state of _dissolution_. Adieu.*

548.

_To his Stepmother._

Lausanne, December 5th, 1789.

MY DEAR MADAM,

I need not repeat what we have both so often felt and acknowledged, that between us silence is never the effect of coldness or forgetfulness, yet when I recollect that your second letter is still unanswered, a conscious blush rises to my cheek. Our mutual friendship we have no occasion to express, of our health and situation we may have frequent accounts by the channel of Lord Sheffield and Mrs. Holroyd; mere topics of Epistolary conversation do not readily occur between distant friends, but you ask me some questions of an interesting nature and your kind curiosity it is incumbent on me to satisfy.

The disposal of Buriton I think you cannot disapprove. A distant landed estate is the worst kind of property, and you will not be surprized to hear that after the payment of every expence and every deduction, the remainder of the clear income was little more than sufficient for the annual supply, which I hope will be long, very long, offered to the Belvidere at Bath. The neglect, I will not give it an harsher name, of Hugonin cost me last year above seven hundred pounds; yet after his death, where could I have found a more creditable agent? At sixteen thousand pounds Lord Sheffield does not think Buriton ill sold, especially as four or five thousand more must be added which I had already received from the sale of Horn and Harris's farms. Some forms of law have delayed the final conclusion, but I expect to hear every post of the payment of the money, and you will rejoyce to hear, what I assure on my honour is true, that every shilling is my own, and that prudence, without any pressure of distress or debt, is the sole motive of my conduct. The entire sum I mean to divide between the stocks and a good mortgage, that at all events I may have a sound leg to stand upon. I hope you are satisfied with the arrangement of your jointure: Lord Sheffield cannot forget the burthen of every one of my letters, "Unless Mrs. G. be safe and easy, I cannot be so."

[Sidenote: IRREPARABLE LOSS OF A FRIEND.]

When I had the pleasure of seeing you at Bath two years ago, you may remember the melancholy account which I gave you of poor Deyverdun. On my return to Lausanne I found him much altered for the worse; he was attacked by a succession of Apoplectic fits, and after a general decay, he died last July, when his life could be no longer desirable for himself or his friends. The loss of a friend of five and thirty years is irreparable, and each day I feel the comfortless solitude to which I am reduced. By his will he designed that I should possess the delightful house and garden which I inhabit: and which have not, I believe, their equal in Europe; by a subsequent arrangement with his heir, in which both find their advantage, I have secured the free and indisputable enjoyment for my life, and have already made some agreable and useful alterations. I still like the people and the country, and here I shall probably spend the latter season of life, with the resolution however of visiting England every three or four years. I have often regretted that your imperfect knowledge of the French language never allowed me to seduce you to this place. I am sure you would have pleased and been pleased in the circle of my familiar acquaintance.

My health was never so good as it is at present, and since my unseasonable attack at Bath I have not felt the slightest return of the gout. You may possibly hear that Mr. Gibbon has undertaken some new history; be persuaded, if I know his intentions, that after six weighty quartos, he now reads and writes for his own amusement, though I will not answer for what those amusements may one day produce. You may likewise hear of tumults and rebellions in Switzerland. Be persuaded, that the popular madness of France and Flanders has not reached these tranquil regions, and that the Swiss have sense enough to feel and maintain their own happiness, which is endeared to them by the disorders of the neighbouring countries.

Adieu, Dear Madam; I grieve for you and for myself that we are now entering into the cold and dreary season, but I sincerely hope that you will find strength and spirits to lay this and many other winters at your feet.

Ever yours, E. G.

549.

_To Lord Sheffield._

Lausanne, December 15th, 1789.

*You have often reason to accuse my strange silence and neglect in the most important of _my own_ affairs; for I will presume to assert, that in a business of yours of equal consequence, you should not find me cold or careless. But on the present occasion my silence is, perhaps, the highest compliment I ever paid you. You remember the answer of Philip of Macedon: "Philip may sleep, while he knows that Parmenio is awake." I expected, and, to say the truth, I wished that my Parmenio would have decided and acted, without expecting my dilatory answer, and in his decision I should have acquiesced with implicit confidence. But since you will have my opinion, let us consider the present state of my affairs. In the course of my life I have often known, and sometimes felt, the difficulty of getting money, but I now find myself involved in a much more singular distress, the difficulty of placing it, and if it continues much longer, I shall almost wish for my land again.

I perfectly agree with you, that it is bad management to purchase in the funds when they do not yield four per cent.,* and I incline every day more and more to the encrease of the mortgage. I am much mistaken if in my last letter I did not extend the sum as £10,000 pounds, which would make, as I remember to have said, about an equal partition of my property. Can that sum be called, even in your wealthy island, so very inconsiderable? I would even give somewhat larger latitude (even as far as £12,000 if I preserve a right of calling in a fourth or a moiety on reasonable notice). Is it possible that in seven or eight months no good and clear security can be found, especially if I am forced to be content with the scanty interest of four per cent.? Yet I approve your diffidence and caution: in the concerns of our friends even cowardice is a virtue. The doubtful title of a mortgage might distress and perplex me for the remainder of my life, and you would not easily forgive yourself for having been the innocent author of my calamities. Rather than expose myself to such a risk, I would try whether some _great_ banker would not be disposed to give low interest and firm security for my money till it should be called for, or at all events I would deposit it in the Bank for six months or a year, and live on the principal till you could find an unquestionable opportunity of placing it on landed property. *Some of this money I can place safely and advantageously by means of my banker here; and I shall possess, what I have always desired, a command of cash, which I cannot abuse to my prejudice, since I have it in my power to supply by my pen any extraordinary or fanciful indulgence of expence. And so much--much, indeed--for pecuniary matters.

[Sidenote: GLORIOUS OPPORTUNITY OF FRANCE.]

What would you have me say of the affairs of France? we are too near, and too remote, to form an accurate judgment of that wonderful scene. The abuses of the court and government called aloud for reformation; and it has happened, as it will always happen, that an innocent, well-disposed prince has paid the forfeits of the sins of his predecessors; of the ambition of the Lewis XIV., of the profusion of Lewis XV. The French nation had a glorious opportunity, but they have abused, and may lose their advantages. If they had been content with a liberal translation of our system, if they had respected the prerogatives of the crown, and the privileges of the Nobles, they might have raised a solid fabric, on the only true foundation, the natural Aristocracy of a great Country. How different is the prospect! Their King brought a captive to Paris, after his palace had been stained with the blood of his guards; the Nobles in exile; the Clergy plundered in a way which strikes at the root of all property; the capital an independent Republic; the union of the provinces dissolved; the flames of discord kindled by the worst of men; (in that light I consider Mirabeau;) and the honestest of the Assembly a set of wild Visionaries, (like our Dr. Price,[141]) who gravely debate, and dream about the establishment of a pure and perfect democracy of five-and-twenty millions, the virtues of the golden age, and the primitive rights and equality of mankind, which would lead, in fair reasoning, to an equal partition of lands and money. How many years must elapse before France can recover any vigour, or resume her station among the powers of Europe! As yet, there is no symptom of a great man, a Richelieu or a Cromwell, arising, either to restore the Monarchy, or to lead the Commonwealth. The weight of Paris, more deeply engaged in the funds than _all_ the rest of the Kingdom, will long delay a bankrupcy; and if it should happen, it will be, both in the cause and effect, a measure of weakness, rather than of strength.

[Sidenote: FRENCH EXILES AT LAUSANNE.]

You send me to Chamberry, to see a prince and an Archbishop. Alas! we have exiles enough here, with the Marshal de Castries[142] and the Duke de Guignes[143] at their head: and this inundation of strangers, which used to be confined to the summer, will now stagnate all the winter. The only ones whom I have seen with pleasure are M. Mounier,[144] the late president of the National Assembly, and the Count de Lally;[145] they have both dined with me. Mounier, who is a serious dry politician, is returned to Dauphiné. Lally is an amiable man of the World, and a poet: he passes the winter here with his _female friend_ the Princess d'Hénin.[146] You know how much I prefer a quiet select society to a crowd of names and titles, and that I always seek conversation with a view to amusement rather than information. What happy countries are England and Switzerland, if they know and preserve their happiness.

I have a thousand things to say of My Lady, Maria, and Louisa, but I can add only a short postscript about the Madeira and picture.

1. Good Madeira is now become essential to my health and reputation. May your hogshead prove as good as the last; may it not be intercepted by the rebels or the Austrians. What a scene again in that country! Happy England! happy Switzerland!* I again repeat I must have early notice of my wine's approach, that I may send a permit to meet it at Basil.

2. To whom did you entrust the picture[147] and Rennel's[148] maps? I have not heard of either. Was it to Elmsley? I have expected these many months a box of books, &c., which he announced. Will you not clear up the point? My picture expects a safe occasion. Adieu.

[141] Richard Price, D.D. (1723-1791), the celebrated mathematician and economic writer (_Observations on Reversionary Payments, Annuities_, etc., 1769; _Appeal on the Subject of the National Debt_, 1772), the opponent of Dr. Priestley (_A Free Discussion of the Doctrine of Materialism and Philosophical Necessity_, 1778), was also a voluminous political writer, a champion of the cause of American Independence, and an advocate of principles then regarded as revolutionary. His _Observations on the Nature of Civil Liberty_ (1776) procured him an invitation from Congress to come and reside in America. In 1789 he published his _Discourse on the Love of our Country_, severely criticized by Burke in his _Reflections on the Revolution in France_. His last work, _Britain's Happiness_, was published in 1791, the year of his death.

[142] The Marquis de Castries (1727-1801), Marshal of France (1783), had served in the Seven Years' War, was Ministre de la Marine 1780-87, and in 1792 held a command in the Prussian army of invasion. He died at Wolfenbuttel in 1801.

[143] Adrien Louis de Bonnières, Comte, afterwards Duc, de Guines (1735-1806), had been ambassador in England, 1770-76. As ambassador at Berlin he had been a favourite with Frederick the Great, with whom he played the flute. He emigrated at the beginning of the Revolution.

[144] J. Joseph Mounier (1758-1806), the author of _Considérations sur le gouvernement qui convient à la France_ (1789), was a prominent champion of constitutional liberty in the States-General and the National Assembly. He emigrated at the end of 1789.

[145] Gérard, Marquis de Lally-Tollendal (1751-1830), the son of the unfortunate governor of the French possessions in India, emigrated after the events of October 5-6, 1789. Returning to France in 1792, he was arrested after August 10, and imprisoned in the Abbaye; he escaped and took refuge in England.

[146] Étiennette de Montconseil, daughter of the Marquis de Montconseil, married, in 1766, Charles Alexandre Marc Marcellin d'Alsace-Hénin-Liétard, Prince d'Hénin, brother of the Prince de Chimay and Madame de Cambis, and nephew of the Maréchale de Mirepoix and the Prince de Beauvau. The princess was appointed in 1778 _dame du palais_ in the household of Marie Antoinette. Her intimate relations with Lally-Tollendal were well known. Madame D'Arblay, who knew her well, says of her, twenty years later, that "Lally was her admiring and truly devoted friend, and by many believed to be privately married to her. I am myself of that opinion" (_Diary and Letters_, vii. 89). The Prince d'Hénin was captain of the body-guard of the Comte d'Artois. He played a conspicuous part in the _chronique scandaleuse_ of the day. His affection for Sophie Arnould gave rise to the following verses of the Marquis de Louvois:--

"Chez la doyenne des catins Ta place est des plus minces. Tu n'es plus le prince d'Hénin, Mais bien le nain des princes."

[147] Probably Lord Sheffield's portrait, painted by Sir Joshua Reynolds in March, 1788.

[148] Major James Rennell (1742-1832) had already published his Maps of Bengal and of the Mogul Empire. His geographical work on Africa and map appeared in 1790.

550.

_To Lord Sheffield._

Lausanne, January 27th, 1790.

*Your two last epistles, of the 7th and 11th instant, were somewhat delayed on the road; they arrived within two days of each other, the last this morning, (the 27th); so that I answer by the first, or at least by the second post. Upon the whole, your French method, though sometimes more rapid, appears to me less sure and steady than the old German highway.*

I will not deny (for it was probably too visible) that your proposal, which arose from the kindest motives, of your Yorkshire mortgage embarrassed me from the beginning, and whatever faint signs of acquiescence I may have given, they proceeded from the apprehension of wounding your honourable feelings by anything that might bear the appearance of doubt and distrust. I could not reconcile the two characters of debtor and friend, and I was shocked by the idea, however distant or unlikely, that in a serious concern our interests might possibly become opposite to each other. Your first letter relieved me from that weight, and I viewed with much less horror the chance of leaving the purchase money for some time idle and unproductive in the bank: yet I could not entirely subscribe to your charge that I had changed my _principles_. Eight thousand pounds had been always designed for the mortgage: you object (to my great surprize) that good landed security cannot easily be found for so _small_ a sum; I agree to enlarge it; where is the change or contradiction? I confess however that the very high price of the Stocks has rendered me less eager for an investment which at present will not even produce the four per cent., and which rather affords the danger of a fall than the hopes of a rise. You are likewise inaccurate when you accuse me of having already drawn near £2000 of the purchase money.

But enough of these altercations. *A new and brighter prospect seems to be breaking upon us, and few events of _that kind_ have ever given me more pleasure than your successful negotiation and Sainsbury's satisfactory answer. The agreement is, indeed, equally convenient for both parties: no time or expence will be wasted in scrutinizing the title of the estate; the interest will be secured by the clause of five per cent., and I lament with you, that no larger sum than £8000 can be placed on Beriton, without asking (what might be somewhat impudent) a collateral security, &c., &c.* As I do not mean to entrap them, the allowance of a month is perfectly right and in truth immaterial. As the purchase money is by this arrangement very much reduced, they will now pay it, I suppose, whenever you please, and perhaps (you will judge) it may be as well to consummate on Lady Day, that I may be entitled to another half year's rent from the Tenant. The power of calling in the Mortgage, I only meant as a superfluous precaution, but I suppose there will be some restraint on their paying it off whenever they please, perhaps at a time inconvenient to the creditor. After Lord Stawell has paid or secured £10,800 there will still remain (subject to I know not what charges) £5200. While the stocks are so very high as not to yield four per cent., might it not be expedient to trust it in two or three loans in good personal bond security at four and a half? Would not the Goslings for the consideration of the half per cent. bind themselves to answer for the interest and principal. In their business they have always a command of money, and if the security be such as I ought to accept, the risk for themselves must be very inconsiderable. *But I wish you to chuse and execute one or the other of these arrangements with sage discretion and absolute power.

[Sidenote: DIRTY LAND AND VILE MONEY.]

I shorten my letter, that I may dispatch it by this post. I see the time, and I shall rejoyce to see it at the end of twenty years, when my cares will be at an end, and our friendly pages will be no longer sullied with the repetition of dirty land and vile money; when we may expatiate on the politics of the World and our personal sentiments. Without expecting your answer of business, I mean to write soon in a purer style, and I wish to lay open to my friend the state of my mind, which (exclusive of all worldly concerns) is not perfectly at ease. In the mean while, I must add two or three short articles. 1. I am astonished at Elmsly's silence, and the immobility of your picture. Mine should have departed long since, could I have found a sure opportunity.* It had almost started last week had I not been afraid of rolling it, but I think that a person on whom we may depend will undertake the journey and commission about the middle of next month. 2. I shall expect the Madeira with impatience if it is remarkable. I have not any objection to the _two_ hogsheads, but perhaps one may suffice, as I have a promise from Sir Ralph Payne, with whom you may confabulate on the subject if you excurse to London. 3. Give me some account of the two old Ladies. I no longer write to Cliffe, as I suppose her (perhaps erroneously) incapable of correspondence. I embrace My Lady, &c. When shall I see them at Lausanne or Sheffield Place? the one must take place if the other does not. Adieu.

Yours, E. G.

P.S.--If you met with another neat, safe, little mortgage of £2000 I have no objection. Since I have again opened my letter, I will ask you how the property of an Ecclesiastical differs from that of a lay Corporation, and whether you think Parliament could legally seize and appropriate the lands of the City of London. If either Corporation was mischievous, Government might indeed extinguish it in time, by prohibiting a supply of new members, and the vacant property would perhaps devolve to the public. No change of events or opinions in France: next month will be critical from the Provincial Assemblies.

551.

_To Lord Sheffield._

Lausanne, May 15th, 1790.

[Sidenote: LEGAL FORMS BENEFIT LAWYERS.]

*Since the first origin (_ab ovo_) of our connection and correspondence, so long an interval of silence has not intervened, as far as I remember, between us.* Yet on the present occasion neither is materially to blame, nor has either been materially injured. My conscience was easy, since my last letter, I felt myself in the proud security of a creditor, and though after a certain space I waited every post for an answer, yet I waited with little impatience and no anxiety, in the firm persuasion that Lady-day would finally settle the whole transaction of the mortgage and the payment. I now find that the delay is involuntary and indefinite, and that it is not so easy to escape even from the amicable grip of the Court of Chancery. Can such superstitious forms be of any use except to the Lawyers? whose bill I much apprehend. Might not such an obsolete deed which I had perfectly forgot, have been thrown into the fire with the consent of all parties? However we must follow the stream, and I trust that neither Sussex nor Africa, nor Reading nor Bristol will relax your diligence in the cause of your friend. In the winding up an arrangement of twenty years, it is vexatious to be stopped by a little knot: but otherwise my nerves are not so much discomposed as you might suspect. As I believe the purchasers to be honest and sincere, the difference is only between the rent and the interest: the tenant deserves no mercy, and I hope your orders are absolute for distraining the next day on failure of payment. I trust that the £8000 mortgage is settled with Sainsbury, nor do I dislike your last resolution of pouring the whole residue into the funds.

*From my silence you conclude that the moral complaint, which I had insinuated in my last, is either insignificant or fanciful. The conclusion is rash. But the complaint in question is of the nature of a slow lingering disease, which is not attended with any immediate danger. As I have not leisure to expatiate, take the idea in three words: "Since the loss of poor Deyverdun, I am _alone_; and even in paradise, solitude is painful to a social mind. When I was a dozen years younger, I _scarcely_ felt the weight of a single existence amidst the crowds of London, of Parliament, of Clubs; but it will press more heavily upon me in this tranquil land, in the decline of life, and with the encrease of infirmities. Some expedient, even the most desperate, must be embraced, to secure the domestic society of a male or female companion. But I am not in a hurry; there is time for reflection and advice." During this winter such finer feelings have been suspended by the grosser evil of bodily pain. On the ninth of February I was seized by such a fit of the Gout as I had never known, though I must be thankful that its dire effects have been confined to the feet and knees, without ascending to the more noble parts. With some vicissitudes of better and worse, I have groaned between two and three months; the debility has survived the pain, and though now easy, I am carried about in my chair, without any power, and with a very distant chance, of supporting myself, from the extreme weakness and contraction of the joints of my knees. Yet I am happy in a skilful physician, and kind assiduous friend: every evening, during more than three months, has been enlivened (except when I have been forced to refuse them) by some chearful visits, and very often by a chosen party of both sexes. How different is such society from the solitary evenings which I have passed in the tumult of London! It is not worth while fighting about a shadow, but should I ever return to England, Bath, not the Metropolis, would be my last retreat.

Your portrait is at last arrived in perfect condition, and now occupies a conspicuous place over the chimney-glass in my library. It is the object of general admiration; good judges (the few) applaud the work; the name of Reynolds opens the eyes and mouths of the many; and were not I afraid of making you vain, I would inform you that the original is not allowed to be more than five-and-thirty. In spite of private reluctance and public discontent, I have honourably dismissed _myself_.[149] I shall arrive at Sir Joshua's before the end of the month; he will give me a look, and perhaps a touch; and you will be indebted to the president one guinea for the carriage. Do not be nervous, I am not rolled up; had I been so, you might have gazed on my charms four months ago. I want some account of yourself, of My lady, (shall we never directly correspond?) of Louisa, and of the soft, the stately Maria. How has the latter since her launch supported a quiet Winter in Sussex? I so much rejoice in your divorce from that b---- Kitty Coventry,[150] that I care not what marriage you contract. The second City in England would suit your dignity, and the duties of a Bristol Member, which would kill me in the first session, would supply your activity with a constant fund of amusement. But tread softly and surely; the ice is deceitful, the water is deep, and you may be soused over head and ears before you are aware. Why did not you or Elmsly send me the African pamphlet[151] by the post? it would not have cost much. You have such a knack of turning a nation, that I am afraid you will triumph (perhaps by the force of argument) over justice and humanity. But do you not expect to work at Beelzebub's sugar plantations in the infernal regions, under the tender government of a negro-driver? I should suppose both My lady and Miss Firth very angry with you.

As to the bill for prints, which has been too long neglected, why will you not exercise the power, which I have never revoked, over all my cash at the Goslings'? I have no further claims either for quarto or octavo copies, but I am persuaded that Cadell's liberality will credit your applications in my name for one of each. The Severy family has passed a very favourable winter; the young man is impatient to hear from a family which he places something above the Holy family: yet he will generously write next week, and send you a drawing of the alterations in the house. Do not raise your ideas; you know _I_ am satisfied with convenience in architecture, and some elegance in furniture. I hear nothing decisive either from Sir Ralph Payne about Madeira, and if I do not receive a supply in the course of the summer, I shall be in great shame and distress. I would write to the Bath Knight if I knew his address. That is serious business, but I admire the coolness with which you ask me to epistolize Reynell and Elmsly, as if a letter were so easy and pleasant a task; it appears less so to me every day.*

[149] His portrait.

[150] At the general election for 1790, Lord Eardley and John Wilmot were returned for Coventry, and the Marquis of Worcester and Lord Sheffield for Bristol. Lord Sheffield sat for Bristol from 1790 to 1802, when he was summoned to the British House of Peers.

[151] Lord Sheffield's pamphlet, _Observations on the Project for Abolishing the Slave Trade_, was published anonymously in 1790. The second edition (1791) bore the author's name.

552.

_Lord Sheffield to Edward Gibbon._

Sheffield Place, 28th July, '90.

[Sidenote: LORD SHEFFIELD RETURNED FOR BRISTOL.]

I wish I had better paper, but this is good enough for a foreigner. At length I have obtained an attested copy of Hester's Will, but no further letter or information from Mr. Law.

I find the Will was made in November, 1786, and is of considerable length, altho' her nephew Edward Gibbon takes up not much more than two lines of it. The rest says much about the family of Law, and the heirs of the Rev. Wm. Law. It gives the Sussex Estate to Edward Gibbon and his heirs for ever, and one thousand pounds to the said Edward, and one hundred pounds to her niece Lady Eliot, but the _chat d'enfer_, by a codicil dated 18th February, 1788, when her nephew resided in Downing Street, took the trouble of reducing the thousand pounds to one hundred pounds, to be paid within 12 months after her decease. When there is an opportunity I shall send the composition to you. And now you are once more a landed man. But I wonder I have not had a summons lately to attend Messrs. Sainsbury and Rhodes to conclude the Buriton business. I have furnished them with every paper, &c., they have desired, and I verily believe they are proceeding, yet it seems in a truly Chancery style. They plagued me lately about a deed for which it was necessary to ransack the boxes.

My last letter was from Clifton near Bristol (I believe) after my return from Coventry, and I also believe I therein mentioned Proceedings at Reading, Bristol, and Coventry. I was detained some time among my constituents for the purpose of incorporating a due quantity of Turtle, and on leaving them I subscribed somewhat above £300 to Infirmary, Magdalens, Small Debtors, &c. but that was all my expence at Bristol. I suppose I mentioned in my last that my expences at Coventry did not exceed £150.

Sir Joseph Banks[152] and family have been here several days, and inquired much after you. They are just gone, and Batt is just arrived, and stays till Brighthelmstone Races next week. Lord North and family are at Tunbridge Wells, and will make a visit here as soon as we are settled after Races.

[Sidenote: HESTER GIBBON'S WILL.]

Perhaps it may be needful to mention to you that the rent of your Newhaven, alias Meeching Farm, is £225. The Manor is considerable, the quit-rents and profits above £40--the latter uncertain. The deductions on account of Land-tax and Sackville College rent and expenses of collecting quit-rent about £29. I shall not readily approve of your selling it, but if you should be desperately disposed to increase your income, what do you think of taking double or treble the clear rent for your life, for the said Estate? I suppose about £550 per annum, which allows for outgoings, including repairs of sea-walls and every deduction but moderately--they have been of late years somewhat immoderate.

If you do not think of making little ones, it may suit you and it would me, although I am poor, because it would be a very respectable addition to my Sussex Estate. It would give me marshland of which I have none, also the mouth of the River Ouse, &c.: and perhaps a small house on the sea-shore. I do not know that it would be a good bargain for you and your heirs, but I think it would be a good one for the House of Holroyd, except that I should not like to be benefitted by the Devil taking you--yet I do not suspect I should wish it. In case of his taking me or not, you would have a collateral security besides that of the Estate itself. The best argument for your doing it is that I shall with-hold my consent to your selling it. On this subject you will give your mind without ceremony. It will furnish you with subject matter for a letter.

Yours ever, S.

Remember us to the house of Severy.

[152] Sir Joseph Banks (1743-1820) sailed with Captain Cook in the _Endeavour_ in 1768. He was President of the Royal Society from 1778 to 1820.

553.

_To Lord Sheffield._

Lausanne, August 7, 1790.

*I answer at once your two letters; and I should probably have taken earlier notice of the first, had I not been in daily expectation of the second. I must begin on the subject of what really interests me the most, your glorious election for Bristol. Most sincerely do I congratulate your exchange of a cursed expensive jilt, who deserted you for a rich Jew, for an honourable connection with a chaste and virtuous matron, who will probably be as constant as she is disinterested. In the whole range of election from Caithness to St. Yves, I much doubt whether there be a single choice so truly honourable to the member and the constituents. The second Commercial city invites, from a distant province, an independent Gentleman, known only by his active spirit, and his writings on the subject of trade; and names him, without intrigue or expence, for her representative: even the voice of party is silenced, While factions strive which shall applaud the most.

You are now sure, for seven years to come, of never wanting food--I mean business; what a crowd of suitors or Complainants will besiege your door! what a load of letters and memorials will be heaped on your table! I much question whether even you will not sometimes exclaim, _Ohe! jam satis est!_ but that is your affair. Of the excursion to Coventry I cannot decide, but I hear it is pretty generally blamed: but, however, I love gratitude to an old friend; and shall not be very angry if you damned them with a farewell to all eternity. But I cannot repress my indignation at the use of those foolish, obsolete, odious words, Whig and Tory. In the American War they might have some meaning; and then your Lordship was a Tory: since the coalition, all general principles have been confounded; and if there ever was an opposition to men, not measures, it is the present. Luckily, both the Leaders are great men; and, whatever happens, the country must fall upon its legs. What a strange mist of peace and war seems to hang over the ocean! We can perceive nothing but secrecy and vigour; but those are excellent qualities to perceive in a Minister. From yourself and politics I now return to my private concerns, which I shall methodically consider under the three great articles of mind, body, and estate.* And first, as Aristotle says, of the first.

[Sidenote: COMFORTLESS STATE OF DOMESTIC SOLITUDE.]

*1. I am not absolutely displeased at your firing so hastily at the hint, a tremendous hint, in my last letter. But the danger is not so serious or imminent as you seem to suspect; and I give you my word, that, before I take the slightest step which can bind me either in law, conscience, or honour, I will faithfully communicate, and we will freely discuss, the whole state of the business. But at present there is not any thing to communicate or discuss; I do assure you that I have not any particular object in view: I am not in love with any of the Hyænas of Lausanne, though there are some who keep their claws tolerably well pared. Sometimes, in a solitary mood, I have fancied myself married to one or other of those whose society and conversation are the most pleasing to me; but when I have painted in my fancy all the probable consequences of such an union, I have started from my dream, rejoyced in my escape, and ejaculated a thanksgiving that I was still in possession of my natural freedom. Yet I feel, and shall continue to feel, that domestic solitude, however it may be alleviated by the world, by study, and even by friendship, is a comfortless state, which will grow more painful as I descend in the vale of years. At present my situation is very tolerable; and if at dinner-time, or at my return home in the evening, I sometimes sigh for a companion, there are many hours, and many occasions, in which I enjoy the superior blessing of being sole master of my own house. But your plan, though less dangerous, is still more absurd than mine: such a couple as you describe could not be found; and, if found, would not answer my purpose; their rank and position would be awkward and ambiguous to myself and my acquaintance; and the agreement of three persons of three characters would be still more impracticable. My plan of Charlotte Porten is undoubtedly the most desirable; and she might either remain a spinster (the case is not without example,) or marry some Swiss of my choice, who would increase and enliven our society; and both would have the strongest motives for kind and dutiful behaviour. But the mother has been indirectly sounded; and will not hear of such a proposal for some years. On my side, I would not take her, but as a piece of soft wax which I could model to the language and manners of the Country: I must therefore be patient.

2. Young Severy's letter, which may be now in your hands, and which, for these three or four last posts, has furnished my indolence with a new pretence for delay, has already informed you of the means and circumstances of my resurrection. Tedious indeed was my confinement, since I was not able to move from my house or chair, from the ninth of February to the first of July, very nearly five months. The first weeks were accompanied with more pain than I have ever known in the Gout, with anxious days and sleepless nights; and when that pain subsided, it left a weakness in my knees, which seemed to have no end. My confinement was however softened by books, by the possession of every comfort and convenience, by a succession each evening of agreeable company, and by a flow of equal spirits and general good health. During the last weeks I descended to the ground floor, poor Deyverdun's apartment, and constructed a chair like Merlin's, in which I could wheel myself in the house and on the terrace. My patience has been universally admired; yet how many thousands have passed those five months less easily than myself. I remember making a remark perfectly simple, and perfectly true: "At present," I said to Madame de Severy, "I am not positively miserable, and I may reasonably hope a daily or weekly improvement, till sooner or later in the summer I shall recover new limbs, and new pleasures, which I do not now possess: have any of you such a prospect?" The prediction has been accomplished, and I have arrived to my present condition of strength, or rather of feebleness: I now can walk with tolerable ease in my garden and smooth places; but on the rough pavement of the town I use, and perhaps shall use, a sedan chair. The Pyrmont waters have performed wonders; and my physician (not Tissot, but a very sensible man) allows me to hope, that the term of the interval will be in proportion to that of the fit.*

3. And so Aunt Hester is gone to sing Hallelujahs, a glory which she did not seem very impatient to possess. I received the news of this dire event with much philosophic composure: she might have done better, she might have done worse, and I was always prepared for the worst. By this time you have probably a copy of the Will, and will take (as I suppose you are authorized) the proper and necessary steps. I most wish to learn whether she has left me the fee simple, the absolute disposal of her Sussex estate; the power of selling or the necessity of keeping that costly piece of property will make a wonderful difference in the value of her gift. From a motive of curiosity I wish to learn what she has done with her personal fortune; her four copper shares were worth at least five or six thousand pounds. Has she given them to the Laws? If in the bequeathing what was absolutely in her power she has postponed relations for friends, I think her determination both honourable and wise. If in the entailed estate she has preferred a poor though unbelieving nephew to a rich niece, she was likewise right. I speak with the impartiality of a third person.

And now let me seriously address you on the most important of my temporal concerns, Buriton. You will do me the justice to allow that I have not been either impatient or nervous: but the Estate was sold in April, 1789: this is now August, 1790, and the money is not yet paid, nor the purchase concluded. Is Lord Stawell perfidious, is he poor, is he unwilling? is the delay only produced by the ingenious forms of the lawyers? How many terms do they require for an amicable suit in Chancery? In the meanwhile I lose interest, the estate must suffer by neglect, and what will be the event? Exert your vigour, argue, persuade, consummate! On the 10th of November next my father will have been dead twenty years: let it not be said that with the counsel and aid of such a friend, I have not been able to settle my affairs in twenty years. What can I say more? the conclusion an Indian Epistle.

Yes, I have more or rather nothing more to say about the disposal of the money. I hope the Buriton mortgage for £8000 still holds: nothing else can be so easy or good. The remainder you will throw into the funds, and I wish we could take advantage of the present fall, but if a sure bond or neat mortgage from £2500 to £4000 should offer itself, I should be very well pleased.

[Sidenote: SWISS SENSIBLE OF THEIR HAPPINESS.]

*Have you read in the English papers, that the Government of Bern is overturned, and that we are divided into three Democratical leagues; true as the Gospel: true as what I have read in the French papers, that the English have cut off Pitt's head, and abolished the house of Lords. The people of this country are happy; and in spite of some malcontents, and more foreign Emissaries, they are sensible of their happiness.*

My MADEIRA is almost exhausted, and I must receive before the end of the Autumn a stout cargo of wholesome exquisite wine with proper _previous_ notice which may prevent all accidents at the Custom House. Your Bristol connection must give you great advantages, but (if I could procure his direction) I would not neglect Sir Ralph Payne's favours.

*Inform My lady, that I am indignant at a false and heretical assertion in her last letter to Severy, "that friends at a distance cannot love each other, if they do not write." I love her better than any woman in the world; indeed I do; and yet I do not write. And she herself--but I am calm. We have now nearly one hundred French exiles, some of them worth being acquainted with; particularly a Count de Schomberg, who is become almost my friend; he is a man of the World, of letters, and of sufficient age, since in 1753 he succeeded to Marshal Saxe's regiment of Dragoons. As to the rest, I entertain them, and they flatter me: but I wish we were reduced to our Lausanne society. Poor France! the state is dissolved, the nation is mad! Adieu.*

554.

_Lord Sheffield to Edward Gibbon._

Sheffield Place, 21st Sept., '90.

I approve your observations on the Bristol Election, and I do not believe you heard the Excursion to Coventry pretty generally blamed. I knew nothing of an Opposition till two days after the Poll began. A man who had been useful to me in the same line being concerned, I had no difficulty nor hesitation as to what was to be done.

On the subject of Buriton I acknowledge you have been as Philosophic as could be expected. There seems to be something supernatural attending all your worldly concerns. In answer to a repeated remonstrance to Mr. Sainsbury, the last information is from Mr. Rhodes the Attorney, dated Sept. 4th instant. He says (Mrs. Sainsbury desired him to write, Mr. Sainsbury being in Ireland), "The matter in Chancery remains unfinished by the Master. When we obtained the Deed and laid it before him, he said that he had then so many other reports to prepare that he was apprehensive that he should not be able to prepare ours. We said and did everything in our power to induce him to do it, but we could not prevail. He has promised to let us have it before the ensuing Term, which will begin on the 6th of November next, and the other business cannot be completed before the first week in the term." It is difficult to believe these delays are intentional, as a considerable sum remains dormant as to the Land in the hands of the Auctioneers, Messrs. Skinners, and as so great a proportion of the purchase money is to remain in Mortgage. The only thing I can firmly object to, is an over nicety on the part of Sainsbury or his Lawyers as to the title, but I shall go to London as soon as Term begins and reiterate every measure that can speedily bring matters to a conclusion. In the meantime I shall be very troublesome until I am assured every paper is ready for signature. As to the Estate it does not suffer by neglect; a new Tenant recommended by Sainsbury has taken it from the poor flimsy creature that held it in a fright, and Andrewes stoutly exacts the rent when due.

[Sidenote: LORD SHEFFIELD'S OFFER FOR NEWHAVEN.]

We almost howled when we read the tremendous account of nearly five months' confinement--the weakness in your traces affrighted me most, but I rejoiced exceedingly in your last, which says that you have advanced to nearly your usual condition of strength. I never heard of Pyrmont waters for the gout--but I grieve to tell you that notwithstanding repeated applications I find your Hogshead of Madeira (which is on its travels) may not arrive sooner than 4, 5, or 6 months. I must spare you all I can of my Old Madeira which is in London, but I do not know that it will amount to a quantity worth the trouble of sending. I shall make every effort and inquire everywhere for you. As to Sir Ralph Payne, surely a letter directed to him in London would find him, if you think that mode preferable.

Your plan as to Charlotte Porten might be the most desirable, but nothing could be more fancifull than to suppose it could possibly succeed, unless you could send a Demon cracked from Paris to hang the mother to a Lanthern.

My last letter answers your question whether Hester had left you the fee-simple of the Sussex Estate. I have learned nothing more concerning that Holy woman since the receipt of the Copy of her Will, nor am I likely, unless I should find some of the family of the Laws in London next winter. I think you should inclose to me an order to the Executors, Messrs. William Law, Senior, of Kings Cliffe, and William Law of Stamford, to deliver to me all the Writings, Papers, Surveys, Plans, &c., relating to the Sussex Estate, and you may add, those which relate to the Family of Gibbon.

When Batt was here not long since, I mentioned to him your old Aunt's Bequest and my proposition to you; at first, he did not object, but next day he scouted my folly and extravagance in diminishing my Income. My observations that I should and could easily cut down annually more timber than would pay the difference, and that in case I went to glory, those who came after me would be fully compensated in the end for loss of Income--I say, these observations seemed to make little impression on him. However, I was somewhat chilled, yet I cannot help thinking it or something of the kind might answer to both of us, if you should be desperately disposed to sell to increase your Income. I should acquire a position on the Sea-Shore--but you may have thought of something that would answer your purpose better.

You admire the Minister's secrecy and vigour. There is no secrecy in the case, but surely he has made a desperate plunge, and it appears to me a very wanton one--and if it is right to take an advantage, he is losing the opportunity.[153] It is difficult to suppose that Spain will engage _single-handed_ with us, but we may bully them into it, and although France cannot at present do much, yet the adherence of the National Assembly to the Family compact may help the Spaniards to be stout, and above all it would be good policy in the French Aristocrats to dash France into a war at all events.

You are incorrigible, but we desire that you will encourage De Severy to write. It is surprising he can write and remember English so well. The alterations in your Chateau pleased us very much. I have enquired more than once whether you would have the provision for Mrs. Gibbon to be £200 or £300. You pay the latter, but I understand.

Everybody is looking into Bruce's Travels.[154] Part takes the attention, but they are abominably abused. Banks objects to the Botany, Reynell to the Geography, Cambridge to the History, The Greeks to the Greek, &c., &c.; yet the work is to be found on every table. Bruce printed the work, and sold 2000 copies to Robertson for £6000. He sells to the booksellers at 4 guineas, and they to their customers at 5 guineas.

[153] In May, 1790, a message from the king was delivered to the House of Commons by Pitt, informing them that two British ships had been seized in Nootka Sound off the coast of California by two Spanish men-of-war, that satisfaction had been demanded, that Spain claimed exclusive rights in those waters, and was making active preparations for war. Spain, relying on the family compact, asked aid from France, and Louis XVI. communicated the demand to the National Assembly, asking that a fleet should be equipped to send assistance. Preparations were made at Brest to send assistance; but the mutinous conduct of the French sailors apparently alarmed the Spanish Government, which withdrew its claims, restored the property seized, and offered compensation. The Convention between England and Spain was signed October 28, 1790. "The first and great news is the pacification with Spain. The courier arrived on Thursday morning with a most acquiescent answer to our ultimatum" (Walpole to the Miss Berrys, November 8, 1790).

[154] James Bruce of Kinnaird, F.R.S., published in 1790 his _Travels to discover the Sources of the Nile_, in five quarto volumes.

555.

_This letter is apparently written to M. Langer, the Librarian of the Ducal Library of Wolfenbuttel. A translation of part of it was found with Gibbon's manuscript of the_ Antiquities of the House of Brunswick, _and published by Lord Sheffield_ (Gibbon's Miscellaneous Works, vol. iii. pp. 353-558).

À Rolle, ce 12 Octobre, 1790.

[Sidenote: M. LANGER AT WOLFENBUTTEL.]

Je vous aurois plutot remercié, Monsieur, des soins obligeans que vous avez bien voulû vous donner pour me procurer les Origines Guelficæ,[155] si d'un côté notre honnête libraire Mr. Pott ne m'avoit pas appris que vous etiez en voyage, si de l'autre je n'avois pas été moi même en proye à l'acces de goutte le plus rigoureux et le plus long que j'aye encore éprouvé.

Nous revoici à present dans notre état ordinaire, je marche, et vous ne courez plus. Je vous suppose bien etabli, bien enfoncé dans votre immense bibliotheque dans un endroit qui fournit peut-être un choix plus étendu et plus interessant des morts que des vivans. Comme vous êtes également propre à vivre avec les uns et les autres, je desirerois pour votre bonheur aussi bien que pour celui de vos amis, que vous pûssiez enfin executer comme moi le projet de chercher une douce retraite sur les bords du lac Leman. Il s'en faut de beaucoup que vous n'y soyez oublié: nous parlons souvent de vous surtout dans la famille de Severy, nous regrettons votre absence et en nous rappellant l'aimable franchise, la vivacité piquante de _l'Esclave_, nous cherisons l'esperance de vous revoir parmi nous en homme libre, ne dependant que de vos gouts et pouvant vous donner tout entier aux lettres et à la societé.

Vous aurez sans doute appris la perte irreparable que j'ai faite du pauvre Deyverdun. En vertu de son testament et de mes arrangemens avec son heritier Mr. le Major de Montagny, je me suis assuré ma vie durant la jouissance de sa maison et de son jardin. Vous en connoissez tous les agrémens qui se sont encore augmentés par une dépense assez considerable et assez bien tendu que j'y ai faité depuis sa mort. Je dois être content de ma position mais on ne peut pas remplacer un ami de trente ans. Votre curiosité, peut-être votre amitié, desirera de connoitre mes amusemens, mes travaux, mes projets pendant les deux ans qui se sont écoulé depuis la dernière publication de mon grand ouvrage. Aux questions indiscretes qu'on se permet trop souvent vis-à-vis de moi, je responds avec une mine renfrognée et d'une manière vague, mais je ne veux rien avoir de caché pour vous et pour imiter la franchise que vous aimez, je vous avouerai naturellement que ma confidence est fondée en partie sur le besoin que j'aurai de votre secours.

Après mon retour d'Angleterre les premiers mois ont été consacrés à la jouissance de ma liberté et de ma bibliotheque, et vous ne serez pas étonné si j'ai renouvellé une connoissance familière avec vos auteurs Grecs et si j'ai fait vœu de leur reserver tous les jours une portion de mon loisir. Je passe sous silence ces tristes momens dans lesquels je n'ai été occupé qu'à soigner et à pleurer mon ami: mais dès que j'ai commencé à me retrouver un esprit moins agile, j'ai cherché à me donner quelque distraction plus forte et plus interessante que la simple lecture. Le souvenir de ma servitude de vingt ans m'a cependant effrayé et je me suis bien promis de ne plus m'embarquer dans une entreprise de longue haleine que je n'acheverois vraisemblablement jamais. Il vaut bien mieux, me suis je dit, choisir, dans tous les pays et dans tous les siecles, des morceaux historiques que je traiterai separément suivant leur nature et selon mon gout. Lorsque ces opuscules (je pourrai les nommer en Anglais, _Historical Excursions_) me fourniront un volume, je le donnerai au public: ce don pourroit etre renouvellé jusqu'a ce que nous soyons fatigués ou ce public ou moi même: mais chaque volume, complet par lui même, n'exigera point de suite, et au lieu d'être borné comme la diligence au grand chemin, je me promenerai librement dans le champ de l'histoire en m'arrêtant partout où je trouve des points de vue agreables. Dans ce projet je ne vois qu'un inconvenient,--un objet interessant s'étend et s'aggrandit sous le travail: je pourrois être entrainé au dela de mes bornes, mais je serai doucement entrainé sans prevoyance et sans contrainte.

[Sidenote: THE HISTORY OF THE GUELFS.]

Mes soupçons ont été vérifiés dans le choix de ma première _excursion_. Ce que j'avois si bien prevu n'a pas manqué d'arriver à mon premier choix et ce choix vous expliquera pourquoi j'ai demandé avec tant d'empressement les Origines Guelficæ. Dans mon histoire j'avois rendu compte de deux alliances illustres, d'un fils du Marquis Azo d'Este avec une fille de Robert Guiscard,[156] d'une princesse de Brunswick avec l'Empereur Grec. Un premier appercu de l'antiquité et de la grandeur de la maison de Brunswick a excité ma curiosité, et j'ai cru me pouvoir interesser les deux nations que j'estime le plus par les mémoires d'une famille qui est sortie de l'une pour regner sur l'autre. Mes recherches, en me devoilant la beauté de ce sujet, m'en ont fait voir l'étendue et la difficulté. L'origine des Marquis de Ligurie et peut-être de Toscane a été suffisament eclaircie par Muratori et Leibnitz; l'Italie du moyen age, son histoire et ses monumens, me sont très connus et je ne suis pas mécontent de ce que j'ai déjà écrit sur la branche cadette d'Este qui est demeurée fidelle a garder ses cendres casanières. Les anciens Guelfs ne me sont point étrangers, et je me crois en etat de rendre compte de la puissance et de la chute de leurs heritiers, les Ducs de Bavière et de Saxe.

La succession de la maison de Brunswick au trône de la Grande Bretagne sera très assurément la partie la plus interessante de mon travail; mais tous les materiaux se trouvent dans ma langue, et un Anglois devroit rougir s'il n'avoit pas approfondi l'histoire moderne et la constitution actuelle de son pays. Mais entre le premier Duc et le premier Electeur de Brunswick il se trouve un intervalle de quatre cent cinquante ans, je suis condamné à suivre dans les tenèbres un sentier étroit et raboteux, et les divisions, les sous divisions, de tant de branches et de territoires repandent sur ce sentier la confusion d'un labyrinthe Genealogique. Les événemens sans éclat et sans liaison sont bornés à une province d'Allemagne et ce n'est que vers la fin de cette periode que je serois un peu ranimé par la reformation, la guerre de trente ans, et la nouvelle puissance de l'Electorat. Comme je me propose de crayonner des Memoires et non pas de composer une histoire, je marcherois sans doute d'un pas rapide, je presenterois des resultats plutot que des faits, des observations plutot que des récits: mais vous sentez, combien un tableau general exige de connoissances particulières, combien l'auteur doit être plus savant que son livre.

Or cet auteur, il est à deux cent lieues de la Saxe, il ignore la langue et il ne s'est jamais appliqué à l'histoire de l'Allemagne. Eloigné des sources, il ne lui reste qu'un seul moyen pour les faire couler dans sa bibliotheque. C'est de se menager sur les lieux même un correspondant exact, un guide eclairé, un oracle enfin qu'il puisse consulter dans tous ses besoins. Par votre caractère, votre esprit, vos lumières, votre position, vous êtes cet homme precieux et unique que je cherche, et quand vous m'indiquerez un _suppléant_ aussi capable que vous même je ne m'addresserois pas avec la même confiance à un étranger. Je vous accablerois librement de questions, et de nouvelles questions naitroient souvent de vos reponses; je vous prierois de fouiller dans votre vaste depôt; je vous demanderois des notices, des livres, des extraits, des traductions, des renseignements sur tous les objets qui peuvent intéresser mon travail. Mais j'ignore si vous êtes disposé à sacrifier votre loisir, vos études chéries à une correspondance pénible sans agrémens et sans gloire. Je me flatte que vous feriez quelque chose pour moi, vous feriez encore davantage pour l'honneur de la maison à laquelle vous êtes attaché, mais suis-je en droit de supposer que mes ecrits puissent contribuer de quelque chose à son honneur?

J'attends, Monsieur, votre reponse qu'elle soit prompte et franche. Si vous daignez vous associer à mon entreprise, je vous envoyerai sur le champ mon premier interrogatoire. Votre refus me decideroit à renoncer à mon dessein, ou du moins à lui donner une nouvelle forme. J'ose en même tems vous demander un profond secret: un mot indiscret seroit repeté par cent bouches et j'aurois le desagrement de voir dans les journaux, et bientôt dans les papiers Anglois, une annonce, peut-être défigurée, de mes projets littéraires, qui ne sont confiés qu'à vous seul.

J'ai l'honneur d'être, E. G.

[155] _Origines Guelficæ, quibus potentissimæ gentis primordia, magnitudo, variaque fortuna exhibentur._ Opus præeunte G. G. Leibnitii stilo J. G. Eccardi literis consignatum, postea a J. D. Grubero novis probationibus instructum. (Ad finem perduxit atque edidit C. L. Scheidius. Accedit duplex index, etc., curante J. H. Jungio.) Hanoveræ, 1750-80, fol.

[156] _Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire_ (edition of 1862), vol. vii. p. 119.

556.

_To Lord Sheffield._

[Oct. 17, '90.]

[Sidenote: SERVITUDE TO LAWYERS.]

You call me incorrigible: but I never was less disposed than at present to plead guilty. Have you forgot the general picture of mind, body and estate which I sent you since my recovery? in the tranquil life of Lausanne a long interval might elapse without affording any features to alter or any colours to vary. On the most interesting topic, poor Buriton, it is mine to hear rather than to write, and most ardently indeed do I now desire to hear of the conclusion of that incomprehensible business. Is it possible, are we under such servitude to the lawyers that an obsolete act without force or meaning should have hung us up for a year in Chancery? If I do not learn before the end of the year that the money is paid and placed, I shall be as miserable as pecuniary events can make me; when it is done I am easy and happy for life. In the midst of your arduous affairs I do not suspect any failure of zeal, but I now call upon you to redouble your speed, and to strain every nerve till we have reached the goal. Till the present business I never imagined that it was difficult to find people who would take your money. It is lucky that Sainsbury has consented to leave £8000 on Buriton: with regard to the remainder I leave it absolutely to your judgement, but since you distrust with reason private bond security, I see no other way than throwing it into the funds; a short delay might be allowed in expectation of their sinking, but the rise and fall are so uncertain, that it might be the 'rusticus expectat dum defluat amnis.' In the mean while Buriton rent must be paid, and as the two quarters due at Lady day had been neglected, the whole year till last Michaelmas must be rigorously exacted. I do not believe (though I would not give a gentleman the lye) that you ever asked me the question about Mrs. G.'s jointure: it will be an handsome, an easy compliment to give her a right to the three hundred which I pay her in fact.

Let us now make a tour to Newhaven. Upon the whole I am very well satisfied. You remark that about February, 1788, the old Saint decimated her nephew: but have you forgot that her atheistical nephew had neglected to accept her invitation and would not even write her a civil letter? surely _he_ has no right to complain. I am ignorant of the character and behaviour of the Laws, but in the general principle of preferring friends to relations, I think her perfectly right.--You were not surely impatient for an answer to your proposal: it demands the coolest deliberation, and there cannot be the smallest occasion for dispatch. I will however impart such ideas as have arisen.

1. I agree with Batt in thinking it an unwise measure for yourself. Is this a time to diminish your income when you must enlarge or at least support your expence, when you know that for seven years to come you will not enjoy the benefit of a single winter fallow? If you have timber it will be sufficiently wanted for your annual supplies.

2. The balance of my fortune and my wishes depends on a contingency which I have neither power nor inclination to hasten. As soon as the Belvidere subsides, I am rich beyond all my plans of expence at Lausanne. Every winter such an event is probable, and it is highly probable that it will happen in three or four winters. It is indeed possible that a fine thread may be drawn to a great length without breaking, and if I turned a landed estate into an annuity, I should never be at a loss to employ the superfluity. If my heir, the creature of my choice does not think he has enough, the dog has too much.

557.

_Lord Sheffield to Edward Gibbon._

Sheffield Place, 3rd Jan., 1791.

It occurs to me in the midst of much hurry, that you may have a wish for further information on the subject of the Madeira. It was shipped for Ostend on the 3rd Dec., with full and ample instructions (according to your own directions) for its conveyance to Basle, where it is to wait your further orders. I suppose that on the receipt of my former letter you wrote to your correspondent there.

The Wine is gone in one hogshead and one tierce, marked & No. E. G. No. 1 & 2.

The Bill as follows--

£ _s._ _d._ No. 1. 6 doz. finest Malmsey sealed red-- on board 17 4 0 6 doz. Bottles 1 1 0 No. 2. One Hogshead best Old Madeira-- on board 39 0 0 1 Hogshead--1 Tierce--1 Case & Bills of Lading 1 10 8 --------------- 59 5 8

Probably it is the best wine of the kind that ever reached the centre of Europe. You will remember that an Hogshead is on his travels through the torrid zone for you. I suppose you do not mean to decline it when it arrives. No wine is meliorated to a greater degree by keeping than Madeira, and you latterly appeared so ravenous for it, that I must conceive you wish to have a stock.

I have had a Congress with Sainsbury, &c. The business has been referred to the Master of the Rolls. I have talked with the Master. It seems in good train. The conveyance is preparing. The message of young Porten is very troublesome. Sainsbury wished to avoid taking the £8000 on mortgage. I remonstrated strongly. He agreed, handsomely, to take it rather than embarrass. I have promised £4000 on a Yorkshire mortgage. I have been very busy in Town. I am glad I cannot finish _the Paper_, because you are such a worthless fellow, that you do not answer even on business.

Yours ever, S.

N.B.--The Birth of Maria, & the Justices are waiting for me at the Inn.

558.

_To Lord Sheffield._

1791.

[Sidenote: GIBBON'S SERIOUS ILLNESS.]

*Your indignation will melt into pity, when you hear that for several weeks past I have been again confined to my chamber and my chair. Yet I must hasten, generously hasten, to exculpate the Gout, my old enemy, from the curses which you already pour on his head. He is not the cause of this disorder, although the consequences have been somewhat similar.* After some days of fever and a most violent oppression in my head and stomach, the morbid humour forced itself into my right leg, which was covered from my knee to my toe with a strong inflammatory _Erisipèle_ or Rash. I was gradually relieved by a plentiful discharge of pus _atque Venenum_ (excuse the indelicacy) which, according to my Physician, has surpassed that of fifty blisters. The skin has been compleatly renewed, and I now crawl about the house upon two sticks. *I am satisfied that this effort of nature has saved me from a very dangerous, perhaps a fatal, crisis; and I listen to the flattering hope that it may tend to keep the Gout at a more respectful distance.* You will determine whether it ought to raise or sink the purchase of my annuity.

I must confess that I am disappointed, vexed, harrassed, fatigued with the strange procrastination of the Buriton affairs which are now verging to the end of the second year. In former transactions while we were fighting with knaves and madmen nothing could surprise, but in this amicable connection with a willing and able purchaser, it is indeed provoking that term after term we should be hung up (a most proper expression) in the forms of the Court of Chancery. You are now on the spot, and I conjure you by every tye of friendship and humanity to steal some moments from the service of Bristol, to strain every nerve of your active genius, and to send me a speedy and satisfactory account that the business is terminated, and the money paid. The funds are indeed so very high, that I agree with you in preferring a clear four per cent. which _they_ do not yield, on the solid basis of the Earth, I mean on good landed security. I therefore much approve of your holding Sainsbury to his engagement of retaining the £8000 on the mortgage of Buriton's own self, and hope you will not fail of success in registering £4000 more in Yorkshire. Should any loose hundreds remain, they may be best added to my India bonds in Gosling's hands. I much fear that another half year from Buriton will become due (at Lady-day), and hope you will order Andrews to exact it without mercy or delay.

I feel myself much embarrassed how to define or establish my claims on Hugonin. We always treated with the confidence of friends, and the ease of Gentlemen, and his short accounts, from art or accident, were always so vague, that I could never discern to what half year his remittances applied. I am satisfied that two years or at least eighteen months have never been accounted for; but on the most moderate footing I may demand the year's rent which ended at Michaelmas 1788, and which was not paid when I left England. The agency of Hugonin will not be disputed, the Tenant's receipt will prove that it was paid into his hands, and even the silence of Gosling's books will afford some evidence that it never was remitted for my use. Besides, will not the _onus probandi_ rest on Hugonin's heirs, who ought to produce my discharge? On recollection I may even state my damages at eighteen months, since according to a vile abuse, the tenant only paid at Michaelmas the year's rent which had been due the previous Lady-day.

[Sidenote: ACCEPTS ANNUITY FOR NEWHAVEN.]

I now proceed to the important business of Newhaven, and am not sorry that we have both of us taken sufficient time to avoid the reproach of rash and precipitate measures. As you are not an infant I will decline any farther remonstrance of what may be proper or improper for yourself, and will think solely of my own interest. After mature consideration I am _resolved_ to amplify my income by the sale of Newhaven, leaving one half of the purchase money to sink in an Annuity and the other half to swim in a Mortgage. My old scruples against pecuniary transactions with a friend are much diminished by my experience of the delays and difficulties which occur in a treaty with a stranger, and I flatter myself that you will not think it necessary to ascertain my title to the Estate by an amicable suit in Chancery. Your statement is impartial and your terms are liberal: Twenty-eight years' purchase appears a fair price for an Estate circumstanced like mine, and I am not ambitious of paying more than twelve years for the chance of my earthly existence. But I do not perfectly acquiesce in your striking off the casual profits to balance the casual losses and repairs, and I must request that you would try a very simple calculation: Supposing the three per Cents at eighty, your landed estate, after deducting every possible outgoing, would pay you as good interest as your money in the funds. Is such an equality reasonable? Should you pay nothing for the solid security of land? Is the National Debt less exposed than the Sussex acres to be swallowed in the Ocean? The calculation is easy.

£ _s._ _d._ Clear rent of Newhaven after deducting Land-tax and quitrents 234 17 10

Interest paid by the Tenant on £154 at 4 per cent. 6 0 0

Casual profits on an average 19 13 4 ------------------- £260 11 2 28 ------ £7280, of which

£ £ 4000 mortgage 160 3280 annuity 273 ---- £433

Suppose we reduce this sum to £7000 and divide it equally, the produce will be £430 (£140 for the Mortgage, £290 for the Annuity). I cannot think my expectations quite unreasonable, but I leave the final arbitration to yourself, as if we were treating with a third person, and I authorize you to conclude with Lord Sheffield on such conditions as I ought to ask and he will be disposed to give. The farm itself will never answer for the Mortgage, and you will obtain a good and sufficient security for the annuity. In the meanwhile I should be glad to know when I may expect the payment of some rent, and from what date it will begin to accrue to me.

N.B.--Your own offer is £4200, the Mortgage; £280 Annuity. But arithmetic is erroneous: 3052 divided by 12 do not produce 280 but only 254. You are a pretty man of business. So much for Newhaven.

Since we are talking of Wills, I must request that you would commit mine to the flames. By the first opportunity I will send you the duplicate of another which I have constructed on more rational principles. You will not disapprove the preference which I now give to the children of Sir Stanier Porten: they are the nearest, the most indigent and the most deserving of my relations.

*The whole sheet has been filled with dry selfish business; but I must and will reserve some lines of the cover for a little friendly conversation. I passed four days at the castle of Copet with Necker; and could have wished to have shown him, as a warning to any aspiring youth possessed with the Dæmon of ambition.[157] With all the means of private happiness in his power, he is the most miserable of human beings: the past, the present, and the future are equally odious to him. When I suggested some domestic amusements of books, building, &c. he answered, with a deep tone of despair, "Dans l'état où je suis, je ne puis sentir que le coup de vent qui m'a abbattu." How different from the careless chearfulness with which our poor friend Lord North supported his fall! Madame Necker maintains more external composure, _mais le Diable n'y perd rien_. It is true that Necker wished to be carried into the Closet, like old Pitt, on the shoulders of the people; and that he has been ruined by the Democracy which he had raised. I believe him to be an able financier, and know him to be an honest man; too honest, perhaps, for a minister. His rival Calonne has passed through Lausanne, in his way from Turin; and was soon followed by the Prince of Condé, with his son and grandson;[158] but I was too much indisposed to see them. They have, or have had, some wild projects of a counter-revolution: horses have been bought, men levied, and the Canton of Berne has too much countenanced such foolish attempts which must end in the ruin of the party.

[Sidenote: PRAISE OF BURKE'S _REFLECTIONS_.]

Burke's book[159] is a most admirable medicine against the French disease, which has made too much progress even in this happy country. I admire his eloquence, I approve his politics, I adore his chivalry, and I can forgive even his superstition. The primitive Church, which I have treated with some freedom, was itself at that time an innovation, and I was attached to the old Pagan establishment. The French spread so many lyes about the sentiments of the English nation, that I wish the most considerable men of all parties and descriptions would join in some public act, declaring themselves satisfied with and resolved to support our present constitution. Such a declaration would have a wonderful effect in Europe; and, were I thought worthy, I myself should be proud to subscribe it. I have a great mind to send you something of a sketch, such as all thinking men might adopt.

I have intelligence of the approach of my Madeira, and on its receipt will despatch a draught for the payment. I accept with equal pleasure the second, now in the torrid zone. Send me some pleasant details of your domestic state, of Maria, &c. If my lady thinks that my silence is a mark of indifference, my lady is a goose. I _must_ have you all at Lausanne next summer.* Apropos, I must have £3000 on Annuity and £3000 on Mortgage: the surplus you may divide as you like best. I wish you would not enclose your letters to Paris. I have no longer any connections with Lessert, and they desire not to be troubled with them.

[157] "Mr. Gibbon writes that he has seen Necker, and found him still devoured by ambition, and I should think by mortification at the foolish figure he has made" (Walpole to the Miss Berrys, February 28, 1791).

[158] Louis Joseph, Prince de Condé (1736-1818), was the son of the Duc de Bourbon who was minister to Louis XV. He had served in the Seven Years' War, and commanded the _émigrés_ on the banks of the Rhine, who were known as the _armée de Condé_. Both his son and grandson died by violence. His son, the Duc de Bourbon (1756-1830), was found hanged in his room. Suspicion, probably without reason, fell on his mistress, Madame de Feuchéres. With him was extinguished the family of Condé, for the grandson here mentioned was the Duc d'Enghien (1772-1804) who was shot at Vincennes in 1804.

[159] Burke's _Reflections on the Revolution in France_ were published in October, 1790. "Gibbon admires Burke to the skies, and even the religious parts, he says" (Walpole to the Miss Berrys, February 28, 1791).

559.

_Lord Sheffield to Edward Gibbon._

Downing Street, 5th Feb., 1791.

We remained in the country to the last moment, & I came to Town furious against you on account of your neglect of writing, but on reaching Lord Guilford,[160] I learned that you had been very ill, & I was completely softened and no longer abusive. His information came from Major Frank North, who added that you were recovering.

Now are you not a damned good-for-nothing fellow for not recollecting that we might hear you were ill, & therefore not desiring De Severy to write a line to mention that you were recovering? I have for a long time exhorted my Lady to write to him. I think she will now favour him with a Philipick. What has been the matter? for my account does not say whether it has been the gout only or something more. I shall be really sulky if you do not write one line. We are much annoyed. I went to Elmsley & he knew nothing.

[Sidenote: THE CORN LAWS AND SLAVE TRADE.]

I will not write to you on business until a fragment arrives from you, except to say the Business has stopped in hopes of information from you relative to the amount of Hugonin's debt to you. You know I had nothing to do with the affairs between you and him, and of course could not make out the ballance. Andrews has stated it to me at £347 2_s._ 3_d._ I supposed it to be more, therefore waited to hear from you; but I have an Affidavit ready prepared to make before a Master for that amount; that operation is necessary before any further progress can be made. In addition to my other occupations I am more busied than ever I was in my life about a Corn Bill[161] now depending, (as great a business as I have ever undertaken). I examined it well during the Recess, and made ample notes on my arrival; I have shewn them to Batt and Sir Joseph, and they recommend strenuously that I should publish them with my name. They say it is too argumentative, it requires too much consideration, for a speech. They think it will do me great credit. They add it is impossible even for a very able man in the art of speaking and in the habit, to do it justice in a speech. In short, I am obliged to undertake publication in such an hurry as will not produce your commendation. The question comes on in a week. I find the first Edition of my _Observations on the Project for Abolishing the Slave Trade_[162] was not sent to you. I have delivered the second Edition to Elmsley to be forwarded when there is an opportunity. I learned from him that you had not received Burke's _Pamphlet_.

If you had not been ill I should have talked to you as you deserve about the addition to your History. It is as it should be, that I am to hear of that addition for the first time from Newspapers or accidental correspondents. I did not believe the circumstance until everybody was convinced of it, and Mr. Cadell's information was general. It is intolerable.

[160] The Earl of Guilford (1704-1790) died August 4, 1790, and was succeeded by his eldest son Frederick, better known as Lord North.

[161] Lord Sheffield's _Observations on the Corn Bill now depending in Parliament_ was published in 1791. The Corn Regulation Bill was introduced early in that year. The House went into committee on the Bill on February 22, 1791, Lord Sheffield protesting against its principle, but not dividing the House. Lord Sheffield twice beat Pitt (March 11 and April 11) on the question of warehousing foreign corn. He also argued for 52_s._ instead of 48_s._ as the lowest price at which, in the interest of farmers, it was possible to admit foreign corn (April 4).

[162] Lord Sheffield opposed Wilberforce's motion (April 18, 1791) for the Abolition of the Slave Trade on the ground that the West Indian Assemblies alone could deal with the question fairly in all its bearings.

560.

_Lord Sheffield to Edward Gibbon._

Downing Street, 15th March, 1791.

Your manuscript at last received exhilarated us very considerably. We heard you were better, but did not exactly know the state of things. We had almost made up our minds to go to see you in a snug party for a month or two in the summer, but now you are well we do not care so much about you. Maria says the allowance of a year's purchase is a fair offer, and my Lady is still more eager to go than Maria.

I know not how I made the mistake in saying the annuity should be £280 instead of £254, but on the receipt of your letter, I desired Woodcock to make out the conveyance for £3000 in an annuity at 12 years' purchase (£250) and £4000 on Mortgage at 4 per cent., £160 together with £410. You will observe that I have somewhat diminished the sum to be laid out on an annuity and encreased the sum on Mortgage, thinking it better for you. Unfortunately for you, since the above arrangement, I have discovered that besides the outgoings I mentioned to you there is a Fee Farm rent of £5 8_s._ 0_d._ payable out of the Estate, which at 28 years' purchase makes a deduction of £151 4_s._ 0_d._ Be assured that you are a damned Jew, otherwise you would have been content with the £6700 which I profferred to you, and I think you ought still. I propose that the annuity and mortgage interest shall begin from Lady-day ensuing, and the Deeds shall be sent to you whenever I can prevail on Woodcock to prepare them. The Annuity shall be payable out of certain farms at Sheffield, and the £4000 mortgage shall be on the Newhaven Estate. The Mortgage Deeds, &c., shall be left in Batt's hands for your account. It is observable that I am paying you £4000 for the reversion of the Estate, and in the meantime more than the annual clear income of it. I am purchasing Lord Heathfield's House and Estate in Sussex, 14 miles from Sheffield, for Sir Henry Clinton. Only 25 years' purchase, deducting every outgoing, is asked, and the timber (which will be very advantageous) is rated very moderately.

You have often remarked how singular your ill-luck is as to sales and titles to Estates. Be it known to you that the conveyance of the Newhaven Estate to your Grandfather is lost. All the other old writings belonging to it were found carefully tyed up and transmitted to me by Mr. Law. The Lawyers say, as I know the circumstances of the Estate and Family, it is such a title as I may take if I please. Yet that I should not be able to sell it again but to disadvantage. I answer that I do not wish it to be sold again. Thus it appears you could not easily sell to anybody but me. As to the Buriton business, I have been almost afraid to tell you that it is still hung up. It is again referred to a Master in Chancery. However, there is no step neglected that can bring it to a conclusion, and I hope it cannot hold on much longer. I have made out that Hugonin was indebted to you to the amount of a year and a half of Buriton. I have sworn to the account, and you will receive at least ten shillings in the pound. Hugonin, his Mistress and daughter are all dead within two years. You will have £8000 on Mortgage in Hampshire, £4000 in Sussex, and £4000 in Yorkshire. All good strings to your bow.

[Sidenote: THE LABOURING OAR IN THE HOUSE.]

The account of your undergoing a drain equal to fifty blisters furnishes me with some satisfaction, as we think it will be serviceable to your fat carcase. You have proven me busy, but I was comparatively at leisure. I have illuminated the Corn Laws. The subject was not understood. The Pamphlet written in a few days is in great repute. You will abuse it because I only attended to the sense in writing it. I have the labouring oar in the House of Commons. I shall write again soon. In the meantime you must write by return of post, if you wish any other distribution of the money.

I am on a Committee every day from ten to four.

561.

_To Lord Sheffield._

Lausanne, April 9th, 1791.

I _will_ say no more, because I can say no more on the unfortunate subject of Buriton, the most unlucky because the least expected of all my worldly embarrassments. Tell me fairly whether you suspect any secret management, or any legal chicanery, &c., on the side of the purchasers. If they are sincere and willing as ourselves, what hinders that we should give possession, we of the land and they of the money, and let the Master in Chancery make his report whenever it may amuse him? If such a scheme be impracticable, goad, I conjure you, the lawyers and fix a day, a definite day, a short day for the final conclusion, for my release from a state of suspense which keeps me hanging between heaven and earth.

You say nothing of what rent may be due from Newhaven, and of the payment of my wretched legacy. My repairs and improvements have now run away with a great deal of money, and my cash account with the Goslings has seldom been so low. It would, however, suffice to pay for the Madeira which is arrived in perfect health: but with my usual accuracy I have lost the account.

After mature consideration I accept your terms of £250 annuity and four thousand mortgage with the security which you propose; the former on some farms at Sheffield (doubtless of a more ample produce), the latter on the Newhaven estate, the imperfect title of which it will not become me to dispute. Notwithstanding your recent discovery of a fee farm rent, I think you will still have a very good bargain; but if you are obstinate, you may strike off ten pounds a year from the Annuity, for your chance of getting back any money would be a very poor one indeed.--With regard to the writings, I have no objection to the method which you propose of lodging them in Batt's hands. I do not recollect anything more on the subject of business, since I have already approved of the distribution of the purchase money. £8000 on Buriton, £4000 in Yorkshire, the loose residue, if any, in the funds. We may therefore proceed to more interesting and less interested topics.

*First, of my health; It is now tolerably restored: my legs are still weak, but the animal in general is in a sound and lively condition; and we have great hopes from the fine weather and the Pyrmont waters. I most sincerely wished for the presence of Maria, to embellish a ball which I gave the 29th of last month to all the best company, natives and foreigners, of Lausanne, with the aid of the Severys, especially of the mother and son, who directed the œconomy, and performed the honours of the _Fête_. It opened about seven in the evening; the assembly of men and women was pleased and pleasing, the music good, the illumination splendid, the refreshments profuse: at twelve, one hundred and thirty persons sat down to a very good supper; at two, I stole away to bed, in a snug corner; and I was informed at breakfast, that the remains of the Veteran and young troops, with Severy and his sister at their head, had concluded the last dance about a quarter before seven. This magnificent entertainment has gained me great credit; and the expence was more reasonable than you can easily imagine. This was an extraordinary event, but I give frequent dinners; and in the summer I have an assembly every Sunday evening. What a wicked wretch! says Lady Pantile.

I cannot pity you for the accumulation of business, as you ought not to pity _me_, if I complained of the tranquillity of Lausanne: we suffer or enjoy the effects of our own choice. Perhaps you will mutter something of our not being born for ourselves, of public spirit (I have formerly read of such a thing), of private friendship, for which I give you full and ample credit, &c. But your parliamentary operations, at least, will probably expire in the month of June; and I shall refuse to sign the Newhaven conveyance, unless I am satisfied that you will execute the Lausanne visit this summer. On the 15th of June, suppose lord, lady, Maria, and maid, (poor Louisa!) in a post coach, with Etienne on horseback, set out from Downing-street, or Sheffield-place, cross the Channel from Brighton to Dieppe, visit the national assembly, buy caps at Paris, examine the ruins of Versailles, and arrive at Lausanne, without danger or fatigue, the second week in July; you will be lodged pleasantly and comfortably, and will not perhaps despise my situation. A couple of months will roll, alas! too hastily away: you will all be amused by new scenes, new people; and whenever Maria and you, with Severy, mount on horseback to visit the country, the Glaciers, &c., My lady and myself shall form a very quiet tête-à-tête at home. In September, if you are tired, you may return by a direct or indirect way; but I only desire that you will not make the plan impracticable by grasping at too much. In return, I promise you a visit of three or four months in the autumn of ninety-two: you and my booksellers are now my principal attractions in England. You had some right to growl at hearing of my supplement in the papers: but Cadell's indiscretion was founded on a loose hint which I had thrown out in a letter, and which in all probability will never be executed. Yet I am not totally idle. Adieu.*

562.

_Lord Sheffield to Edward Gibbon._

Downing Street, 21st April, 1791.

[Sidenote: A BARGAIN WITH THE SHEFFIELDS.]

At length the Buriton business is almost concluded, and all your and my cares on that subject will be at an end, the moment I receive the Deeds which were sent to you early this morning for signature. The Masters in Chancery are the Devils, and I should not have expressed myself much more amiably of the Master of the Rolls, if he had not been at last particularly attentive to my exhortations to dispatch. All difficulties are at end, the conveyances, &c., engrossed, and one part of them are gone to you, because Lord Stawell's Lawyers wish you to sign that part, notwithstanding they drew up the Power of Attorney which you signed to enable me.

At the same time are gone the Deeds which convey Newhaven from Ed. Gibbon to Lord Sheffield, reciting the £4000 on Mortgage and the annuity of £250 per Ann. The conveyance is to J. T. Batt to the use of Lord Sheffield. Batt is Trustee; and the Deeds, when returned with the other writings belonging to the Estate, must be left in his hands as such, not only on account of the Mortgage of £4000, but also because the Newhaven Estate is made subject to the Annuity, notwithstanding a greater proportion of the Sheffield Estate is chargeable with it than is necessary to pay the whole. It was unnecessary to send you the Deed which grants the Annuity of £250 chargeable on Sheffield and Newhaven. It is signed by me and left in Batt's hands. He has perused and examined the drafts of the Conveyance and of the grant of the annuity before they were engrossed.

There are four deeds sent for your signature--and with them directions as to the parts where to be signed, which parts are marked with pencil. It is also mentioned that you should have English witnesses. Frank North might be one, and I suppose you may find at any time another fit English witness at Lausanne. You will despatch as soon as you can and return the writings immediately. If you give me a line of notice as soon as they are signed it will be still better, and will forward, and in reality conclude, matters.

[Sidenote: SNUGNESS OF GIBBON'S AFFAIRS.]

We have not been able to get any intelligence of the conveyance of the Newhaven Estate to your Grandfather, which is somewhat strange. I mentioned in my last that I had given directions for forming the conveyance from you to me, previous to the discovery of a Quit-rent, and that I thought you had better pay me the value of that Quit-rent than alter the even sum of £4000 Mortgage or £250 annuity. I must therefore take 28 years' purchase for the Quit-rent, and I flatter myself you are too much of a gentleman and too little of the Jew to make any objection. You have a good bargain, and I would sooner have seen you at the Devil than have given you so much, if you did not seem to be under my direction in these matters.

I almost envy you the snugness of your affairs. You will be a rich fellow. What a damned long letter on such matter, to make things easy to the meanest capacities.

Perhaps I may write soon on the Russian War, the Slave Trade, and the Corn Bill. The first has been an extraordinary business. On the second I was a considerable prop to good sense against nonsense and the most eloquent declamation on humanity. What think you of shutting the Ports of the West Indies? It would not have succeeded better than the experiment at Boston. I have beaten Pitt 3 times on the Corn Bill.

563.

_Lord Sheffield to Edward Gibbon._

Downing Street, 13th May, 1791.

Nothing could be more unfair and insidious than the proposition that you would come here in 1792, if we would go to you in 1791. It raised the whole Family, and everybody one knows, against me. It raised me against myself. It is true in a weak season, when we supposed you poorly, I exhibited a disposition to go to you, but when you recovered _insurmountable_ difficulties occurred. The Great Navigation in Sussex which is at its crisis depends on me, and a thousand other matters, besides expence when I have not got a shilling to spare. However, the Idea is entertained. I am much conciliated, as I should be to anything that binds you to a compact to be here in 1792. I cannot prevail on myself at once to say--I will, altho' I apprehend I must. Therefore say by the return of the post, whether you can accommodate the Louisa, if she should make a fifth in the Coach with My Lady, her woman, Maria and myself. I suppose she might, if necessary, sleep with Maria or the Woman. I have not mentioned this letter to the Ladies, but Maria is anxious that Louisa should go, and we think she is at an age to receive improvement even in a visit for a couple of months. I cannot go sooner than the beginning of July, and I must be here early in October. Desire our Friend De Severy to write detail to me on the subject of the journey.

It just occurred to write this letter. A Committee is waiting for me, but to make you amends, I send you Woodfall's account of one of the most extraordinary debates in Parliament.[163]

Yours ever, S.

[163] This was probably the debate of May 6, 1791, when Burke declared that, even if loss of friends were the consequence, he would still, with his latest breath, exclaim, "Fly from the French Constitution!" "There is no loss of friends," said Fox. "Yes, there is," retorted Burke. "I know the price of my conduct! I have indeed made a great sacrifice: I have done my duty, though I have lost my friend." Burke's speech was made on the Quebec Bill, and Lord Sheffield moved, and was supported by Fox, that dissertations on the French Constitution were not pertinent to the question before the House. Fox's panegyric on the French Revolution, to which Burke's speech was a reply, was delivered on the treaty between Russia and the Porte.

564.

_To Lord Sheffield._

Lausanne, May 18th, 1791.

[Sidenote: DANGER OF RUSSIAN WAR.]

*I write a short letter, on small paper, to inform you, that the various deeds, which arrived safe and in good condition, have this morning been sealed, signed, and delivered, in the presence of respectable and well known English witnesses,* though out of compliment to you I inserted one Irish evidence, a protégé of Sarah's, and considering all things a very pretty gentleman. I am very well behaved to him. *To have read the aforesaid acts, would have been difficult; to have understood them, impracticable. I therefore signed them with my eyes shut, and in that implicit confidence, which we freemen and Britons are humbly content to yield to our lawyers and ministers. I hope, however, most seriously hope, that every thing has been carefully examined, and that I am not totally ruined. It is not without much impatience that I expect an account of the payment and investment of the purchase-money,* and am somewhat afraid of the high charges of auctioneers and attornies. The writings well secured are delivered to a trusty carrier, who promises to begin his Journey Monday next, the 23rd instant, and to deposit them in Downing Street about a fortnight afterwards. *It was my intention to have added a new edition of my Will: but I have an unexpected call to go to Geneva to-morrow with the Severys, and must defer that business a few days, till after my return. On my return I may possibly find a letter from you, and will write more fully in answer: my posthumous work, contained in a single sheet, will not ruin you in postage. In the meanwhile, let me desire you either never to talk of Lausanne, or to execute the journey this summer; after the dispatch of public and _private_ business, there can be no real obstacle but in yourself, and if you deceive me I shall insist on the additional year's purchase for Newhaven, which I had given up in consideration of the visit. Pray do not go to War with Russia:[164] it is very foolish: I am quite angry with Pitt. Adieu.* Pray inform Mrs. G. of our conclusion and her security. I write to her this post after a long pause. I am a sad dog.

[164] In the spring of 1791 war with Russia seemed probable. Catharine had in the preceding year concluded peace with Sweden, and the winter campaign of 1790-91 placed the Ottoman Porte at her mercy. Great Britain endeavoured to secure favourable terms for Turkey, and made active preparations to enforce her efforts. The king's message to the House of Commons (March 28, 1791) asked for an increase to the navy in order to bring pressure to bear on Russia. But Great Britain was without allies. Prussia was irresolute, Sweden exhausted, Denmark unwilling to quarrel with Russia, Austria intent on recovering the Austrian Netherlands. Her protest was, however, not without effect. Catharine refused to recognize Great Britain as a mediator or to recede from her demands. But she made peace with Turkey at Galacz in August, 1791, restoring all her conquests except Otchakov and the surrounding territory between the Bug and the Dniester. The strong opposition to war with Russia doubtless influenced Pitt. But it is said that the opinion of the Dutch Admiral, Kingsbergen, that Sebastopol, not Otchakov, was the real danger to Turkey, finally changed his view. The Duke of Leeds resigned the Secretaryship of State on the question, and was succeeded by H. Dundas.

565.

_To his Stepmother._

Lausanne, May 18th, 1791.

DEAR MADAM,

*As much as I am accustomed to my own sins, I am shocked, really shocked, when I think of my long and most inexcusable silence; nor do I dare to compute how many months I have suffered to elapse without sending a single line--(Oh shame! shame!)--to the best and dearest of my friends, who indeed has been very seldom out of my thoughts. I have sometimes imagined, that if the opportunities of writing occurred less frequently, they would be seized with more diligence; but the unfortunate departure of the post twice every week encourages procrastination, and each short successive delay is indulged without scruple, till the whole has swelled to a tremendous account. I will try, alas! to reform; and although I am afraid that writing grows painful to you, I have the confidence to solicit a _speedy line_, to say that you love and forgive me. After a long experience of the unfeeling doubts and delays of the law, you will probably soon hear from Lord S. that the Buriton transaction is at last concluded, and I hope you will be satisfied with the full and firm security of your annuity. That you may long continue to enjoy it is the first and most sincere wish of my heart.

[Sidenote: LIKE ADAM ALONE IN PARADISE.]

In the placid course of our lives, at Lausanne and Bath, we have few events to relate, and fewer changes to describe; but I indulge myself in the pleasing belief that we are both as well and as happy as the common order of Nature will allow us to expect. I should be satisfied, had I received from time to time some indirect, but agreeable information of the general state of your health. For myself, I have no complaint, except the Gout; and though the visits of my old enemy are longer, and more enfeebling, they are confined to my feet and knees; the pain is moderate, and my imprisonment to my chamber, or my chair, is much alleviated by the daily kindness of my friends. I wish it were in my power to give you an adequate idea of the conveniency of my house, and the beauty of my garden: both of which I have improved at a considerable expence since the death of poor Deyverdun. But the loss of a friend is indeed irreparable, and I sometimes feel, that like Adam I am alone in Paradise. Were I ten years younger, I might possibly think of a female companion; but the choice is difficult, the success doubtful, the engagement perpetual, and at fifty-four a man should never think of altering the whole System of his life and habits. The disposal of Buriton, and the death of my aunt Hester, who has left me a small estate in Sussex, makes me very easy in my worldly affairs; my income is equal to my expence, and my expence is adequate to my wishes. You may possibly have heard of litterary projects which are ascribed to me by the public without my knowledge: but it is much more probable that I have closed the account: and though I shall never lay aside the pleasing occupations of study, you may be assured that I have no serious settled thoughts of a new work. Next year I shall meditate, and I trust shall execute, a visit to England, in which the Belvidere is one of my powerful loadstones. I often reflect, with a painful emotion, on the imperious circumstances which have thrown us at such a distance from each other.

In the moving picture of the World, you cannot be indifferent to the strange Revolution which has humbled all that was high, and exalted all that was low, in France. The irregular and lively spirit of the Nation has disgraced their liberty, and instead of building a free constitution, they have only exchanged Despotism for Anarchy. This town and country are crowded with noble Exiles; and we sometimes count in an assembly a dozen princesses and dutchesses. Burke, if I remember right, is no favourite of yours; but there is surely much eloquence and much sense in his book. The prosperity of England forms a proud contrast with the disorders of France; but I hope we shall avoid the folly of a Russian War. Pitt, in this instance, seems too like his father.*

I am, My Dearest Madam, Ever most affectionately Yours, E. GIBBON.

566.

_To Lord Sheffield._

Lausanne, May 31st, 1791.

*At length I see a ray of sunshine breaking from a dark cloud. Your Epistle of the 13th arrived this morning, the 25th instant, the day after my return from Geneva; it has been communicated to Severy; we now believe that you intend a visit to Lausanne this summer, and we hope that you will execute that intention. If you are a man of honour, you shall find me one; and, on the day of your arrival at Lausanne, I will ratify my engagement of visiting the British isle before the end of the year 1792, excepting only the fair and foul exception of the Gout. You rejoyce me by proposing the addition of dear Louisa; it was not without a bitter pang that I threw her overboard, to lighten the vessel and secure the Voyage: I was fearful of Mrs. Moss, a second carriage, and a long train of difficulty and expence, which might have ended in blowing up the whole scheme. But if you can bodkin the sweet creature in the coach, she will find an easy welcome at Lausanne. The first arrangements which I must make before your arrival, may be altered by your own taste, on a survey of the premises, and you will all be commodiously and pleasantly lodged. You have heard a great deal of the beauty of my house, garden, and situation; but such are their intrinsic value, that, unless I am much deceived, they will bear the test even of exagerated praise. From my knowledge of your Lordship, I have always entertained some doubt how you would get through the _French_ society of a Lausanne winter: but I am satisfied that, exclusive of friendship, your summer visits to the banks of the Leman Lake will long be remembered as one of the most agreeable periods of your life; and that you will scarcely regret the amusement of a Sussex Committee of Navigation in the dog days. You ask for details: what details? a map of France and a post-book are easy and infallible guides. If the Ladies are not afraid of the Ocean, you are not ignorant of the passage from Brighton to Dieppe: Paris will then be in your direct road; and even allowing you to look at the Pandæmonium, the ruins of Versailles, &c., a fortnight diligently employed will clear you from Sheffield-place to Gibbon Castle. What can I say more?

As little have I to say on the subject of my worldly matters, which seems now, Jupiter be praised, to be drawing towards a final conclusion; since, when people part with their money, they are indeed serious. I do not perfectly understand the ratio of the precise sum which you have poured into Gosling's reservoir, but suppose it will be explained in a general account;* as that reservoir is unproductive, I hope the Yorkshire mortgage will soon be in motion. I had not a doubt of the Law's (in either sense of the word) delaying to the last moment the payment of Hester's paltry legacy, but I conceive that you are in possession of Newhaven, and that you have obtained for me the year's or at least the nine months' rent to which I must have been entitled last Lady-day. I do not perfectly understand whether my share of Hug, or to what amount, has actually been paid. By this time you must have received the Deeds.--_Act._

[Sidenote: BURKE A RATIONAL MADMAN.]

*You have been very dutiful in sending me, what I have always desired, a cut Woodfall on a remarkable debate; a debate, indeed, most remarkable! Poor Burke is the most eloquent and rational madman that I ever knew. I love Fox's feelings, but I detest the political principles of the man, and of the party. Formerly you detested them more strongly, during the American War, than myself. I am half afraid that you are corrupted by your unfortunate connections. Should you admire the National assembly, we shall have many an altercation, for I am as high an Aristocrate as Burke himself; and he has truly observed, that it is impossible to debate with temper on the subject of that cursed Revolution. In my last excursion to Geneva I frequently saw the Neckers, who by this time are returned to their Summer residence of Copet. He is much restored in health and spirits, especially since the publication of his last book,[165] which has probably reached England. Both parties who agree in abusing him, agree likewise that he is a man of virtue and Genius: but I much fear that the purest intentions have been productive of the most baneful consequences. Our military men, I mean the French, are leaving us every day for the camp of the princes at Worms, and support what is called ----[166] representation. Their hopes are sanguine; I will not answer for their being well grounded: it is _certain_, however, that the emperor had an interview the 19th instant with the Count of Artois at Mantua; and the Aristocrates talk in mysterious language of Spain, Sardinia, the empire, four or five armies, &c. They will doubtless strike a blow this summer: May it not recoil on their own heads! Adieu. Embrace our female travellers. A short delay.*

[165] Probably his treatise _De l'administration de M. Necker, par lui-même_.

[166] The words in the original letter are torn out by the seal.

567.

_To Lord Sheffield._

Lausanne, June 12th, 1791.

*I now begin to see you all in real motion, swimming from Brighton to Dieppe, according to my scheme, and afterwards threading the direct road which you cannot well avoid, to the turbulent capital of the late Kingdom of France. I know not what more to say, or what further instructions to send; they would indeed be useless, as you are travelling through a country which has been sometimes visited by Englishmen: only this let me say, that, in the midst of Anarchy, the roads were never more secure than at present. As you will wish to assist at the national assembly, you will act prudently in obtaining from the French in London a good recommendation to some leading member; Cazalès,[167] for instance, or the Abbé Maury.[168] I soon expect from Elmsly a cargo of books; but you may bring me any new pamphlets of exquisite flavour, particularly the last works of John Lord Sheffield, which the dog has always neglected to send. You will have time to write once more, and you must endeavour, as nearly as possible, to mark the day of your arrival. You may come either by Lyons and Geneva, by Dijon and Les Rousses, or by Dole and Pontarlière. The post will fail you on the edge of Switzerland, and must be supplied by hired horses. I wish you to make your last day's journey easy, so as to dine upon the road, and arrive by tea-time.* I rejoyce in the approaching conclusion of my affairs, though the residue of the purchase money has suffered and will suffer most heavy evacuations.

*The pulse of the contre-Revolution beats high, but I cannot send you any certain facts. Adieu. I want to _hear_ My lady abusing me for never writing. _All_ the Severys are very impatient.

Notwithstanding the high premium, I do not absolutely wish you drowned. Besides all other cares, I must marry and propagate, which would give me a great deal of trouble.*

[167] Jacques Marie de Cazalès (1752-1805), whom Madame Roland called, for his ability, the "astonishing" Cazalès, was an eloquent defender of the Monarchy. Suspected of conniving at the king's escape from Paris in June, 1791, he was arrested, and was possibly in prison at the time when Gibbon's letter reached Lord Sheffield. After the capture of Louis XVI. at Varennes, he left France, and, as an _émigré_, took part in the campaign of 1792.

[168] The Abbé Maury (1746-1817), one of the supporters of the Church and the Monarchy in the States-General, left France in September, 1791, after the dissolution of the Constituent Assembly. Made by Napoleon Archbishop of Paris (1810-14), he was deprived of episcopal authority by the Pope, who had previously given him a cardinal's hat. At the fall of the Empire he was summoned to Rome, and confined for some months in the Castle of St. Angelo.

568.

_Lord Sheffield to Edward Gibbon._

Downing Street, Tuesday, 14th June, 1791.

Your letter of May 31 was received last Friday. As soon as this letter is finished the Family is to set out for Sheffield Place, and from thence we shall move as soon as we can towards Lausanne. We are pressed to pass through France before the Confederation or Commemoration of the 14th July, and if possible we shall be with you before that day. I have much to do in Sussex, but I shall hasten. I shall wish to pass one day at Rouen and three or four at Paris. I hope to quit Sheffield Place about the 28th instant. We expect the Borders of France to be troubled, perhaps Besançon may not be perfectly tranquil. Take care to send a few lines to meet me at the Post Office, Paris.

Louisa is delighted with your _empressement_ to see her. All My Lady's sagacious friends have assured her that it is absolutely necessary to have two men servants on our Travels. Etienne was dismissed six months ago on account of his indecorous conduct towards My Lady's woman. A Swiss was hired in his place, in Livery, another is now hired out of Livery, both of them of the neighbourhood of Lausanne. One may be dismissed when we arrive there, if we can get a place for him.

The chief disagrement I experience is a disappointment about your £4000 mortgage in Yorkshire. The owner sold the Estate. However I insist on compensation, he having engaged the money. I am in treaty about a mortgage near my Yorkshire Estate for £3000. I must do the best I can with the other £1000. It will be extravagant to buy into the Stocks. They never will be higher, and are likely to be lower. If I could get £1000 Subscriptions in the Lewes Navigation at 5 pr. Ct., it would be well secured and well paid, but money is too plentiful; I fear I shall not be able to get it.

[Sidenote: LORD SHEFFIELD AN ANTI-DEMOCRAT.]

You exceedingly mistake my Politicks. I am as great an Anti-Democrat as Mr. Burke, and so are most of the party; but you are deceived by Burke's speeches. I hold the French proceedings in such abhorrence and dislike as an English Politician, that I shall be in danger of the Lantern.

Remember us with many thanks to de Severy.

Yours ever, S.

The Ladies are impatient for their voyage. The writings were not received till three days ago, and it is impossible for the greatest Philosopher to have signed them with a greater degree of ignorance, &c. Especially those relating to Buriton I must carry to you again.

569.

_Lord Sheffield to Edward Gibbon._

Sheffield House, 27th June, 1791.

Your letter of the 12th June was graciously received two days ago, and notwithstanding the intelligence we received yesterday morning of the Royal Escape,[169] and notwithstanding the probable confusion and warfare that will take place in France, the ardour of the Ladies to go to you is redoubled. My Lady seems scared lest prudence should induce me to halt for intelligence, and cannot endure a delay even for the packet, which will sail on Saturday. No, we must set out after dinner for Brighton, and sail from thence to-morrow for Dieppe. This I should not have undertaken if I had not received a letter from Pelham dated Paris, two days after the elopement, which mentioned that on the second day all was quiet, the National Assembly cool and united, but that he should take care a letter should meet me at Rouen, which would inform me whether it would be advisable to pass thro' Paris. He thinks it may not be easy to get from thence. It is probable I shall be glad to avoid Paris, if so, I may be at Lausanne in a very short time, especially if I find a tolerable road from Rouen to Fontainebleau. From thence I have travelled to Dijon and Besançon to Lausanne. I think there is most danger of difficulty in passing thro' a considerable garrison such as Besançon. If we can approach you we shall wish to arrive in the evening at the time you mention.

Finally, such an undertaking just at this moment will not allow us to be deemed by our acquaintance _compos mentis_, but we are going to you and may arrive sooner than this letter. I shall write from Rouen however, where I shall stop one day at least.

Yours ever, S.

Alas! just after I had finished I heard the King and Queen are captives. I must go to Rouen before I determine, but I incline to a rapid pass thro' France.

[169] On Saturday, June 25, news reached London that Louis XVI., his wife and children, had on the previous Tuesday escaped from Paris. They travelled with a passport made out for the Baroness de Korff, obtained at the request of M. Simolin, the Russian Ambassador, who was ignorant of the use to which it was to be put. The king intended to reach Montmédy, and there place himself under the protection of the Marquis de Bouillé, who commanded the army of the Meuse and Moselle. At Ste. Menehould the fugitives were recognized by the Postmaster Drouet, arrested at Varennes, and brought back to Paris.

570.

_To Lord Sheffield._

Lausanne, July 1st, 1791.

[Sidenote: FLIGHT AND ARREST OF LOUIS XVI.]

*In obedience to your orders, I direct a flying shot to Paris, though I have not any thing particular to add, excepting that our impatience is increased in the _inverse ratio_ of time and space. Yet I almost doubt whether you have passed the sea. The news of the King of France's escape must have reached you before the 28th, the day of your departure, and the prospect of strange unknown disorder may well have suspended your firmest resolves. The Royal animal is again caught, and all may probably be quiet. I was just going to exhort you to pass through Brussels and the confines of Germany; a fair Irishism, since if you read this, you are already at Paris. The only reasonable advice which now remains, is to obtain, by means of Lord Gower,[170] a sufficiency, or even superfluity, of forcible passports, such as leave no room for cavil on a jealous frontier. The frequent intercourse with Paris has proved that the best and shortest road, instead of Besançon, is by Dijon, Dole, Les Rousses, and Nyon.* As my larder cannot always be furnished for the doubtful day of your arrival, I must desire that you would make your first appearance, not at dinner time, but at the hour of tea; you may dine at Rolle or Morges. *Adieu. I warmly embrace the ladies. It would be idle now to talk of business.*

[170] The ambassador at Paris.

571.

_Lord Sheffield to Edward Gibbon._

Paris, Tuesday, 5th July, 1791.

[Sidenote: THE CRISIS IN PARIS.]

Neither the Royal Flight or Capture prevented or even interrupted for a day our travels to the Historian. We passed two nights at sea, and we have passed two nights at the Castle of Navarre with the Duke of Bouillon, near Evreux, much more to our satisfaction. Nothing could be more handsome than our reception there. I was glad of the opportunity of shewing to the Ladies, the style of living of one of the first men in France, and at one of the finest places. I came here last night. I have already had an opportunity of good intelligence. Matters of the highest consequence are _this moment_ in agitation.[171] _They_ are determined to get rid of the King, but how, is not so easy a business. Many of his enemies are sorry he was retaken, because they know not what to do with him (a Council will be appointed). I believe they would be glad to let him go, if they did not fear the Parisian mobility. The Judges agree that the Gardes de Corps,[172] who acted as couriers, cannot be tried. They will be suffered to depart whenever it will be safe. As to the Queen, when I said I was surprised they did not send her home (that is to the Pais Autrichiennes) to avoid mischief to her Person, and also to avert a disagreeable demand, I was told there is no doubt that she will be allowed to go if she pleases. De Bouillé[173] has emitted an invitation to Officers and Soldiers to join him. His letter to the National Assembly might have been well enough for a Captain of Grenadiers, but it does not smell of the grand Politician. I understand that scarce a General Officer remains with the Army on the Austrian Border towards ----, and that numbers, even whole corps of officers, have deserted, but this I know not with any precision. I think we may go from hence in 4 or 5 days. Matters are coming to a Crisis--therefore you may be sure I shall not stay long lest we should be stopped and not suffered to go from this city, but I expect an introduction to Cazalès, La Fayette, and some others.

Lausanne has the honour of containing Lady Webster[174] before this time. People are apt to spoil her. I desire you will not, because it gives me a great deal of trouble to set her right afterwards. Milady writes to her. She and her daughters are well and entertained. We are just come from the Comédie Francoise.

Yours ever, S.

I shall not write again before our departure.

[171] On June 26, 1791, a plan was presented to the National Assembly for the prosecution of the king and of those who assisted him in his escape. After a warm debate, commissioners were nominated to inquire into the events of June 20-21, and three commissioners were separately appointed to take the signed declarations of the king and queen. The proposal to distinguish the case of the king and queen from that of inferior persons was unsuccessfully opposed by Robespierre.

[172] The three Gardes du Corps, brought back on the top of the royal carriage, bound with ropes, were MM. de Valery, de Moustier, and de Malden. The two former published accounts of the flight to Varennes.

[173] François Claude Aymour, Marquis de Bouillé (1739-1800), born at the Château de Cluzel in Auvergne, died at London in 1800. He had distinguished himself both in the Seven Years' War and in the American War of Independence. In 1790 he became governor of the provinces of les Trois Évêchés, Alsace, Lorraine, and Franche Comté, and commander-in-chief of the army of the Meuse, Sarre-et-Moselle, with his head-quarters at Metz. His letter to the National Assembly was written, as he states, to divert the wrath of the Assembly from the king to himself. In it he assumed the whole responsibility for the affair. His letter, says M. Feuillet de Conches (_Louis XVI., Marie Antoinette et Madame Elisabeth_, vol. iv. pp. 469-471), produced a deep impression throughout Europe. Three autograph letters, addressed by Louis XVI., and the Kings of Sweden and Prussia, to the marquis, are there quoted. After the arrest of Louis XVI. at Varennes he fled to Coblentz, summoning officers and men to join him. He served in the army of the Prince of Condé in 1791, and in that of the Duke of York in 1793. He afterwards retired to England, where his _Mémoires sur la Révolution_ were published in 1797.

[174] Elizabeth Vassall, a West Indian heiress, married, May 27, 1786, Sir Godfrey Webster, Bart., of Battle Abbey, Sussex. She was divorced from her husband on July 3, 1797, and, three days afterwards, married the third Lord Holland.

572.

_Lord Sheffield to Edward Gibbon._

Paris, July 8th, 1791.

The system of getting rid of the King will not do. The night before last the principal men of the Committees, the Chiefs of the National Assembly, about 100 in number, met, and after a considerable debate, they resolved that the Constitution should be maintained, and that the person of the King is inviolable. Only two of them, Messrs. Dumont and Petier, were of a different opinion, and they argued for a tryal. La Clos,[175] the friend of the Duke of Orleans, the night preceding the Jacobins, vigorously insisted on a Tyral and a Regency, but it is known that a great majority of the National Assembly wish to restore the King and to put him in the situation he held before his flight, and to give him a Council. The Queen not being a part of the Constitution, they do not intend to take any notice of her; much management is necessary to keep the people quiet, and the Chiefs dare not as yet bring forward moderate measures. The National Guard wish to get rid of the King. The resolution I mention in the beginning of this letter is intended to be kept secret as much as possible for the present. The measure will be carried with some difficulty. I have scarce a moment. On Monday we attend the Apotheosis of Voltaire.[176] On Tuesday next we go to the National Assembly for the last time (having the President's Box), and on Wednesday we talk of setting out for La Suisse, but I must stop a day or two at Dijon and one or two perhaps at Besançon. We suppose the Websters lost, because we have not heard from them.

Yours, S.

[175] François Choderlos de Laclos (1741-1803), novelist, poet, and soldier, was at this time editor of the _Journal des amis de la Constitution_. He helped Brissot to draw up the petition for the deposition of Louis XVI., July 17, 1791.

[176] Voltaire died at Paris in May, 1778. His body, lest burial should be refused, was carried to the Abbey of Scellières. Thence the remains were brought, Sunday, July 10, 1791, to the ruins of the Bastille, and placed the next day in the Pantheon.

573.

_Lord Sheffield to Edward Gibbon._

Paris, 13th July, 1791.

[Sidenote: LORD SHEFFIELD AT THE JACOBINS.]

We are going at 8 o'clock this morning to the Assembly, lest we should be too late for places to hear the report and debate on the King's Flight.[177] It is not likely to finish in one day, but we are not disposed to stay more than 2 or 3 days longer on any account. It will be proper to remain here a day or two just to see whether they really will cut one another's throats. I do not expect it. It does not seem to be their genius to do more than Fishwomen, to scratch and tear one or two to pieces in a cattish fury. Since my last the Democratic _enragé_ seems to have gained ground. I have been placed high on a chair next the President at the Jacobins, having been introduced by Noailles as a good English Patriot amidst much _applaudissement_. Brissot de Warville[178] made (as _on m'a dit_) the greatest speech that ever was heard. It was well calculated to inflame Frenchmen, but he forgot to use any argument, and utterly omitted to shew that the King had committed any crime against the Law, and finished by moving that the King should be tried. The word _enragé_ does not half describe a French Democrate. The modern men think the speech has made a great impression, and think matters are not in so good train for the King as they were. I have not a moment to say more than that I have seen men and things to great advantages, and I shall write again.

Yours, S.

[177] On Wednesday, July 13, 1791, the report of the seven committees on the affairs of the king was read before the National Assembly, detailing the circumstances of the king's escape, and stating the manner in which, by the laws of the Constitution, the Assembly should conduct itself towards the king. Practically, the report was in favour of the inviolability of the king's person. In this sense it was adopted on July 15, 1791, and against it was held the meeting of the Champs de Mars on July 17.

[178] J. Pierre Brissot (_de Warville_) (1754-93) was at this time a supporter of the Duc d'Orléans. He afterwards led the _Brissotins_ against the _Montagnards_, and was guillotined with the Girondists in October, 1793.

574.

_The Hon. Maria Holroyd to Edward Gibbon._

Berne, Oct. 7th, 1791.

The truth is, that I attempted to write to you, the day we arrived here, & found myself unequal to a longer account of things, than just to say--we are eighteen Leagues from Lausanne, & I have made the family lift up their hands & eyes in astonishment, by wishing to walk back that distance. I ought to express my Gratitude for all the kindness and attentions we have met with, during our stay in Switzerland, & if I was less sensible of it, I could compose a fine speech--but I can only say, I can feel, & I hope you will never find me ungrateful. Tuesday we slept at Avenches & arrived here at two o'clock on Wednesday. If you wish to know how we amused ourselves on the Road, I will tell you, by Meditation & Silence. If you wish to know what was the Subject of our Meditations I will answer for myself--Lausanne. Indeed, my Thoughts have not quitted that place, for five minutes, & I begin to wonder, whether I shall ever think of any thing else. Our horse, that had one Wooden & one broken Leg, fell down, & rather damaged a third Leg--so that, as Papa thought if any accident should happen to the fourth, we might find some difficulty in proceeding on our journey, & being rather indignant at their slow method of moving, he has dismissed them, rather too precipitately, as we are now uncertain whether we shall leave this Town to-morrow or a fortnight hence. No horses to be had at present.

Yesterday we went to the Lac de Thun--the day was very fine, & we crossed the Lake to Mr. Fischer's house, where we found his Lady and Mother. We stopped at Mr. de Mulhinen's house in our return--& saw Mad^{e}. de Mulhinen, who is a very pleasing Woman. Papa was so much pleased with the Lake that he lamented very much that he had not persuaded you & Severy to come with us there & stay two or three days. Perhaps you might have been inexorable, but I wish the other part of the scheme had been thought of a little sooner. I liked the expedition upon the lake very well, but it was not the Lake of Geneva, nor was the Boat St. J. Legard's; & yet, as there was a Lake & a Boat, there was resemblance enough, for me to make comparisons, to the disadvantage of the present time. Mr. Coxe gave Papa a Letter to Mr. Wyttenbach; he has been here, & walked about the Town with us on Wednesday evening, & has made me very happy by promising to send me a Collection of Alpine Plants. He is to take us this morning to shew us the World. Papa is gone with Mr. Fischer on horseback to see Farms. After dinner we are to go to the library, & to-morrow, if we can get horses, we shall go to Bienne. Mon^{r}. Fredennick was here this morning, & every body seems to try who shall pay most attention. I wish they would try & be disagreeable, to make me rejoice at being on my return to England. Mon^{r}. Wyttenbach is come & prevents me adding any more, than to assure you that I am your ever obliged & affec.

M. T. HOLROYD.

575.

_The Hon. Maria Holroyd to Edward Gibbon._

Strasbourgh, Thursday, Oct. 13th, '91.

[Sidenote: SAFE IN THE LAND OF LIBERTY]

I felt a strong inclination to write from Basle, but as you said, Berne _or_ Basle & not Berne _&_ Basle, I was afraid of being troublesome. However I take the first moment of my arrival at the next station from whence you desired to hear from me, to tell you we are safe in the Land of Liberty, where the People may sing _Ça ira_ all day & all night, if they like it. Friday, the day I wrote from Berne, we went to Wyttenbach's house, to see his curiosities--& he has made me _Wild_ again about Botany, by giving me a Collection of Alpine Plants--so that now, instead of admiring Nature in general, I have no eyes but for Weeds, & I have made a considerable Collection in my Journey from Lausanne here. The Advoyer came before dinner, & from his suit of Black Powdered Wig & Gold headed cane, I began to be afraid I was ill, & that the Physician was come to give his Opinion. Mr. Fischer dined with us, Mr. Fredennick came after dinner, and they went with us to the Library & walked upon the ramparts. In a part of the Ditch we saw two of the Sovereign Lords of the Pays de Vaud. Their Excellencies were very quiet and rather Rheumatic, but there were two young ones very frisky and playful.

Saturday. We were rather unfortunate in a very rainy Day--& in one of the Springs of the Carriage breaking near Arberg, which delayed us some time. If it had been a fine day, we should have been very disagreeable, but as it was impossible to go to the Island of St. Pierre[179] that day, we made up our minds very tolerably. Sunday. The Weather was very favorable, & we went upon the Island, wrote our names in Rousseau's Bed chamber, returned to Bienne to dinner, & went to Moutier the same day. Mama had an opportunity of shewing her heroism--for the last three Leagues we performed by moonlight, & Coxe describes the Road as so narrow, that one Wheel rubs against the Rocks & the other hangs over the Precipice--though this description is poetical, yet there is some foundation for it. We regretted passing thro' such picturesque scenes in the dark, but the next day the Country we passed thro' from Moutier to Basle was exactly the same. I thought after the Tour to the Glaciers, that I should think nothing equal to that part of the World, but the Valley of Munster pleased me more than anything I have seen. Tuesday, we saw the Gardens of Arlesheim, the Library & the dance of death. Mr. Ochs was the only one of Mr. Levade's friends who was at Basle--the others were both in France. The _higgledy-piggledy_ Party came to Basle on Tuesday & were very much in our way on the Road. Papa determined to go to Strasbourgh on the french side of the River, as the Horses on the other side are quite knocked up by transporting Aristocrates to Coblentz. The Craven family with their Guardians, Lord Molyneux and Mr. Nott, took all the horses at the first Post, & tho' they left Basle two hours before us, when we got to St. Louis we were obliged to wait an hour and a half, for the return of the horses--during which time we amused ourselves by walking to Huningue--which I was very glad of, as it gave me a better Idea of Scarps & Counter-Scarps, Ravelines & Bastions, than I should have had without it.

[Sidenote: STRANGE CHARM IN SWITZERLAND.]

This day's journey was rather long. We left Basle at eight o'clock & we arrived at Krafft, where we slept, at ½ past eleven--quite in despair at the dirt of the French Inns; having met with such excellent ones in Switzerland, we had quite forgot what a bad Inn was. We are just arrived here to breakfast, & expect to meet with some information as to the superiority of Navigation over Land carriage. Papa was so much out of humour with the delay, occasioned by want of horses upon the road yesterday, that he is very much inclined to take a Boat here. The people at Lausanne, judging I suppose by themselves, assured me I should forget that place by the time I got to Basle. I am at Strasburgh, which is still farther; and I can say from Experience, which is the only thing that ever convinces me, that notwithstanding the variety of Scenes that I have passed through, & the amusement I have found on the road, I _still_ regret the Terrace & the Pavillion. I do not know what strange Charm there is in Switzerland that makes everybody desirous of returning there; you know I did not go there with any prejudice in its favor. As to Mama, she owes it such a Spite for fascinating you, that she will never do it common Justice, till the Democrates have obliged you to be content with our little Island; then perhaps her obligations to them will change her sentiments.

Indeed I am ashamed of myself, to have taken up so much of your time. You will, I am afraid, repent of our Engagement, & think that reading my Letters is even more tremendous than answering them. I live in hopes, that we shall hear something of, or from, you at Coblentz. Remember us all, but me in particular, to every one of the Severy family. _Et dite à ma chère Angletine que je pense bien souvent d'elle & du dernier jour que nous avons passées ensemble._ I dread exposing even that short sentence to your criticizing eye, but I wish to shew her that, in promising to write to her, I have undertaken what I am very unequal to perform, in order to keep up some remembrance of me. I cannot bear the thoughts of being forgot by those I love. Mama desires to be most affectionately remembered to you.

Believe me, Ever sincerely & affec^y yours, MARIA T. HOLROYD.

I just find I am too late for the Post to-day, & that my Letter must wait till Saturday. To-morrow we stay here. Papa is happy in the Idea of seeing the Troops exercise.

[179] On the Island of St. Pierre, in the Lake of Bienne, J. J. Rousseau lived in 1765.

576.

_The Hon. Maria Holroyd to Edward Gibbon._

Coblentz, Oct. 21st, 1791.

Our Adventures since I wrote from Strasbourgh have been very numerous, & if every body had been equally disposed with myself to be entertained with them, they would have lost much of their unpleasant circumstances. Papa had determined to go from Strasburgh to Manheim by Rastadt; but the Inn keeper advised us to go on the other side of the Rhine, as we should find the Inns all full in Germany & the Post horses very bad. The Rain was incessant all day & had continued for two days before. We found the Roads very bad & lost our way in a large forest; quite dark; amidst many ejaculations from Mama. When we at last arrived at Girmenheim, where we were to sleep, we found the Inn quite full. A Commission was there from Manheim to keep the Rhine in order, who has heard so much lately of Liberty on both sides, that he had a mind to make the experiment, & has strayed over the neighbouring meadows, unmindful of the excellent Caution given to a Brother River--"Thames, ever while you live, keep between your banks." We were put into a small room, where a Company had just finished supper. Travellers are not often, I imagine, so unfortunate as to go that road, if I may judge from the astonishment and, I hope, admiration our Appearance caused. The Doors were opened and the Room was lined with Spectators, who gazed at us in silence for near a quarter of an hour--more to my amusement than Mama's. There was only one Room where we could sleep--& we _all_ arranged ourselves in three Beds, after having quieted some delicate scruples of Papa's, who proposed sleeping in the Coach--however by putting out the Candles nobody found it necessary to blush.

We left this charming place very early, breakfasted at Spire and arrived at Manheim early enough to see all the Lyons before dinner. I was much entertained with the Gallery of Pictures in the Elector's Palace. It was much superior to anything I had seen. The Library is very handsome. Papa went to the Play in the evening & made an acquaintance there, who he brought home with him, & talked Commerce and Agriculture, till near one in the morning. The next day we went to Mayence, & the day after saw the Castle, the Provost's house, the Cathedral, &c., and left Mayence at two o'clock in a very tolerable Boat. But the Wind was quite contrary, & it was very late when we arrived at Bingen. Mama did not take a fancy to Navigation in the least. For my part I enjoyed it very much, as the Banks of the Rhine, particularly from Bingen to Coblentz, are very picturesque. The great number of Castles made me imagine myself in the Age of Chivalry, & I almost persuaded myself I was a distressed Damsel carried away against my Will. The next thing, of course, was to expect a brave Knight to set me free, but as none made their appearance, I was obliged to quit my romantic Ideas, & my _Castles in the Air_, of which I had plenty, as well in my head, as around me. In plain English, I was much pleased with the day's journey, & Mama was pretty well reconciled to seeing Water all round her, which was at first a great grievance.

[Sidenote: COBLENTZ AND WHITE COCKADES.]

Our famous Adventures begin here. We arrived at Coblentz[180] at five o'clock last Wednesday, & found every Inn in the Town full of _Panaches blancs_. After staying three hours in the Boat, with difficulty Papa found one Room, with one Bed, without Curtains & no other furniture of any kind in it. We preferred this to sleeping in the Boat, the only alternative, & accordingly we females slept on Mattresses upon the ground. As there were no curtains it was impossible to admit Papa of the Party, & he remained all Night in the Boat. The Account that was brought us of the Room we were to sleep in, was that between forty and fifty Officers were in two Rooms at each end of ours, which opened with Folding Doors. Upon a nearer enquiry, the number was reduced between 10 & 20--but they are tolerably quiet, considering they are _Frenchmen_. Yesterday was passed enquiring for Lodgings, & by the help of the Duc de Guiche,[181] the Woman of the house was prevailed upon to give us three Garrets, perfectly unfurnished--but this we considered as charming accommodation compared to the _higgledy piggledy_ Style we had been accustomed to--but the Ground is still our Bed.

Papa has found out a great deal of amusement for himself. He was presented yesterday to the Elector,[182] Monsieur,[183] Madame, the Comte d'Artois, the P. of Condé and his Son; to-day he dined at a very large dinner at the Prince of Nassau's[184]--& is now at the Play in Mad^{e}. de Nassau's Box, who was very desirous of our Company, but Mama is not fond of _violent measures_. The Comte de Romanzov[185] is here, Ambassador to the Princes from the Empress Cat. The Bishop of Arras[186] is not here; but the Duc de Guiche is every thing that is delightful, & Papa has not been at a loss for the Bishop. Our amusements may be mentioned in very few words. We have seen the citadel. We go from here early to-morrow morning--in our Boat. The Weather is very unfavorable to us. Only that you might justly make the Observation, "If you are sensible of your fault, why do you continue to offend?" I would apologize for the length of my Letter. But while you allow me to write to you, I do not think I have quite left Lausanne--& I never know how to leave off. Distribute our Love and comp^{ts} properly.

Believe me Ever affec. yours, MARIA T. HOLROYD.

I forgot to say we found our Letters here. Mama desires her Love to Severy & many thanks for his Letter. I have taken a great deal of pains to persuade her to write to him; but she has not resolution enough to take up her pen. I must whisper to you we were disappointed at not hearing a few lines from you.

[180] After the meeting of the Emperor of Austria and the King of Prussia at Pilnitz, Coblentz became the rallying-point of the _émigrés_--"a small extra-national Versailles: a Versailles _in partibus_."

[181] The family of Guiche were descended from _la belle Corisande_, who, left a widow at twenty-six by the death of her husband, the Comte de Guiche, became the mistress of Henry IV., then only King of Navarre. The Duc de Guiche (afterwards Duc de Grammont) married, in 1779, a daughter of the Duchesse de Polignac, and to her interest he owed his place as captain of the Villeroy Company of the Gardes du Corps. He was also colonel of the _Dragons de la Reine_. The duke is a "good-natured young man" (_Lord Auckland's Journal and Correspondence_, vol. i. p. 412).

[182] Charles Theodore, Elector of Bavaria and of the Palatinate.

[183] Monsieur, the title given to the eldest brother of the reigning King of France, was the Comte de Provence, afterwards Louis XVIII. (1755-1824). Madame, his wife, was Maria Josephine Louisa, daughter of Victor Amadeus III. of Sardinia. They escaped from Paris on the same night as Louis XVI.

[184] The Prince of Nassau-Siegen sailed round the world with Bougainville (1766-69), served in the Spanish army at the siege of Gibraltar, then entered the service of the Empress Catharine, and, as an admiral, commanded the Russian fleet against Turkey and afterwards against Sweden.

[185] Count Nicholas Romanzov, son of the distinguished Russian general.

[186] Marc Hilaire de Conzie (1732-1805), Bishop of St. Omer, became, in 1769, Bishop of Arras. With his brother, who succeeded him as Bishop of St. Omer, he administered the province of Artois. He followed the Comte d'Artois in his flight to Italy, and at London was afterwards his chief political adviser. He was a friend of Madame du Deffand, who writes of him enthusiastically. The Duc de Lévis (_Souvenirs et portraits_) speaks of him less favourably: "Il ne fit que du mal à son parti."

577.

_The Hon. Maria Holroyd to Edward Gibbon._

Brussels, October 29th, 1791.

It is probable that this my fourth Letter may remain unopened in your Pocket, but I shall leave that to Fate, & only think of convincing you, that I still remember Lausanne & my promise. I like to let People know how _unreasonable_ I am, & therefore I will tell you I had faint hopes of finding a few Lines here, either written or dictated by you. I frequently ask Mama, do you think they are talking of us at Lausanne? & she generally answers--I daresay not; so I should have had a great deal of satisfaction in shewing her, that you thought so much of us as to make a _violent effort_ to tell us so. We have proceeded on our journey with great success from Coblentz to Brussells, & to-morrow go to Antwerp. We arrived here on Thursday from Louvain--the Road was so bad & the Post-horses moved in such a _Swiss_ manner, that we were four days coming from Cologne.

The first day we slept at Juliers, the second at Liège, the third at Louvain, & the fourth (as I had the _honour_ of telling you) we came to Brussells, & fortunately arrived at 'L'Imperatrice,' the only Hotel where there was a single Room unoccupied, just as the Princesse de Salms was moving off--& took possession of her apartments with great satisfaction, as we expected Coblenz accomodations.

[Sidenote: THE SIGHTS OF BRUSSELS.]

We stayed but one night at Cologne, as the Maréchal de Castries was not there, & the Town possessed no other Charms to tempt us to stay, for it is the most dismal place I have seen. The Maréchal is here, & Papa has had a long conference with him. Luckily for us, Papa has neither met with a Quarter Master nor a Commercial man, nor a Farmer here, so we have seen a great deal and been very much amused. We saw the Palace of the Archduchess, a league out of Town, yesterday--& it is fitted up with more Taste than any thing we have seen in our travels. The rest of our time has been spent in Churches, the Arsenal, & some good Collections of Pictures. I have not time to be _prolix_ in my narration, which you will perhaps not be sorry for, as you are not as fond of a long letter as I am. Mama is pretty well, but will not be sorry to find herself at her own fire side again.

Remember us to those who remember our existence--you will not have much trouble, for I suppose you will only deliver the message to yourself--I suspect nobody else of thinking of us. Louisa desires I will not forget her best Comp^{ts} to _M. Mentrond_; she does not choose to suppose he can _forget her_. I expect to hear a great deal of _Mrs. Wood_--or if any body else has supplied her place in your _heart_. When you do write, if such an unlikely event should ever take place, pray tell me something of everybody; I shall like to see the names of those I was acquainted with, & while I read y^{r} letter, shall fancy myself at Lausanne.

Believe me, Ever sincerely y^{rs}, MARIA T. HOLROYD.

I write in such haste that you must excuse faults of Style, Writing, &c.

578.

_Lord Sheffield to Edward Gibbon._

Calais, 5th Nov., 1791.

After various and sundry embarrassments, here we are safe. The pleasure of the visit being over and the sorrow of departure come on, it naturally occurred in aid of my concern what a damned Fool I was to undertake such an operation. To correct such cogitation, the _distractions_ of the Rhine were some relief. The state of its neighbourhood is at this time very interesting. It was curious to find the Princes and prime Nobility of France thankfull to be allowed to exist on a small angle formed by the Moselle and the Rhine. An army of officers, but not a common man. For the sake of visiting the Garrisons of Alsace, I went the whole length of that Province. Levade's letters were of essential service to me. I thankfully wrote to him when I had proceeded far down the Rhine. Probably I furnished some details, with which he probably has furnished you. I know not whether I mentioned that Huninge and Brisach are in good condition. An incompleat Regiment of two battalions in each place and some Dragoons, not sufficient garrisons, but some cantoned Troops might be thrown in if required.

[Sidenote: MILITARY FORCES ON FRENCH FRONTIER.]

The Regulars at Strasburgh are 6760, including 1100 Horse and 1300 artillery. They say they have some 7000 National Guards, I doubt it. They are the best I have seen; and yet they are very poor stuff for Soldiers, and many are not cloathed. I dined with the Colonel of Carbineers, and saw the finest regiment of France in detail, and also a Swiss Regiment (Viguier), one of the best. Some of the regiments are not more soldier-like than the National Guards. The Democrates say that the officers, being Aristocrates, neglect the men on purpose, and wish the regiments to be ruined; 40 officers had quitted one regiment in Alsace. In short, only seven remained with it, including the Colonel. The Park of Artillery at Strasburgh seems very compleat. It is the second in the Kingdom. A Train is ready for 40 Battalions. The Province of Alsace is at least half Aristocrate. I passed the evening and supped at the Mayor's while at Strasburgh. He and his Lady (a clever dame) thorough Republicans. Observe the Regulars in the two departments of the Rhine are commanded by a German,[187] and the National Guards by a Lt.-Colonel who is a Livonian. Mirabeau's Corps seems a miserable collection; several deserters came from it while I was at Strasburgh. Finally I flattered myself there would be a compleat _Brouillerie_ between the regulars and the National Guards before I left that place. The officers of the latter are naturally disposed to be very absurd. The double pay of these troops _soldès_ is likely to have an excellent effect on the _Troupes de ligne_. I found about 100 French officers at Manterin. Towards 900 at Worms. Bouillé and a certain number are at Mayence.

Including upwards of 900 of the Gardes du Corps and near 20 Generals, there are 2500 Officers at Coblentz. I was very graciously received by the Princes. They give a supper every night, where I had the amusement of being introduced to Marshal Broglie,[188] &c., &c. The Prince of Condé and Duc de Bourbon were there on a visit. Romanzov has brought credentials and two millions of livres French from the Empress; Calonne is at Baths not far distant for his health; Burke's son had been sometime at Coblentz and was gone to England with Cazalés. Our King has written a very amicable letter to the Princes promising neutrality. I went to Cologne to see the Marshal de Castries. He was gone to Brussels, where I found him. At every inn I found 20 or 30 French Officers, the road is covered with them from Brussels to Coblentz. Nothing can be worse timed than this desertion. It is a Phrenzy and was like wildfire. They would be much better with their regiments and ready in the country to protect Friends and to avail themselves of circumstances. The most sensible of the French disapprove this migration. The officers leave their Regiments without concert with the Princes, who have not lately encouraged it. There seems to be no particular plan at present but to wait events. I unfortunately missed the Abbé Maury passing to Coblentz. I wished to know him. He is a Cardinal _in petto_. He is to have the Arch-Bishop of Sens's Hat. The regular regiments were long ago ordered to be completed to the war establishment, but on an average they have not above half their complements, and on the frontier of the Low Countries there is not an officer left except Soldiers of Fortune.

_L'Esprit de Revolution_ is not likely to flourish again for some time in the Pais Bas. I found Imperial and Electoral troops in possession of Liège, and new taxes laid to pay expenses, viz. on Dogs, Servants, bachelors, &c. The Discontents in the Austrian Netherlands are not likely to be of much consequence, a great part of the country was miserably duped and the whole thrown into such an execrable state, that none but the lowest of the creation can wish for another experiment at a Revolution. The leading party among the enemies of the House of Austria being Clergy and Aristocrates cannot coalesce easily with the Democrates of France. All the Provinces except Brabant are content. Many say a counter-revolution in France is impossible, because the Mass of the People are of one mind. Not near so much as the Austrian Netherlands were. There almost every man was a Patriot, yet the moment an army appeared there was not a struggle. The different extent of country, &c., prevent a correct comparison.

However, it may be observed that France has not a neighbour that is not unfriendly to the Revolution. I have the worst opinion of the French Army. The National Guard behaved execrably at Nancy, where alone they have been tried. We indeed were told the contrary. Some Swiss officers (Democrates) who acted against the regiment of Chateau Vieux[189] have given me details. You may be sure that the Regulars and National Guards will not agree. I am satisfied that of those officers who remain with the Regiments, almost all except soldiers of fortune are aristocrates. The soldiers do _not desert_, but they say they will go to Paris. They will enter into the _Gardes Nat. soldès_, and they go where they please; nobody can stop them. Yet with such a King the situation of the Aristocrates is very difficult. Divisions will naturally take place, the Kingdom is _en traine_ to be torn to pieces. A foreign army on the Frontier or advancing to Paris might unite them, therefore it may be better to wait events. At the same time I have not a notion that a French army would fight under its present circumstances.

[Sidenote: THE MEETING AT PILNITZ.]

It was a comfort to see the excellent Bohemian and Hungarian Infantry in the Austrian Netherlands. They are in fine order. The Treaty of the 23rd of July last between the Emperor and the King of Prussia has been well concealed.[190] It is defensive. The supposition is that Prussia is dissatisfied with England. If Russia should accede to the Treaty (which is not thought unlikely), we shall be compleatly left in the lurch.

Maria has been alert and well-disposed to your correspondence. She seemed pleased with the office, but she will expect an answer. She has saved me from writing sooner. From Brussels we went to Antwerp, Ghent, Bruges, Ostende, and Dunkirk to this place. Mi Ladi continues the same. I should have stopped more than three days at Brussels if I had not been afraid of the division of Mrs. Maynard. Say everything kind for us to the de Severy family. If Mi Ladi does not reply soon to the Fils, I shall. I found letters at Brussels by which I learn that your £2000 is accepted by the Navigation Society, that Mr. Taylor has found a mortgage for £5000 in Yorkshire. He says somewhat of its being more convenient if the money is not paid till a little time hence, and I also learn that my worldly affairs, and the Navigation, have gone on as badly as might be expected from my absence.

Remember us to Mrs. Grevers.

[187] The Baron de Luckner (1722-1794), a Bavarian, entered the French service after the Seven Years' War, was made a marshal in 1791, and guillotined in 1794.

[188] The Duc de Broglie (1718-1804), one of the most distinguished of the French generals during the Seven Years' War, was made a marshal in 1759. Louis XVI. appointed him in 1789 Minister of War; but he was among the earliest of the _émigrés_. He entered the Russian service in 1794.

[189] In August, 1790, the Swiss Regiment of Château-Vieux mutinied at Metz, demanding arrears of pay. They fired upon the National Guard, seized the regimental treasury, and killed Desilles. The outbreak was quelled by Bouillé. Of the survivors of the Regiment of Château-Vieux, twenty-three were hanged, and forty-one sent to the galleys. These galley-slaves were subsequently released; a _fête_ in their honour was decreed by the Assembly; their chains hung up as trophies in the Jacobin Club at Brest, and the men carried through Paris in triumph on April 15, 1792.

[190] The meeting of the King Frederick William of Prussia and the Emperor Leopold of Austria at Pilnitz in 1791, excited the greatest interest in Europe. It was supposed at the time that the second partition of Poland was there concerted. But no definite declaration in common seems to have been signed at that time by the two sovereigns, except an engagement to make certain representations to the French Government as to Louis XVI., the Monarchy, and the restoration of property to the _émigrés_, and to invite an European concert for the purpose of enforcing these representations.

579.

_Lord Sheffield to Edward Gibbon._

[Incomplete in original.]

The increase of Mi Ladi's woman, and apprehensions thereon, made it necessary to shorten my visits. You have heard of the little accident on board the Packet. You know dear Puff has a great dislike to cats. About midnight, midway between France and England, an hideous noise like that of a cat in the act of being strangled was heard. Puff barked and was furious. I looked out of my den, and beheld it was an human kitten that proceeded from Mrs. Maynard who was prostrate on the floor. My Lady also incumbent there. Maria contemplative and Louisa astonished. Not a creature on board the Packet but ourselves and the crew. We never know what we may come to, and above all we should not have guessed that Mi Ladi was to become a mid-wife. The mother and child could not have been better, (and have continued so,) if all the obstetric Faculty of Paris and London had attended. The mother was so well that she expressed the greatest anxiety to go with us the day following above 80 miles across the country to this place. We left her in good lodgings and in good care. The want of her prevented the Ladies from passing two days at Lord Guilford's. We found two letters from him at Dover and a dozen messages. I went and had a pleasant dinner with him, and returned at night to the Ladies.

I must now come to the unpleasant part, your business. Immediately on my return I wrote to Taylor about the £5000 mortgage. I have a letter full of disappointment. The person to be paid off has accepted low interest. He complains of being frequently thus treated. Don't bother yourself. I still hope soon to settle the business.

I wrote you a long letter from Calais.

580.

_The Hon. Maria Holroyd to Edward Gibbon._

Sheffield Place, Nov. 13th, 1791.

It is with a mixture of satisfaction & regret, that I complete my part of our engagement in writing this Letter. I find great pleasure in being returned to dear, precious Sheffield, & in telling you so, because I am sure you will be glad to hear we are safe and well; but writing to you the last letter is like a second taking leave, & tho' I have been near six weeks upon the journey from Lausanne, that moment is still as fresh in my memory as it was the next day, & the recollection of it as unpleasing. If I _dared_ I would ask to be allowed to tell you we were alive, now & then when Papa & Mama were in an idle mood, & to be allowed to _hope_ for an answer _once_ in _two_ or _three years_, in your own hand or not, as you thought proper or found convenient.

[Sidenote: DISTRESSES UPON THE SEA.]

I was very glad Papa wrote a long letter from Calais, as his information about things in general would be more interesting to you than mine, as I suppose he gave you a full account of our route from Brussells to Calais. I will only tell you that I was very much amused at Antwerp, & that I _catch_ myself, now & then, _making believe_ to know a good Picture from a bad one--having seen so many excellent ones lately. We left Calais last Sunday at 9 in the morning, having waited three days for a favorable wind, & at last in despair, set off in a perfect Calm, which prolonged our passage 24 hours--which was uncommonly tedious, & very bad luck, as our Passage from Brighton was as tiresome in coming over. However to pass the time, or to diversify the amusements of the Passage, which from the sickness of the Company would have preserved some degree of sameness, Mrs. Maynard with Mama's assistance, half way between Calais & Dover, presented the cabbin boy with a _Sea Nymph_; which with its Mother are now _as well as can be expected_, at Cap^n Sampson's house at Dover. I have heard that Sailors, when they come from a voyage, find great pleasure in talking of & recollecting Toils & Dangers past--such is our case; for we have laughed very heartily here, at our Distresses upon the Sea--which certainly at the time was no laughing matter.

We found the inhabitants of S. P. in excellent preservation & quite rejoyced to see us returned--most of them, when we left England, being convinced we should be all massacred by the National Assembly in a very short time. I hope the quiet life of this place will soon restore Mama's health & spirits, who desires her kindest remembrances to you & those we love at Lausanne. Do not let anybody forget us, for we forget nobody.

Ever much y^{rs}, M. T. HOLROYD.

581.

_Lord Sheffield to Edward Gibbon._

Sheffield Place, 13th Dec., 1791.

My Lady is getting quite well. Bratts very fond of their Swiss Tour. I have passed a week very pleasantly in London. King apparently quite well. Lally a great favourite with Lord Loughborough. He assisted at a copious dinner at Batt's, and said he never enjoyed one more interesting. He saw Lord Guilford on his passage through London, who was well pleased with him, as also is Douglas. Tell Mr. Trevor good care will be taken of him. La Comtesse de Lally seems to preserve a strict incognito. Lady Loughborough visits her. I can only collect that she doth not appear to like to go out. It is said, she has not confined her practices to Lally. Introduced him to Burke, who says the said Lally persists in his errors, and justifies all his mischievous conduct in the beginning, and the said Burke is as ridiculous and as absurd as may be imagined.[191] I have been presented to Cazalés (who resides with Burke), but I had not an opportunity of seeing anything of him. England has supplied and has been paid for 36,000 stand of arms for the Emigrants. The Corps Diplomatique at London says that Spain has sent 5 millions of livres to the Princes, and Portugal 4 millions--Berlin 2 millions.

I have expectation of seeing Batt and Lally here at Christmas. Tell Levade I have only just learned where to find his son-in-law. I hope also to see him here. People begin to talk of 3½ per Cent. for money.

[191] In his _Letter to a Member of the National Assembly_, dated January 19, 1791 (_Works_ (1855), vol. ii. pp. 546, 547), Burke spoke severely of Mounier and Lally. He took up the position of a French aristocrat, and treated the English Constitution as unsuited to France. Lally replied to him in his _Lettre au très hon. Edm. Burke, membre du parlement d'Angleterre_ (June 20, 1791), and in his _Seconde lettre_ in 1792. In these letters he defended the aims of the constitutional reformers in France.

582.

_Lord Sheffield to Edward Gibbon._

Sheffield Place, 25th Dec., 1791.

I am obliged to write to you, otherwise it would not be proper, because we are determined to starve you into a more decent deportment; not a fragment from you except the medley to Maria. She has been so zealous in your service, that she deserved more notice. The obligation to write is that a pipe of Madeira (which has travelled and is very good) is ordered to set out for Lausanne by the same consignment and way as the last, _ergo_ you must give notice to your correspondent at Basle, &c.

[Sidenote: MARRIAGE, BATTLE, FIRE, AND SCANDAL.]

Nothing extraordinary has occurred in this family since my last. My Lady is better. We expect Batt to-morrow, probably Lally, and also Mr. Levade's son-in-law, with whom I have corresponded. The Duchess of York[192] almost smothered the French Revolution in this country; Lord Cornwallis's operations[193] almost suppressed the Duchess of York, and I daresay the Duke of Richmond's fire[194] has afforded some relief to Lord Cornwallis. I should be happy to furnish you with as much scandal as possible, but I know of no event of the kind worth record, unless Lady Belmore's[195] trip to the Continent incontinently with Lord Ancrum should be deemed so, and Lady Tyrconnell's[196] Flight to Glamis Castle with Lord Strathmore. These amiable women have left behind them grown daughters. May the Mamas----

I have secured for you the famous Shakespear; Boydel[197] is satisfied that I subscribed for two setts. It is by far the finest book ever printed. I have your first number and 5 large and 5 small prints in my possession, but I shall not send them--you must come for them.

As you care nothing about the good of the nation, it is almost unnecessary to mention that the gross produce of the Permanent Revenue last year, including Land and Malt, amounted to £20,355,380 exclusive of fines, forfeitures, Taxes on Places, First Fruits, &c., amounting to £125,476 and the profit of the Lottery. The Gross Excise last year £9,054,850, encrease this year £1,200,000, of which £800,000 are old and £400,000 new Duties. The British Shipping has increased 318,522 tons since 1773. The whole tonnage of France is not much more than a fourth more. Their tonnage in 1787 was little more than a fifth of ours.

Lord Cornwallis[198] has been marching about in Tippoo's country for six weeks to prove that it was not the monsoon that obliged him to quit Seringapatam. Was it not a curious omission to have neither a minister nor a spy in the Maratta Camp, and was it not an extraordinary folly to risk an engagement for the purpose of besieging Seringapatam 9 days before there was an absolute famine in the English Camp? Abercrombie's cattle were all swept away by Tippoo's General, and neither Abercrombie nor any of his officers have a second coat or shirt.

We never had cavalry in an Indian Army before. It was the great strength of this famous army. It is all ruined.

[192] On October 1, 1791, the Duke of York was married at Berlin to the Princess Frederica of Prussia. On November 23 they were remarried, at seven o'clock in the evening, at "the Queen's house" in London.

[193] In India against Tippoo. See note at the end of the letter.

[194] Between 9 and 12 a.m. on December 21, 1791, the Duke of Richmond's house in Privy Gardens, now called Whitehall Gardens, was almost completely destroyed by fire.

[195] Henrietta, daughter of John, second Earl of Buckinghamshire (born 1762), married, in 1780, Armar Corry, Earl of Belmore, from whom she was divorced in 1792. She afterwards, April 16, 1793, married William, Earl of Ancram.

[196] The Countess of Tyrconnel, the second wife of the Earl of Tyrconnel, was the youngest daughter of Lord Delaval, and therefore a niece of the notorious Sir Francis Delaval. Rumour had coupled her name with that of the Duke of York (Wraxall's _Posthumous Memoirs_, vol. iii. p. 192).

[197] John Boydell, in 1786, began to prepare his illustrated edition of Shakespeare, and built a gallery in Pall Mall for the exhibition of the pictures painted for the work. The work was published in eighteen parts, of which the first appeared in 1791, and the whole was completed in 1802.

[198] The third Mysore war began with the invasion of the protected district of Travancore in 1789 by Tippoo, who laid waste the Carnatic almost to the gates of Madras. The war lasted for three years. Lord Cornwallis, in April and May, 1791, advanced from Bangalore to Seringapatam, and drove Tippoo's army before him into the capital (May 15). General Abercromby, advancing towards the same point from the west, reached Periapatnam. But, owing to the difficulty of crossing the swollen Cavery, the two forces could not unite. A few days later, the heavy rains and want of provisions compelled Cornwallis (May 26) to retire, leaving the greater part of his heavy artillery. At the same time Abercromby retreated to Tellicherry on the east coast. Near Bangalore, Cornwallis unexpectedly encountered the Mahratta horse advancing to his assistance. In the autumn and winter months many hill-forts were reduced on the road to Seringapatam, and on February 5, 1792, Cornwallis once more arrived before its walls. Tippoo, on March 18, 1792, signed a peace by which he surrendered half his territories, paid a war indemnity, and gave up two of his sons as hostages for the due performance of the treaty.

583.

_To Lord Sheffield._

Lausanne, December 28th, 1791.

[Sidenote: THE DEMON OF PROCRASTINATION.]

*Alas! alas! the Demon of procrastination has again possessed me. Three months have nearly rolled away since your departure; and seven letters, five from the most valuable Maria, and two from Yourself, have extorted from me only a single epistle, which, perhaps, would never have been written, had I not used the permission of employing my own tongue and the hand of a secretary. Shall I tell you, that, for these last six weeks, the eve of every post day has witnessed a _firm_ resolution, and the day itself has furnished some ingenious delay? This morning, for instance, I had determined to invade you as soon as the breakfast things should be removed: they were removed; but I had something to read, to write, to meditate, and there was time enough before me. Hour after hour has stolen away, and I finally begin my letter at two o'Clock, evidently too late for the post, as I must dress, dine, go abroad, &c. A foundation, however, _shall be_ laid, which will stare me in the face; and next Saturday I shall probably be rowzed by the awful reflection that it is the last day in the year.

After realizing this summer an event which I had long considered as a dream of fancy, I know not whether I should rejoyce or grieve at your visit to Lausanne. While I possessed the family, the sentiment of pleasure, with some occasional shades, highly predominated; and the last weeks of harmony and content were those which I the most truly enjoyed, when, just as we had subsided in a regular, easy, comfortable plan of life, the last trump sounded, and, without speaking of the pang of separation, you left me to one of the most gloomy, solitary months of October, which I have ever passed.

For yourself and daughter, however, you have contrived to snatch some of the most interesting scenes of this World. Paris, at such a moment, Switzerland, and the Rhine, have suggested a train of lively images and useful ideas, which will not be speedily erazed. The mind of the young Damsel, more especially, will be enlarged and enlightened in every sense; in four months she has lived many years; and she will much deceive and displease me, if she does not review and methodize her journal, in such a manner as she is capable of performing, for the amusement of her particular friends. Another benefit which will redound from your recent view is, that every place, person, and object, about Lausanne, are now become familiar and interesting to you. In our future correspondence (do I dare pronounce the word correspondence?) I can talk to you as freely of every circumstance as if it were actually before your eyes.

And first, of my own improvements.--All those venerable piles of ancient verdure which you admired, have been eradicated in one fatal day. Your faithful substitutes, William de Severy and Levade, have never ceased to persecute me, till I signed their death warrant. Their place is now supplied by a number of picturesque naked poles, the foster fathers of as many twigs of platanuses and acacias, which may afford a grateful but distant shade to the founder, or to his _seris nepotibus_. In the meanwhile I must confess that the terrace appears broader, and that I discover a much larger quantity of snow than I should otherwise do. The workmen admire your ingenious plan for cutting out a new bed-chamber and book-room; but, on mature consideration, we all unanimously prefer the old scheme of adding a third room beyond the library, with two spacious windows, and a fire-place between, on the Terrace. It will be larger (28 feet by 21), and pleasanter, and warmer: the difference of expence will be much less considerable than I imagined: the door of communication with the library will be artfully buried in the wainscot; and, unless it be opened by my own choice, may always remain a profound secret. Such is the design; but as it will not be executed before next summer, you have time and liberty to state your objections. I am much colder about the staircase, but it may be finished, according to your idea, for thirty pounds; and I feel they will persuade me. Am I not a very rich man? When these alterations are compleated, not forgetting the watercloset, few authors of six Volumes in quartos will be more agreeably lodged than myself.

Lausanne is now full and lively; all our native families are returned from the Country; and, praised be the Lord, we are infested with few foreigners, either French or English. Even our Democrates are more reasonable or more discreet; it is agreed to wave the subject of politics, and we all seem happy and cordial. I have a grand dinner this week, a supper of thirty or forty people on Twelfth-day, &c.; some concerts have taken place, some balls are talked of; and even Maria would allow (yet it is ungenerous to say even Maria) that the winter scene at Lausanne is tolerably gay and active. I say nothing of the Severys, as Angletine has epistolized Maria last post. She has probably hinted her brother meditates a short excursion to Turin; that worthy creature Trevor has given him a pressing invitation to his own house. Mrs. Trevor, who is one of us, does not envy him.

[Sidenote: PEACE OR WAR IN EUROPE?]

In the beginning of February I propose going to Geneva for three or four weeks. I shall lodge and eat with the Neckers; my mornings will be my own, and I shall spend my evenings in the society of the place, where I have many acquaintance. This short absence will agitate my stagnant life, and restore me with fresh appetite to my house, my library, and my friends. Before that time, the end of February, what events may happen, or be ready to happen! The National assembly[199] (compared to which the former was a Senate of heroes and Demigods) seem resolved to attack Germany _avec quatre millions de bayonettes libres_; the army of the princes must soon either fight, or starve, or conquer. Will Sweden draw his sword?[200] will Russia draw her purse?[201] an empty purse! All is darkness and anarchy: neither party is strong enough to impose a settlement; and I cannot see a possibility of an amicable arrangement, where there are no heads (in any sense of the word) who can answer for the multitude. Send me your ideas, and those of Lord Guildford, Lord Loughborough, Fox, &c.

Before I conclude, a word of my vexatious affairs.--Shall I never sail on the smooth stream of good security and half-yearly interest? Will every body refuse my money? I had already written to Darell and Gosling to obey your commands, and was in hopes that you had already made large and salutary evacuations. During your absence I never expected much effect from the cold indifference of agents; but you are now in England--you will be speedily in London; set all your setting dogs to beat the field, hunt, enquire,--why should you not advertise? And let not the Goslings dine at my expence. I know not what to say at present of India bonds--do they not Sink? Our affairs in that Country seem in a very ticklish situation. At all events consult with Darrel, he has knowledge of that sort and is a real friend. Yet I am almost ashamed to complain of some stagnation of interest, when I am witness to the natural and acquired philosophy of so many French, who are reduced from riches, not to indigence, but to absolute want and beggary. A Count Argout has just left us, who possessed ten thousand a-year in the Island of St. Domingo;[202] he is utterly burned and ruined; and a brother, whom he tenderly loved, has been murdered by the Negroes. These are real misfortunes.

[Sidenote: AN AMAZING PUSH OF REMORSE.]

I have much revolved the plan of the Memoirs I once mentioned; and, as you do not think it ridiculous, I believe I shall make an attempt: if I can please myself, I am confident of not displeasing; but let this be a profound secret between us: people must not be prepared to laugh; they must be taken by surprize. Have you looked over your, or rather my letters? Surely in the course of the year, you may find a safe and cheap occasion of sending me a parcel; they may assist me. Adieu. I embrace My Lady: send me a favourable account of her health and spirits. How happy might we have been, could she have preserved them at Lausanne! I kiss the Marmaille. By an amazing push of remorse and diligence I have finished my letter, three pages and a half, this same day since dinner; but I have not time to read it. Ever yours.*

half past six.

[199] The States-General met May 5, 1789. On June 17, 1789, the Third Estate formed itself into a National Assembly, which was dissolved September 30, 1791. The Legislative Assembly, also constituted a National Assembly, sate from October 1, 1791, to September 21, 1792. In December, 1791, Louis XVI. threatened that, if the Electors of Trèves and Mayence did not prevent the assembly of troops in their territories, he would declare war. On March 1, 1792, the Emperor Leopold II. died, and was succeeded, as King of Hungary and Bohemia, by his son Francis Joseph. Against him France declared war, April 20, 1792.

[200] Gustavus III., King of Sweden (1746-1792), was assassinated by Anckarström in March, 1792. He had offered his services against France as generalissimo of the forces of the Allied Powers.

[201] Russia, after withdrawing her ambassador from Paris, ordered the French minister to leave St. Petersburg in August, 1792.

[202] The negroes in the French or western part of the Island of St. Domingo rose against the whites in August, 1791. In September the General Assembly of the island appealed to the National Assembly at Paris for aid, by a letter detailing the horrors of the insurrection, and later (November 30) by sending a deputy, who was heard in the National Assembly. The insurrection was the first step in the independence of Hayti, which was recognized by the French in 1825. A Comte d'Argout succeeded the Comte d'Ennery as governor of the colony in 1777.

584.

_To Lord Sheffield._

Lausanne, December 31st, 1791. To-morrow a new year, _multos et felices_.

*I now most sincerely repent of my late repentance, and do almost swear never to renounce the amiable and useful practice of procrastination. Had I delayed, as I was strongly tempted, another post, your missive of the 13th, which did not reach me till this morning (three mails were due), would have arrived in time, and I might have avoided this second Herculean labour. It will be, however, no more than an infant Hercules. The topics of conversation have been fully discussed, and I shall now confine myself to the needful of the new business. _Felix faustumque sit!_ May no untoward accident disarrange your Yorkshire Mortgage; the conclusion of which will place me in a clear and easy state, such as I have never known since the first hour of property.*

Considering the fragment which we had recovered from Hugonin's shipwreck, and the large autumnal payments, I should have imagined that the Goslings would have been somewhat fatter: your lawyers' bills, the last (as I flatter myself) that I shall ever know, must have cut deeper than you expected; but I shall see the detail of their account. If the Yorkshire friend should like £6000 instead of £5000, and if the estate would afford adequate and ample security, why should you not desire Darrel to sell the amount of £3800? I should then have exactly £20,000 firmly seated on land and water, besides your annuity of £250, and I would not touch the moderate residue of my short annuities, till poor Mrs. G.'s dismission from below (which cannot be a very distant event) shall release me from her annual tribute of £300.

*The three per cents are so high, and the country is in such a damned state of prosperity under that fellow Pitt, that it goes against me to purchase at such low interest. In my visit to England next autumn, or in the spring following, (alas! you _must_ acquiesce in the alternative,) I hope to be armed with sufficient materials to draw upon Cadell for a loose sum of £1000 perhaps or £1500, which may be employed as taste or fancy shall dictate, in the improvement of my library, a service of plate, &c. I am not very sanguine, but surely this is no uncomfortable prospect.

This pecuniary detail, which has not indeed been so unpleasant as it used formerly to be, has carried me farther than I expected. Let us now drink and be merry. I flatter myself that your Madeira, improved by its travels, will set forwards for Messrs. Romberg, at Ostend, early in the spring; and I should be very well pleased if you could add a hogshead of excellent claret, for which we should be entitled to the Drawback. They must halt at Basle, and send notice to me for a safe conduct. Have you had any intelligence from Lord Awkland about the wine which he was to order from Bourdeaux, by Marseilles and the Rhone? The one need not impede the other; I wish to have a long stock. Corea has promised me a hogshead of his native Madeira, for which I am to give him an order on Cadell for a copy of the Decline and Fall: he vanished without notice, and is now at Paris. Could you not fish out his direction by Mrs. Wood, who by this time is in England? I rejoice in Lally's prosperity, but cannot think Burke so very mad. Have you reconsidered my proposal of a declaration of constitutional principles from the heads of the party? I think a foolish address from a body of Whigs to the national assembly renders it still more incumbent on you. The intelligence of my Lady's amendment has given us all most heartfelt pleasure. How very unlucky was the moment! Achieve my worldly concerns, _et eris mihi magnus Apollo_. Adieu, ever yours.*

585.

_Lord Sheffield to Edward Gibbon._

Sheffield Place, 16th January, 1792.

The circumstance of your being already damned (in the opinion of all good people) has often checked expectoration, and has often been so far inconvenient as to deprive me of an Exordium, which occasion and fine feelings inspired. I have been boiling for some time, and was meditating some eminent degree of abuse when your letters of the 28th and 31st ultimo arrived this morning. They have so far softened, as to save me the trouble of examining your impudent excuses. Seven to one are great odds, especially in letter writing.

[Sidenote: THE CAPACITY OF MARIA HOLROYD.]

As to Lausanne, I do not like to talk of my visit there. I do not think I enjoyed it half enough. It is true I contrived to snatch some of the most interesting scenes of this world. France and Paris at such a moment--the truly Sovereign Proceedings of Berne.[203] It was a comfort to see the whiskered Germans, that excellent contrast to the French National Guards. The Rhine and Austrian Flanders, though last, did not promote and assist less lively images or less usefull ideas. The young ladies are still full of their excursion, and they seem even more delighted with the recollection than they were with the enjoyment. I am glad you recommended to Maria to review and methodise her journal. Her capacity, if well directed, is equal to anything. I hear a superlative account from various parts of the letters she wrote to England. I have not seen them. I hear a good deal also of my own, and I wish I had some long letters I wrote to the Duke of Portland, Lord Guilford, and Lord Loughborough. I have no journal or memoranda of the subjects of them.

We have had some extra encitements to think of Lausanne. First came Francillon, smart, pleasing, and attentive, and although he has not a very imposing Parsonick gravity, I think I discover that he is a diligent pastor. There is a small matter which I flatter myself I may be able to do for him by means of the Arch-Bishop of Canterbury. N.B.--Levade's letter was a great treat to us, and Lavater's manuscript is considered by the Family as an acquisition. I shall write to the former speedily.

[Sidenote: LALLY TOLLENDAL AT COURT.]

Francillon stayed here about ten days, but before his departure, the Lally Tollendal arrived. That lively, miserable, pleasant, mortified, pious, and ingenuous man has been here above a fortnight, and what is still more miraculous, he does not seem to have the least disposition to go; and yet I have walked him on foot over ploughed fields when very wet, and I have trotted him on horseback in the roughest lanes when frozen as hard as possible. He is delighted with the Library, where he finds a great variety of books he had not seen. He has made exhilirating discoveries in respect to Strafford,[204] and he is become the most profound Antiquarian in Parliamentary history that I know. As it is not customary for him to wear breeches until he goes out, which is always late, or until he comes to dinner, I have just received a note from his apartment, which states that not being in condition to enter the Library (Mrs. Poole in her 83rd year is there) he prays me to send him certain folios. Poor fellow, his nerves are in a horrid state, but he says not worse than they have generally been since he had the small pox. Tell Mrs. Trevor I am particularly attentive to his health. I recommend regular meals instead of one enormous dinner, and earlier times of going to and rising from bed, to which in some degree he attends. My Lady, (who is infinitely better) takes to him amazingly, but that seems the custom with all Ladies. I have only one objection to him, namely, he reads in Bed and is eminently _distrait_; I am sorry, as it is a rule with me never to solicit a second visit from a person who has that practice, because there is some inconvenience in having the house burnt down in the middle of the night, unless it could be so contrived that all the inhabitants should be burnt at the same time without knowing anything of the matter. I wish his Malkin was re-established at Tournay--and so I believe does he. The expectations from the uncles are not flattering. I fancy he would like best to be with his Princesses of the Desert and Madame Trevor. Lord Loughborough is extremely pleased with him and is uncommonly kind to him. Lord Guilford likes him, and Lally was much satisfied with his visit of two days to Bushey Park. The King took a great deal of notice of him, and talked to him a long time. They conversed on the _Renversement de toutes les Idées que caracterisait La Revolution Francaise_. Lally said, _"Sire, Je quitte un des sujets de vôtre Majestie et certainement des plus distingués. Il a caracterisè à merveille par une seule plaisanterie ce que nous arrive." "Qui?" "M. Gibbon." "Et que dit il?" "Il dit, que la Revolution Francaise lui rappelle le tems de son enfance, où on lui faisait voir dans une grande estampe un cochon faisant rôtir un Cuisinier."_ Lally adds, "_Sa Majestie Brittanique a ri de ce rire inextinguible que Homer nous donne pour un attribut des Dieux._"

Finally, the Count is likely to pass his time in London as well as can be expected in his burdened state. Everybody interests themselves about him. Yet I can discover no symptom of a commodious arrangement for him. I thought he would have gone to the Queen's Naissance,[205] but I think he will now stay here till Parliament meets, viz. the 31st instant. On his passage to this Island, he had a long conversation with De Bouillè at Mayence. You will remember I have abused that general for not attempting to retake the King. I was unjust. He followed him with one thousand cavalry nine leagues in what is stated an incredibly short time (yet four hours are mentioned), and was stopped by a river,[206] like Lord Cornwallis going to join Abercrombie, who complains that he had not been told of that river; but if they were afraid of being drowned _à la nage_, 500 of them might have gone into the river, and by holding themselves and their horses in a proper direction might have formed a temporary bridge for the other 500.

The flight failed through the King's departure a day later than he proposed. The attendance of a democratic woman on the Dauphin was to end on the day which had been fixed. The King had announced to Bouillè that it would be better to delay till the woman's time was out, but too late for him to give notice to the Person and Troops he had posted. Charles Damas and Choiseul[207] had advanced to meet the King. He not coming on the day he was expected, they supposed the enterprise had failed, and retired two hours only before the King arrived. He expected to find a relay of horses on the Paris side of Varrennes. The horses were waiting on the other side, of which the King had no information. The Postillions would not pass the stage. The King, not meeting those persons he expected, despaired. The Queen was impatient, got out of the carriage, enquired at different places for the relay. Thence suspicions arose. Damas and Choiseul finding they had caused some jealousy, had returned by a cross road, otherwise the King would have overtaken them. They came into Varrennes after the King was seized. Bouillè says the flight was entirely planned by the King, that the Emperor had pressed the attempt. He excuses his letter, &c., by saying "His object was to turn the thoughts of the people from the King on him." What a reverse for poor Bouillè! If the King had reached Montmedi, I have not a doubt of his having been joined by the Army and of his being now re-established at Paris. Bouillè would have been in the highest situation. Now he is a vagabond in Germany.

[Sidenote: THE HIDEOUS PLAGUE IN FRANCE.]

Letters from Paris represent Pitt as the vilest Machiavel in respect to French affairs. Perhaps France has no great right to complain. When lately in London I dined in company with the Duke of Richmond, and was sitting next him. I whispered that the Princes were very well satisfied with our King's friendly letter to them, which promised neutrality on the part of Britain. The Duke said, twice, with eagerness, "No, no. It promised nothing." If the plague, comparatively a trifling misfortune, had broke out in France, the neighbouring countries would have formed a cordon round it--but now, when the most hideous plague that can be imagined, rages there, which no cordon ever will be able to contain, if it should continue, but which inevitably will spread over and contaminate all Europe, it is treated as a matter of ordinary policy. I do not understand these precious Sovereigns. They deserve their fate, and their ministers to be hanged, but I object to the several countries being torn to pieces; at the same time I must say that I do not see that there is sufficient ground to believe our ministers are acting a double part as is supposed. Finally, it is obvious that there is not at present the possibility of an arrangement between the two parties of France, because neither party can govern or answer for the multitude. Lally talks with much satisfaction of the manner in which Lord Guilford expressed himself in respect to Necker, his honour, honesty, &c., &c. He is greatly struck with his candour, moderation and good sense. Remember me in an handsome manner to M. and Madame Necker when you see them.

As you talk of being restored to your pristine tranquility at Lausanne, and that Politicks are waved, I suppose Mr. Commissioner Fischer is gone. Rather than part with him, I should have been content with your alarms and your Politicks. I should even have regretted the whiskers and my Friend Meluner. Maria says the Commissioner is gone, because you presume to mention a Ball. I hope Wilhelm de Severy was not obliged to make verses. Remember us to his excellent Pere, Mere, & Sœur.

Luckily it is not necessary to reserve much space for your affairs. They are in good train. It is a satisfaction when I can observe in you a dawning of intelligence in such matters, and that you see there is an advantage of 15 per cent. in changing at this time from the Funds to a Mortgage, besides the security against depreciation. I have already written to desire that your Fund in Yorkshire may be increased if it should suit. I should have remembered the Dowager. However, the interest of Stock now due and the money you have at Lausanne will be enough for two months. Remember it will be little more before considerable payments will be made. You are a rich old fellow. I shall leave the India Bonds if the price should be bad. The Lawyers' bills paid are only those I showed to you. I apprehend the Madeira has begun its travels. I think I discovered when I saw Lord Auckland lately, that he had done nothing respecting the claret, but I believe I can provide for you by another channel.

I have an imperfect recollection of having mentioned in a late letter some instances of British prosperity, but I know not what. The gross produce of the permanent Revenue of the year ending 5^{th} Jan^y, 1791, including Land-Tax and Annual Malt, amounted to £20,355,380, exclusive of casual revenue, such as seizures, fines, taxes on Places & Pensions, First fruits, &c., amounting to £125,476, and exclusive also of the profits of the Lottery. The actual receipt of the

Excise for the same year was £9,054,850 Resting to be accounted for 194,245 ---------- £9,249,096

Expense of management, £505,014. But allowances, Exports, Bounties, &c., reduced the nett payment into the Exchequer to £7,689,973; notwithstanding this ample amount, the net increase of the excise for the year ending 5^{th} Jan^y, 1792, will not be less than £1,200,000, of which £800,000 are old, and £400,000 are new duties. The general expence of collecting all the Taxes is £5 13_s._ 7_d._ per cent. I understand the expence of collecting the Revenue in France previous to the Revolution was £11 17_s._ 0_d._ per cent.

You recollect that we ought to have been ruined by the Independence of America--_selon tous les regles_, except mine and a few others--yet since 1773, when the troubles in America began, the export of British manufactures have gradually increased upwards of four millions annually. British built commercial tonnage has increased since that period 318,522 tons, which is more than three-fourths of the whole Commercial tonnage of France. Thanks to that illustrious writer the Lord Sheffield. The total of French commercial tonnage is 426,121. Total of English, 1,527,240, English coasting tonnage 3,711,135, French ditto 1,004,729. There is more Foreign than French shipping employed in the trade of France. When their silly and crazy patriots have ruined their West India trade, they will have little occasion for sailors. Such considerations are beneath such elevated minds.

[Sidenote: MASSA KING WILBERFORCE.]

We are going to send 300 dismounted Light Dragoons to Jamaica and 600 foot from Nova Scotia. Hitherto all has been quiet there, but 3000 Negroes assembled in the parish of Westmoreland to celebrate Massa King Wilberforce's Birthday,[208] lately raised some alarm. Happily they were quietly dispersed. Have you observed that the estimated expence of France for the last year was about 26 millions sterling, and the Ways and Means about 24 millions? (It is rather awkward to set out with a deficit of 2 millions.) On the 31st October last, only about 2,700,000 had been received, and it was not even supposed then that more than 2,400,000 more would be paid before the end of the year. The Arrear of Taxes since the Revolution is about 70,000,000. The Land-tax however is not to be considered as all lost. The imperfect receipt of it arises from an incomplete arrangement, I understand, as to the mode of collection. About 12 millions of that tax are behind.

I have not thought so bad of your taste, since I heard the vile unmeaning masses are removed from your Terrace, and I hope most of the vulgar flower-pots. You have not given a tolerable reason for preferring a bed-chamber which cannot have a good approach, without indeed a very great expence. What I propose, may be done without spoiling your Library, and without disturbing you in that comfortable room.

I have not forgot your poultry, I could have done the needfull for £7, instead of £70. You did not want a menagerie. The alteration of the staircase would do away the most awkward entrance I ever saw into an House at a very small expense--but if the French Revolution is not checked, I must flatter myself your Books will be used for cartridges. As to the letters, I thought you expressed indifference about them before I left you. I shall examine, altho' I do not believe there are many except of a late Times. Assure the Duchess of Biron[209] (she is a great favourite here) that the parcel for Madame de Cambis was received safe.

[203] A commission presided over by M. Fischer, supported by two or three thousand militia of the Canton of Berne, was sent to inquire into the attempts to introduce the principles of the French Revolution into the Pays de Vaud. Several persons were arrested, and secretly examined. MM. Rosset and La Motte were confined in the Castle of Chillon, and being afterwards condemned to a long period of imprisonment for correspondence with the French, were transferred to the Castle of Arbourg, whence they escaped.

[204] Lally's tragedy of _Strafford_, in five acts and verse, was printed at London in 1795. His _Essai sur la vie de Thomas Wentworth, Comte de Strafford_, was published at London in the same year. Madame d'Arblay, in February, 1792, speaks of Miss Fanshawe having heard "the famous M. Lally Tolendahl read a French tragedy upon an English subject written by himself! The subject was the death of Strafford." Lally was probably attracted to the subject by the circumstances of his own father's execution.

[205] Marie Antoinette was born November 2, 1755.

[206] Bouillé, warned by a messenger from Choiseul that the king was detained at Varennes, rode from Dun-sur-Meuse, about twenty-two miles from Montmédy, to within sight of the village, but could not cross the Aire; thousands of the National Guard had mustered, and the king was already on his return journey to Paris.

[207] The Comte de Damas, who was stationed on the Ste. Menehould side of Varennes, joined the king at Clermont-en-Argonne, where the road westward from Ste. Menehould strikes to the north to Varennes and Montmédy. The Duc de Choiseul and his hussars, who had been posted on the Montmédy side of Varennes, also joined the king at Varennes. But their troops refused to act against the National Guard. The relays were stationed at the further side of the bridge over the Aire, which had been blocked by Postmaster Drouet.

[208] In Westmoreland County, Jamaica, "particularly in the parish of St. Elizabeth, there have been nightly meetings of the Negroes, where they have not hesitated to call Wilberforce their King, by the name (in their way) of _King Wilberforce_." (Extract from a letter quoted in the _Gentleman's Magazine_ for February, 1792, vol. 62, p. 174.)

[209] Amélie de Boufflers, only daughter of the Duc de Boufflers, was born in 1751. J. J. Rousseau speaks enthusiastically of her, when he saw her as a girl at the house of her grandmother, the Maréchale de Luxembourg. She married, in 1766, Armand Louis de Gontaut, Duc de Lauzun, who succeeded his uncle as Duc de Biron. Dissolute and a spendthrift, the duke hated the king and queen because he had not been appointed to succeed his uncle as Colonel of the Guards (_Souvenirs et Portraits_, par le Duc de Lévis, pp. 191-201). He joined the extreme revolutionary party. His wife, who had lived apart from him for many years, in 1791-2 passed some months at Lausanne. She returned to France from England in November, 1792, was arrested and released at the intercession of her husband, whom she had not seen for fifteen years. In England she lived with the Princesse d'Hénin till October, 1793, when she again returned to France. She was arrested and guillotined in 1794. The Duc was executed in December, 1793.

586.

_To Lord Sheffield._

Lausanne, April 4th, 1792.

*For fear you should abuse me, as usual, I will begin the attack, and scold at you, for not having yet sent me the long-expected intelligence of the completion of my mortgage. You had positively assured me that the second of February would terminate my worldly cares, by a consummation so devoutly to be wished. The news, therefore, might reach me about the 16th; and I argued with the gentle logic of lazyness, that it was perfectly idle to answer your letter, till I could chaunt a thanksgiving song of gratitude and praise. As every post disappointed my hopes, the same argument was repeated for the next; and twenty empty-handed postilions have blown their insignificant horns, till I am provoked at last to write by sheer impatience and vexation.

_Facit indignatio versum. Cospetto di Baccho_; for I must ease myself by swearing a little. What is the cause, the meaning, the pretence, of this delay? Are the Yorkshire Mortgagors inconstant in their wishes? are the London lawyers constant in their procrastination? Is a letter on the road, to inform that all is concluded, or to tell me that all is broke to pieces? In sober truth I am out of humour to think of all the dinners that the Goslings have given at my expence. Had the money been placed in the three per Cents last May, besides the annual interest, it would now have gained by the rise of stock nearly twenty per Cent. Your Lordship is a wise man, a successful writer, and a useful Senator; you understand America and Ireland, Corn and Slaves, but your prejudice against the funds, in which I am often tempted to joyn, makes you a little blind to their encreasing value in the hands of our virtuous and excellent minister. But our regret is vain; one pull more and we reach the shore; and our future correspondence will be no longer tainted with business. But shall I then be more diligent and regular? I hope and believe so; for now that I have got over this article of worldly interest, my letter seems to be almost finished.

A propos of letters, am I not a sad dog to forget My Lady and Maria? Alas! the dual number has been prejudicial to both. How happy could I be with either, were t'other dear charmer away. I am like the Ass of famous memory; I cannot tell which way to turn first, and there I stand mute and immoveable. The Baronial and maternal dignity of My Lady, supported by twenty years' friendship, may claim the preference. But the five incomparable letters of Maria!--Next week, however.--Am I not ashamed to talk of next Week?

[Sidenote: A MONTH WITH THE NECKERS.]

I have most successfully, and most agreeably, executed my plan of spending the month of March at Geneva, in the Necker house, and every circumstance that I had arranged turned out beyond my expectation; the freedom of the morning, the society of the table and drawing-room, from half an hour past two till six or seven; an evening assembly and card-party, in a round of the best company, and, except one day in the week, a private supper of free and friendly conversation. You would like Geneva better than Lausanne; there is much more information to be got among the men; but though I found some agreeable women, their manners and style of life are, upon the whole, less easy and pleasant than our own. I was much pleased with Necker's brother, Mr. de Germani,[210] a good-humoured, polite, sensible man, without the genius or fame of the statesman, but much more adapted for private and ordinary happiness.

Madame de Stael is expected in a few weeks at Copet, where they receive her, and where, "to dumb forgetfullness a prey," she will have leisure to regret the pleasing anxious being, which she enjoyed amidst the storms of Paris. But what can the poor creature do? her husband is in Sweden,[211] her lover is no longer Secretary of War,[212] and her father's house is the only place where she can reside with the least degree of prudence and decency. Of that father I have really a much higher idea than I ever had before; in our domestic intimacy he cast away his gloom and reserve; I saw a great deal of his mind, and all that I saw is fair and worthy. He was overwhelmed by the hurricane, he mistook his way in the fog, but in such a perilous situation, I much doubt whether any mortal could have seen or stood. In the meanwhile, he is abused by all parties, and none of the French in Geneva will set their foot in his house. He remembers Lord Sheffield with esteem. His health is good, and he would be tranquil in his private life, were not his spirits continually wounded by the arrival of every letter and every newspaper. His sympathy is deeply interested by the fatal consequences of a Revolution, in which he had acted so leading a part; and he feels as a friend for the danger of Mr. de Lessart,[213] who may be guilty in the eyes of the Jacobins, or even of his judges, by those very actions and dispatches which would be the most approved by all true Lovers of his Country.

[Sidenote: THE MARCH OF THE MARSEILLAIS.]

What a momentous event is the Emperor's death![214] In the forms of a new reign, and of the Imperial election, the Democrates have at least gained time, if they knew how to use it. But the new Monarch, though of a weak complexion, is of a martial temper; he loves the Soldiers, and is beloved by them; and the slow, fluctuating politics of his uncle may be succeeded by a direct line of march to the gates of Strasburgh and Paris. It is the opinion of the master-movers in France, (I know it most certainly,) that their troops will not fight, that the people have lost all sense of patriotism, and that on the first discharge of an Austrian cannon the game is up. But what occasion for Austrians or Spaniards? the French are themselves their greatest enemies; 4000 Marseillais are marched against Arles and Avignon, the _troupes de ligne_ are divided between the two parties, and the flame of civil war will soon extend over the southern provinces.[215] You have heard of the unworthy treatment of the Swiss regiment of Ernst. The canton of Bern has bravely recalled them, with a stout letter to the King of France, which must be inserted in all the papers.

I now come to the most unpleasant articles, our home politics. Rosset and La Motte are condemned to five and twenty years imprisonment in the fortress of Arbourg. We have not yet received their official sentence, nor is it believed that the proofs and proceedings against them will be published; an awkward circumstance, which it does not seem easy to justify. Some (though none of note) are taken up, several are fled, many more are suspected and suspicious. All are silent, but it is the silence of fear and discontent; and the secret hatred which rankled against Government begins to point against the few who are known to be well-affected.

I never knew any place so much changed as Lausanne, even since last year; and though you will not be much obliged to me for the motive, I begin very seriously to think of visiting Sheffield-place by the month of September next. Yet here again I am frightened, by the dangers of a French, and the difficulties of a German, route. You must send me an account of the passage from Brighton, with an itinerary of the Rhine, distances, expences, &c. As usual, I just save the post, nor have I time to read my letter, which, after wasting the morning in deliberation, has been struck off in a heat since dinner. No news of the Madeira. The views of Sh.-pl. are just received; they are admired, and shall be framed. Severy has spent the Carnival at Turin. Trevor is only the best man in the World.*

[210] Louis Necker (1730-1801), elder brother of Jacques Necker the statesman, assumed the name of de Germanie on succeeding to an estate of that name which he inherited from his father. He had made a fortune as a banker at Marseilles.

[211] The Baron de Staël-Holstein was Swedish Ambassador at Paris from 1783 to 1792.

[212] M. de Narbonne-Lara was Minister of War from December, 1791, to March, 1792. Born in 1755, he is said to have been the son of Madame Adelaide and the Comte de Narbonne, her chamberlain. He was one of the few persons who, according to Talleyrand, were completely in the confidence of Mirabeau. "Le Comte Louis de Narbonne est enfin ministre de la guerre, d'hier," wrote Marie Antoinette to Count Fersen. "Quelle gloire pour M^{me} de Stael, et quel plaisir pour elle d'avoir toute l'armée ... à elle!" (Klinckowström, _Le Comte de Fersen et la Cour de France_, i. 269). After the insurrection of August 10, 1792, Narbonne was saved by Madame de Staël and M. Bollmann, and took refuge in England.

[213] Antoine de Lessart, Minister of the Interior and of Foreign Affairs (1791-2), was accused of corresponding with the _émigrés_ and the emperor, tried before the High Court of Orleans for treason, and murdered in the September massacres of 1792.

[214] The Emperor Leopold II. died March 1, 1792, and was succeeded by his son Francis Joseph, who, pending his election as emperor, took the title of King of Bohemia and Hungary.

[215] Taine traces to the action of Marseilles in the autumn of 1791 the first crop of the "arbre révolutionnaire" (_La Révolution_, vol. ii. c. vi.). Marseilles, in fact, became a Republic which undertook the conquest of southern provinces. In February, 1792, four thousand Marseillais marched upon Aix, and disarmed and pillaged the Swiss Regiment of Ernest. In the following March, they made themselves masters of Arles. Their troops, "vraie Sodome errante," pillaged the country, and plundered, outraged, or massacred peaceful inhabitants. Avignon, which with the Comtat Venaissin was united to France in September, 1791, was the next object of their attack. It had been, in October, 1791, the scene of the horrible massacres of La Glacière perpetrated by Jourdan _Coupe-Tête_ and the "Brigands of Avignon." Jourdan's cruelties had produced a reaction. But in April, 1792, he was carried in triumph by the Marseillais through the streets of the city, and restored to his usurped position as governor and commander-in-chief. Jourdan, it may be added, was guillotined in May, 1794.

587.

_Lord Sheffield to Edward Gibbon._

Downing Street, 18th April, 1792.

You will readily guess that I do not write to you because the Mortgage was not finished, but I cannot readily guess the cause of your not answering my letter, which according to the best of my recollection was long and amiable. Be assured that you are a worthless fellow.

When the Yorkshire business is finished you will have £20,000 as well placed as can be. N.B. The Buriton interest is not yet paid, but I suppose will in a few days. I have been at Sheffield Place near a fortnight during Easter.

I am engaged in numberless matters before the Commons, British business is not slack. I have been all night at a Ball. I am just returned from a Congress with Mr. Secretary Dundas on the subject of his Slave Bill.[216] He and I are likely to agree. The innocence of Captain Kimber[217] will be made as clear as will the extreme rascality of his surgeon who accuses. Louisa settled at Bath with Aunt about the middle of Febry. It was the best that could be done. Mrs. Moss set out this day for the neighbourhood of Geneva, where she is to pass the summer. She carries a letter to you in case she should pass thro' Lausanne, that you might show such attention to her as you can by selfe, Levade, or De Severy. She carries also 14 of your letters of the years 77, 78, 79.

[216] In April, 1792, Wilberforce brought forward his annual motion for the abolition of the slave trade. Pitt made one of his most eloquent speeches in its support. Dundas moved as an amendment a gradual measure of abolition. His amendment, though opposed by Fox, was carried (April 2) by 193 to 125. He subsequently (April 23) moved a series of resolutions to effect a gradual abolition. These were taken up by Pitt, and, with some amendments, carried. In the Lords a proposal to receive evidence on the subject was carried (May 8), and there for the time proceedings stopped. The Bill for the general abolition of the slave trade received the royal assent in March, 1807.

[217] On June 7, 1792, Captain John Kimber was tried at the Old Bailey for the murder of a negro girl on board the _Recovery_. He was acquitted, and two of the witnesses for the prosecution were committed for trial for perjury. On February 19, 1793, Surgeon Dowling, the principal witness against Kimber, was convicted of perjury. The charge against Kimber was urged by Wilberforce in his speech of April 2, 1792.

588.

_Lord Sheffield to Edward Gibbon._

Downing Street, 14 May, 1792.

[Sidenote: AN ASYLUM AT BERNE.]

The Plot thickens. Some information induces me to think that Switzerland, till lately the happy and peaceful, may be disquieted, especially the countries bordering on France. I can conceive it possible that the insane discontents of the Pais de Vaud may render Lausanne not altogether an eligible and comfortable residence to you. We hear that the National Guards have assembled on the borders towards Geneva and are trying to perform some manœuvres. I can suppose it reasonable for you to think of this Isle sooner than you intended,--that the border may be disquieted and travelling for such an unweildy creature neither commodious nor delightful. It is possible the Borders may be less tempting for Travellers at present than some time hence. In such case, if anything like turbulence should exist at Lausanne, Berne may afford you the best Asylum till the journey to old England may be safe and sure, that is void of embarrassments which might annoy you, altho' they might appear only curious events and agreeable Episodes to me and some others. I apprehend that a journey by Germany, unless you make a great detour, would be troublesome.

When we joked last Autumn about whiskers and Jacobins and the great utility of books for making cartridges, I did not think you so near disturbance as you possibly may be. The annihilation of your books might be a proper judgement upon you for the damned, parson-minded, inglorious idea of leaving books to be sold. A trumpery fellow, that after having made a good collection had not the idea of keeping them together by leaving them to Sheffield Place, where they would involve the books already there, and the whole be handed down _seris nepotibus_ as the Gibbonian Library! I could hardly contain my indignation when you mentioned your sniverling notion. I have often fully and duly anathematized you since, but I do not flatter myself that barbarism is as yet arrived at the trouble of attacking the Library of an Aristocrate.

You will discover that I want to hear of you. At such a time a few lines might have been expected even from you--or anything ten times worse than you. How are the De Severy's? I should have attempted to make amends for my Lady's neglect of writing, if I had not been bothered in the extreme. I wish also to write to Levade. Is Mrs. Moss arrived? Altho' the new French art of War tends to enable to fight another day, yet it is to be hoped the execrable troops will not take that trouble. After I left you and had seen those warriors in Alsace, &c., I transmitted my opinion that they would take the very first opportunity of running away and murdering their officers. Our Associations here have now received a good brush. Your idea of signing Declarations would be adopted by many, if there was not an apprehension that Democrates would represent it as an Aristocrate Association against the People. Your Yorkshire Mortgage draws towards a conclusion. I have had an excellent letter of many pages from Lally at Paris which I must forthwith answer.

589.

_To Lord Sheffield._

Lausanne, May 30th, 1792.

[Sidenote: DEMOCRATIC PROCESS IN ENGLAND.]

*After the receipt of your _penultimate_, eight days ago, I expected with much impatience, the arrival of your next-promised Epistle. It arrived this morning, but has not compleatly answered my expectations. I wanted, and I hoped for a full and fair picture of the present and probable aspect of your political World, with which, at this distance, I seem every day less satisfied. In the slave question you triumphed last session; in this you have been defeated. What is the cause of this alteration? If it proceeded only from an impulse of humanity, I cannot be displeased, even with an error; since it is very likely that my own vote (had I possessed one) would have been added to the Majority. But in this rage against slavery, in the numerous petitions against the Slave trade, was there no leaven of new democratical principles? no wild ideas of the rights and natural equality of man? It is these I fear. Some articles in newspapers, some pamphlets of the year, the Jockey Club,[218]--have fallen into my hands. I do not infer much from such publications; yet I have never known them of so black and malignant a cast. I shuddered at Grey's motion,[219] disliked the half-support of Fox, admired the firmness of Pitt's declaration, and excused the usual intemperance of Burke. Surely such men as* Grey, Sheridan, Erskine, *have talents for mischief.

I see a Club of reform[220] which contains some respectable names. Inform me of the professions, the principles, the plans, the resources of these reformers. Will they heat the minds of the people? Does the French democracy gain no ground? Will the bulk of your party stand firm to their own interest, and that of their country? Will you not take some active measures to declare your sound opinions, and separate yourselves from your rotten members? or if you allow them to perplex government, if you trifle with this solemn business, if you do not resist the spirit of innovation in the first attempt, if you admit the smallest and most specious change in our parliamentary system, you are lost. You will be driven from one step to another; from principles just in theory, to consequences most pernicious in practice; and your first concessions will be productive of every subsequent mischief, for which you will be answerable to your country and to posterity. Do not suffer yourselves to be lulled into a false security; remember the proud fabric of the French Monarchy. Not four years ago it stood founded, as it might seem, on the rock of time, force, and opinion, supported by the triple Aristocracy of the Church, the Nobility, and the Parliaments. They are crumbled into dust; they are vanished from the earth. If this tremendous warning has no effect on the men of property in England; if it does not open every eye, and raise every arm, you will deserve your fate. If I am too precipitate, enlighten; if I am too desponding, encourage me.

My pen has run into this argument; for, as much a foreigner as you think me, on this momentous subject I feel myself an Englishman.

The pleasure of residing at Sheffield-place is, after all, the first and the ultimate object of my visit to my native country. But when or how will that visit be effected? Clouds and whirlwinds, Austrian Croats, and Gallic cannibals, seem on every side to impede my passage. You appear to apprehend the perils or difficulties of the German road, and French peace is more sanguinary than civilized War. I must pass through, perhaps, a thousand Republics or municipalities, which neither obey nor are obeyed. The strictness of passports, and the popular ferment, are much encreased since last summer: Aristocrate is in every mouth, Lanterns hang in every street, and an hasty word or a casual resemblance, may be fatal. Yet, on the other hand, it is probable that many English, men, women, and children, will traverse the country without any accident before next September; and I am sensible that many things appear more formidable at a distance than on a nearer approach. Without any absolute determination, we must see what the events of the next three or four months will produce. In the mean while, I shall expect with impatience your next letter: let it be speedy; my answer shall be prompt.

[Sidenote: GALLIC WOLVES PROWL ROUND GENEVA.]

You will be glad, or sorry, to learn that my gloomy apprehensions are much abated, and that my departure, whenever it takes place, will be an act of choice, rather than of necessity. I do not pretend to affirm, that secret discontent, dark suspicion, private animosity, are very materially asswaged; but we have not experienced, nor do we now apprehend, any dangerous acts of violence, which may compell me to seek a refuge among the friendly Bears,[221] and to abandon my library to the mercy of the Democrates. The firmness and vigour of Government have crushed, at least for a time, the spirit of innovation; and I do not believe that the body of the people, especially the Peasants, are disposed for a revolution. From France, praised be the Demon of Anarchy! the insurgents of the pays de Vaud could not at present have much to hope; and should the _Gardes nationales_, of which there is little appearance, attempt an incursion, the country is armed and prepared, and they would be resisted with equal numbers and superior discipline. The Gallic wolves that prowled round Geneva are drawn away, some to the south and some to the north, and the late events in Flanders seem to have diffused a general contempt, as well as abhorrence, for the lawless savages, who fly before the enemy, hang their prisoners, and murder their officers.[222] The brave and patient regiment of Ernest is expected home every day, and as Bern will take them into present pay, that veteran and regular corps will add to the security of our frontier.

I rejoyce that we have so little to say on that subject of Worldly affairs.* Since the interest of the Yorkshire is due from the mouth of February my complaints are silenced, but I am desirous of the consummation of the business. You seem to applaud your good fortune in finding an excellent settlement for £3000, with which you have purchased three unexceptionable Debentures, but you forget to mention who are my Creditors and in what part of the Globe my landed security is placed. I must confess some fears of Ireland or the West Indies, with neither of which I would willingly have any connection. As my property is now divided, I should much wish that you would draw up and sign a regular statement of the several objects, stating in whose hands and where the respective title deeds are deposited. With regard to those which are entrusted ----[223] it could not surely be offensive to ask him for a written acknowledgment. I have no evidence whatsoever to produce to his Executors; this thought sometimes makes me rather uneasy. I thank you for the offer of supporting my Credit at Gosling's; but the stream now begins to flow faster than I draw, and they have been instructed to keep £500 India bonds from your talons. Notwithstanding the Darrel's caution, I wish you had seized the propitious moment when stocks were so ridiculously high. I am much surprized to have no account whatsoever of the approach of my Madeira, which has been so injudiciously paid for beforehand; enquiries must be made. Will you likewise inform yourself of the Wedgewood, why I have not been able to obtain their old account which was solicited by letter, a strong measure from me, when I paid Severy's bill two or three years ago? If they have waited scandalously for their money, it is not my fault; but I do not like it myself, as it is the only debt I have in the World. Mrs. Moss saw my house and garden in a rainy day, and her passage was so rapid that I could not even give her a dish of tea: she seems pleased with her situation at Geneva.

*This summer we are threatened with an inundation, besides many nameless English and Irish; the Dowager Lady Spencer is arrived, the Dutchess of Ancaster is expected, but I am less anxious about those matrons, than for the good Dutchess of Devonshire and the wicked Lady Elizabeth Foster, who are on their march. Lord Malmsbury, the _audacieux_ Harris,[224] will inform you that he has seen me: _him_ I would have consented to keep.*

[Sidenote: THE DESTINY OF HIS LIBRARY.]

Before I absolutely conclude, I must animadvert on the whimsical peroration of your last Epistle concerning the future fate of my library,[225] about which you are so indignant. I am a friend to the circulation of property of every kind, and besides the pecuniary advantage of my poor heirs, I consider a public sale as the most laudable method of disposing of it. From such sales my books were chiefly collected, and when I can no longer use them they will be again culled by various buyers according to the measure of their wants and means. If indeed a true liberal public library existed in London, I might be tempted to enrich the catalogue and encourage the institution: but to bury my treasure in a _country_ mansion under the key of a jealous master! I am not flattered by the Gibbonian collection, and shall own my presumptuous belief that six quarto Volumes may be sufficient for the preservation of that name. If however your unknown successor should be a man of learning, if I should live to see the love of litterature dawning in your grandson---- In the meanwhile I admire the firm confidence of our friendship that you can insist, and I can demur, on a legacy of fifteen hundred or two thousand pounds without the smallest fear of offence.

*One word more before we part; call upon Mr. John Nichols,[226] bookseller and printer, at Cicero's head, Red-Lion-passage, Fleet-street, and ask him whether he did not, about the beginning of March, receive a very polite letter[227] from Mr. Gibbon of Lausanne? To which, either as a man of business or a civil Gentleman, he should have returned an answer. My application related to a domestic article in the Gentleman's magazine of August, 1788, (p. 698,)[228] which had lately fallen into my hands, and concerning which I requested some farther lights. Mrs. Moss delivered the letters into my hands, but I doubt whether they will be of much service to me; the work appears far more difficult in the execution than in the idea, and as I am now taking my leave for some time of the library, I shall not make much progress in the memoirs of P. P. till I am on English ground. But is it indeed true, that I shall eat any Sussex pheasants this autumn? The event is in the book of Fate, and I cannot unroll the leaves of September and October. Should I reach Sheffield-place, I hope to find the whole family in a perfect state of existence, except a certain Maria Holroyd, my fair and _generous_ correspondent, whose annihilation on proper terms I most fervently desire. I must receive a copious answer before the end of next month, June, and again call upon you for a map of your political World. The Chancellor roars; does he break his chain? _Vale._*

[218] _The Jockey Club; or, A Sketch of the Manners of the Age_ (Parts i., ii., iii.), by Charles Pigott, is an attack on monarchy and aristocracy, a defence of the French Revolution, and an appeal to Fox to use his influence in favour of France in a war which is "the general cause of all human nature. It is the cause of sovereigns and certain individuals enjoying exclusive privileges to the injury of the rest, against the combined immortal cause of the whole world."

[219] On April 30, 1792, Mr. Grey, in consequence of a resolution adopted by the "Friends of the People," gave notice of his intention to move for an inquiry into the representative system. On this notice a debate followed. Grey was supported by Fox. Pitt, on the other hand, declared that if ever there was a time when such a question should not be raised, the present was that time. Burke spoke in the same sense, attacking Paine's _Rights of Man_, and all clubs and societies which recommended the principles of that work. On May 6, 1792, Grey presented a petition from the "Friends of the People," in which the abuses of the electoral system were exposed, and moved that it be referred to a committee. After a debate of two nights, he found only forty-one supporters.

[220] Gibbon probably refers to the "Friends of the People," an association for the reform of the representative system, to which Lord Lauderdale, Grey, Sheridan, Erskine, and twenty-five other members of Parliament belonged.

[221] Berne.

[222] Dumouriez, in April, 1792, despatched three armies to invade Belgium. The column directed against Tournay dispersed, and murdered Dillon, their commander. That which marched against Mons fled as soon as they came in sight of the Austrians near Jemappes.

[223] Name erased.

[224] "Cet audacieux et rusé Harris" is the phrase used by Mirabeau of Lord Malmesbury (_Cour de Berlin_, _Lettre_ xxxvii., vol. ii. p. 13).

[225] Gibbon's library at Lausanne was bought, in 1796, from Lord Sheffield by Beckford for £950. Beckford shut himself up in it "for six weeks, from early in the morning until night, only now and then taking a ride," and read himself "nearly blind" (Cyrus Redding's "Recollections of the Author of Vathek," _New Monthly Magazine_, vol. lxxi. p. 307). Growing tired of it, he gave it to Dr. Scholl, a physician at Lausanne. Miss Berry, who visited the library in July, 1803 (_Journals and Letters_, vol. ii. p. 260), says, "It is, of all the libraries I ever saw, that of which I should most covet the possession--that which seems exactly everything that any gentleman or gentlewoman fond of letters could wish." "Gibbon's library," says Henry Mathews in 1818 (_Diary of an Invalid_, p. 318), "still remains, but it is buried and lost to the world. It is the property of Mr. Beckford, and lies locked up in an uninhabited house at Lausanne." In 1830 the library was divided into two parts. Half was sold for £500 to an English gentleman; the other half went at the same price to a bookseller at Geneva. The half which was sold to an English purchaser was, in 1876 (_Notes and Queries_, 5th series, vol. v. p. 425), still kept together in the possession of a Swiss gentleman near Geneva.

[226] John Nichols, F.S.A. (1745-1826), the author of numerous works of great literary and historical value, and from 1778 to 1826 printer, proprietor, and, from 1792, sole manager of the _Gentleman's Magazine_, to which he constantly contributed.

[227] The letter is published in the _Gentleman's Magazine_ for January, 1794.

[228] The letter referred to in the _Gentleman's Magazine_ is signed "N. S." It gives the Gibbon pedigree from 1596 down to the historian. It no doubt at first attracted Gibbon's attention from the circumstance of its immediately preceding a communication entitled "Strictures on Some Passages in Mr. Gibbon's History." The article in the _Gentleman's Magazine_ was by Sir Egerton Brydges, whose grandmother was a Gibbon, the heiress of Edward Gibbon of West Cliff, and first cousin to the South Sea director who was the historian's grandfather. Gibbon's letter on the subject to Sir Egerton Brydges is quoted by the latter in his _Autobiography_ (vol. i. pp. 225-227).

590.

_Lord Sheffield to Edward Gibbon._

Your former letter said you should be very sure, very high & select. You now say you are not merchants, &c. General Bude[229] (a Genevois) recommended Dergueuse. The Duke of Leeds, hearing that he was known to me, desired Glover to enquire of me by letter. I advised Leigneur not to propose or trouble himself about terms, but to let General Bude do whatever was necessary of that kind. He has been at Moins sometime. He came from thence here, and is much pleased with his good fortune. Lord Carnarvon is older than we imagined. If there are the means at Lausanne of interesting Genl. Bude in favour of S[every], it might be usefull. I should make an agreement for S. or not according to the rank or character of the Principles; but I really do not know what salary should be thought of--you should give me some hint thereon. When I answered Glover, I told him if he should hear of any considerable Family who wished to have a friend to attend a son, that you and I could recommend one that would be very desireable. You are so awkward and careless about letters that I do not like to write to you except about matters that might be published at Charing-cross.

As to your £3000 debentures, I apprehend I have explained them to you before. Hammersley's Banking House has advanced £40,000 on Lord Barrymore's Estate in Ireland (£10,000 per annum at least); they have 6 per cent., and have raised the money by Debentures, giving the same security and £20,000 in the funds in addition. Their house and the £20,000 answerable for the interest. It is thought an _excellent thing_, and Pelham transferred it to me as a Friend. If you do not like it at any time you may have premium on selling. I wish you to indulge your own notions as to this matter and not to mind mine. I am not fond of being responsible as to other property than land. The Debentures are in the custody of Goslings, to enable them to receive at Hammersley's the interest half yearly.

[Sidenote: GIBBON'S TABBY APPREHENSIONS.]

Your Tabby apprehensions about your writings are silly enough--you have none except the mortgage on Buriton and Newhaven, and those being blended in your conveyance of the Estates, the Title of the purchaser and your security are the same, and if your counterpart were lost, the Title of the Purchaser would be your security. The Mortgage Deeds of Buriton are in my archive, very properly as Trustee. Instead of your curious notion of sending the writings in Batt's custody for the sake of safety to Lausanne, it will be better to send them in their Box to Gosling's Iron-room, to appease your fears. I had settled with Batt to examine the List when I go next to Town. Your Navigation Mortgage is in Gosling's hands. I had lately heard of a £3000 mortgage in this county that I thought would do, but they talked of only 3½ per Ct.

I have had a new care lately which has occupied me as much as possible. I mean the French clergy; above 1200 have landed in this country. I have exerted myself in their favour; I have succeeded pretty well in obviating prejudice in respect to the rise of provisions by the arrival of so many friends. There is little in respect to the arrival of so many popish priests.

Tell Lady Eliza I have written a very pretty letter long ago, & I am surprised she has not received it.

[229] Probably General Budé, who is mentioned by Madame d'Arblay as holding an appointment about the court at Windsor (_Diary and Letters_, iii. 40).

591.

_Lord Sheffield to Edward Gibbon._

Sheffield Place, 30 July, 1792.

If I had not been bothered in a superlative degree since my return from London with much company, Navigation and County Meetings, &c., I should have favoured you with my opinion on the state of things. Twice each week I intended so to do at some length, and now I begin just before I set out for the Camp at Bagshot.[230]

I have watched the origin, impression and progress of the French Revolution, both in France and in the other Governments in Europe, and I am fully convinced that if our Good Old Island had been drawn into the torrent of the new Philosophy, Holland, Germany, Spain, &c., would have followed her, and we should have seen all Europe involved in the extravagances of irreligion, immorality, anarchy, and barbarism. Our nature being at all times essentially the same, I presume that after a certain period of ferociousness and horrors, a resettlement of some sort, probably of the most despotic governments, would have taken place. The devastation of the Species might be repaired, and at the end of a couple of centuries it is possible that Science, the fine Arts, and the politeness and gentleness of Society, might again have been brought to the point at which they now are. Perhaps you may recollect that on the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire a greater number of centuries were necessary for restoration. I really believe there is nothing exaggerated in this speculation.

[Sidenote: OPPOSITION AND GOVERNMENT.]

Having these opinions, I highly approved and cordially promoted the conduct of Opposition at such a crisis. They have come to the Aid of Government fairly and unreservedly, and many, even zealously, particularly the Dukes of Portland, Devonshire, Lord Fitzwilliam, Guilford, Spencer, Egremont, Ashburnham, Stormont, Loughborough, Windham of Norfolk, Sir Gilbert Elliott, in short almost everybody except about a score who had committed themselves with Mr. Grey, many of whom are heartily sick of the business.[231] The attempt at an Association has in truth had an excellent effect. It has alarmed, roused and combined men in support of the Constitution and of good order. It will at last appear that there exists no great object or principle of party difference. It may lead to the formation of the strongest administration this country has ever known, and at a time when there should be no risk. It should be the first of all objects in these feverish times to guard against all possibility of phrenzy. At present there is very little amiss among men of property. The Dissenters however wait a good occasion for some change.[232] The great care should be to prevent the mass of the people from being inflamed and made the tools of those who would risk anything to gain certain points or situations. It is essential to engage, to occupy the best of those.

There never was such an opportunity as at present of forming a good administration. Several openings can be easily made in the Cabinet and elsewhere without essential derangement. Lord Thurlow is gone,[233] Lord Campden wishes to go, Marquis of Stafford is willing to go, and Dundas is only _locum tenens_.[234] The concurrence in favour of the Constitution has greatly softened the asperity of party. I never observed so great a change, and I am convinced a junction would be generally liked by the respectable men of all parties and descriptions.

[Sidenote: CAN PITT AND FOX COMBINE?]

There is a difficulty and that is great. Whether insurmountable I cannot say. How to arrange Pompey and Caesar--Pitt and Fox. Government has candidly said it is not strong enough, the candour of the avowal has tended rather to conciliate than to animate opposition. Lord Loughborough has had a conversation with Pitt and Dundas.[235] I scout the idea of the Party coming in without Fox. He has behaved, at all times, honourably to them and they will behave honourably towards him. Even if they were capable of quitting him, it would be foolish to leave him to bear the discontent of the country. Neither Fox nor Pitt should be suffered to be in that situation. Even if the King were to send for the Duke of Portland and desire him to form an administration, the best answer would be that he could not, without Mr. Pitt, form one which would be sufficiently firm and strong enough to carry on business as it should be, especially at this time. Both parties are too strong to suffer Government to go on efficaciously without them: but how to arrange Fox & Pitt, so that one should not seem to yield too much to the other, there is the rub. I should think it the most patriotick act to settle that matter. I discover no animosity, no rancour, no interest likely to make the parties disagree if once united, nothing that would dispose them to circumvent. I think it the interest of both our Orators to unite. I never supposed I should find it the wish of so many of the first men of the Country as I do. It appears to me to be greatly Pitt's interest. The regret of both King and Queen on the dismission of the Chancellor is well known. If Pitt should make an handsome fair offer to Fox (I do not know the latter is averse) and he should refuse, especially after the late business of Grey, it will prejudice Fox much with his party. If, on the other hand, Pitt should directly or indirectly aim at excluding him, the overture that has been made and the evident want of strength in Government would exasperate some, and encourage others to a redoubled spirit of opposition. Pitt must see that, if such an administration could be formed, there would be scarce a great family in opposition, and that distinction of party in that administration would soon be lost. Although the business is difficult I do not think it impossible. It is rather suspended than broke off. I should have supposed the Duke of Richmond most likely of all to be averse to it, but I find him much disposed to a junction.

Maria amuses herself very much with my conciliating and amiable moderation, but you will discover that my present disposition is perfectly consistent with the opinion I always had of the advantage to the Country at all times, and the necessity in these times, of a firm and strong Government.

I have now inflicted on you and myself a large _dose_.

Give us intelligence of you forthwith. When you set out. Which road you take. The French subject is too much to begin on. The Jacobins are _au comble_. Such execrable animals should be extirpated.

Pray acquaint Lady Elizabeth that I have this moment rec^{d}. her letter, that we wished it had been longer, and that I shall endeavour to collect something for her amusement very speedily. Present my best compliments also to the Duchess.

[230] A large number of troops were assembled at Bagshot Camp on July 23, and were reviewed by the king on July 26, and engaged in sham-fights on July 27, 30, 31.

[231] On May 21, 1792, the king issued a proclamation against tumultuous meetings and seditious writings. Both Houses concurred in an address of thanks to the king for the proclamation (June 1). The question divided the Whig party, the majority of which from this time supported Pitt. Fox for the next few years scarcely mustered fifty followers.

[232] Lord Sheffield expressed an opinion which at the time was common. The sympathy which was avowed by leading Nonconformists with some of the objects of the Revolution was not unnaturally misinterpreted at a period of public excitement. Dr. Price was chairman of the Revolution Society, which corresponded with various societies in France. Their correspondence with French clubs was published in 1792; but it is significant that the letters on the king's escape and subsequent arrest, sent to the Jacobin Club in 1791, the existence of which was revealed by the answer of the Jacobins, were omitted from the publication. Dr. Priestley, subsequently elected to the National Convention, presided at the meeting of the Unitarian Society at the King's Head Tavern, in February, 1791, when, among other toasts, "Thomas Paine and the Rights of Man," and "The National Assembly of France, and may every tyrannical government undergo a similar revolution," were drunk with enthusiasm. Such distinguished Nonconformists as Dr. Kippis, Dr. Rees, and Dr. Towers were also prominent members of these or similar societies. The Society of Constitutional Whigs, who addressed the National Assembly in the autumn of 1792, declaring that, if any attempt were made to enslave the French people, they would die in their defence, also appealed to Dissenters. In _A Few Queries to the Methodists in General_ occurs the following:--"_Query_: Does not both reason and revelation teach us, that in order to lay the axe at the root of the tree of wickedness, we must begin with kings and princes, and bishops and priests?"

[233] Lord Chancellor Thurlow, whose influence with the king was immense, and whose intrigues with Fox at the time of the Regency Bill were well known, opposed Pitt's Sinking Fund and the Bill for the encouragement of the growth of timber in the New Forest, and denounced his colleagues as traitors to the interest of their sovereign. He was dismissed from the Lord Chancellorship in June, 1792.

[234] The actual fusion of parties did not take place till July, 1794, when Lord Camden had died and Lord Stafford retired, and Dundas, retaining the Colonies, resigned the Secretaryship at War to Windham. It was delayed by the indecision of the Duke of Portland, of whom Lady Malmesbury said, "The Duke of Portland is our Duke of Brunswick--no party will be led to victory by either" (_Life and Letters of Sir G. Elliot_, vol. ii. p. 72).

[235] Lord Loughborough, Lord Malmesbury, the Duke of Portland, and Dundas attempted to effect a coalition between Pitt and Fox in the summer and autumn of 1792. The negotiations failed. "Fox," says Lord Malmesbury (July 30, 1792), "made Pitt's quitting the Treasury a _sine quâ non_, and was so opinionative and fixed about it, that it was impossible even to reason with him on the subject." "You see how it is," said Burke; "Mr. Fox's coach stops the way."

592.

_To his Stepmother._

Lausanne, August 1st, 1792.

MY DEAREST FRIEND,

Notwithstanding all the arts of our great Enemy, the Demon of procrastination, I should not have postponed for so many months a pleasing duty, which may at any time be performed in a single hour, had I not for some time past entertained a lively and probable hope of visiting you this autumn in person; had I not flattered myself, that the very next post I might be able to fix the day of my departure from Lausanne, and almost of my arrival at the Belvidere. That hope is now vanished, and my journey to England is unavoidably delayed till the spring or summer of next year. *The extraordinary state of public affairs in France opposes an insuperable bar to my passage; and every prudent stranger will avoid that inhospitable land, in which a people of slaves is suddenly become a nation of tyrants and cannibals. The German road is indeed safe, but, independent of a great addition of fatigue and expence, the armies of Austria and Prussia now cover that frontier; and though the Generals are polite, and the troops well disciplined, I am not desirous of passing through the Clouds of Hussars and Pandours that attend their motions. These public reasons are fortified by some private motives, and to this delay I resign myself with a sigh for the present, and a hope for the future.

[Sidenote: TAINT OF DEMOCRATICAL INFECTION.]

What a strange wild World do we live in! You will allow me to be a tolerable historian, yet, on a fair review of ancient and modern times, I can find none that bear any affinity with the present. My knowledge of your discerning mind, and my recollection of your political principles, assure me, that you are no more a _Democrat_ than myself. Had the French improved their glorious opportunity to erect a free constitutional Monarchy on the ruins of arbitrary power and the Bastile, I should applaud their generous effort; but this total subversion of all rank, order, and government, could be productive only of a popular monster, which after devouring every thing else, must finally devour itself. I was once apprehensive that this monster would propagate some imps in our happy island, but they seem to have been crushed in the cradle; and I acknowledge with pleasure and pride the good sense of the English nation, who seem truly conscious of the blessings which they enjoy: and I am happy to find that the most respectable part of opposition has cordially joyned in the support of "things as they are." Even this country has been somewhat tainted with the Democratical infection: the vigilance of Government has been exerted, the malecontents have been awed, the misguided have been undeceived, the feaver in the blood has gradually subsided, and I flatter myself that we have secured the tranquil enjoyment of obscure felicity, which we had been almost tempted to despise.

You have heard, most probably, from Mrs. Holroyd, of the long-expected though transient satisfaction which I received from the visit of the Sheffield family. He appeared highly satisfied with my arrangements here, my house, garden, and situation, at once in town and country, which are indeed singular in their kind, and which have often made me regret the impossibility of showing them to my dearest friend of the Belvidere. Lord S. is still, and will ever continue, the same active being, always employed for himself, his friends, and the public, and always persuading himself that he wishes for leisure and repose.* He has now a new care on his hands, the management and disposal of his eldest daughter, who is indeed a most extraordinary young woman. *There are various roads to happiness; but when I compare his situation with mine, I do not, upon the whole, repent that I have given the preference to a life of celibacy and retirement. Although I have been long a spectator of the great World, my unambitious temper has been content with the occupations and rewards of study; and although my library be still my favourite room, I am now no longer stimulated by the prosecution of any litterary work. The society of Lausanne is adapted to my taste; my house is open to many agreeable acquaintance, and some real friends; the uniformity of the natives is enlivened by travellers of all nations; and this summer I am happy in a familiar intercourse with Lady Spencer, the Dutchess of Devonshire, Lady Elizabeth Foster, and Lady Duncannon, who seems to be gradually recovering from her dreadful complaints. My health is remarkably good. I have now enjoyed a long interval from the gout; and I endeavour to use with moderation Dr. Cadogan's best remedies, temperance, exercise, and cheerfulness. Adieu, Dear Madam; may every blessing that Nature can allow be attendant on your latter season! Your age and my habits will not permit a very close correspondence; but I wish to hear, and I _presume_ to ask, a speedy _direct_ account of your own situation. May it be such as I shall hear with pleasure! Once more Adieu; I live in hopes of embracing you next summer at the Belvidere, but you may be assured that I bring over nothing for the press.*

593.

_To Lord Sheffield._

Lausanne, August 23rd, 1792.

*When I inform you that the design of my English expedition is at last postponed to another year, you will not be much surprized. The public obstacles, the danger of one road, and the difficulties of another, would alone be sufficient to arrest so unwieldy and inactive a Being; and these obstacles on the side of France, are growing every day more insuperable. On the other hand, the terrors, which might have driven me from hence, have in a great measure, subsided; our state prisoners are forgot; the country begins to recover its old good humour and unsuspecting confidence, and the last revolution of Paris appears to have convinced almost every body of the fatal consequences of Democratical principles, which lead by a path of flowers into the Abyss of Hell. I may therefore wait with patience and tranquillity till the Duke of Brunswick shall have opened the French road. But if I am not driven from Lausanne, you will ask, I hope with some indignation, whether I am not drawn to England, and more especially to Sheffield-place? The desire of embracing you and yours is now the strongest, and must gradually become the sole, inducement that can force me from my library and garden, over seas and mountains. The English World will forget and be forgotten, and every year will deprive me of some acquaintance, who by courtesy are styled friends: Lord Guilford[236] and Sir Joshua Reynolds![237] two of the men, and two of the houses in London, on whom I the most relied for the comforts of society.*

Even the satisfaction which I promised myself at Sheffield would at present be----

September 12th, 1792.

[Sidenote: BRUNSWICK MARCHES ON PARIS.]

*Thus far had I written in the full confidence of finishing and sending my letter the next post; but six post-days have unaccountably slipped away, and were you not accustomed to my silence, you would almost begin to think me on the road. How dreadfully, since my last date, has the French road been polluted with blood! and what horrid scenes may be acting at this moment, and may still be aggravated, till the Duke of Brunswick[238] is master of Paris! On every rational principle of calculation he must succeed; yet sometimes, when my spirits are low, I dread the blind efforts of mad and desperate multitudes fighting on their own ground. A few days or weeks must decide the military operations of this year, and perhaps for ever; but on the fairest supposition, I cannot look forwards to any firm settlement, either of a legal or an absolute government. I cannot pretend to give you any Paris news. Should I inform you, as we believe, that _Lally[239] is still among the cannibals_, you would possibly answer, that he is now sitting in the library at Sheffield. Madame de Stael,[240] after miraculously escaping through pikes and poniards, has reached the castle of Copet, where I shall see her before the end of the week. If any thing can provoke the King of Sardinia and the Swiss, it must be the foul destruction of _his_ cousin Madame de Lamballe, and of _their_ regiment of guards.[241] An extraordinary council is summoned at Berne, _but resentment may be checked by prudence_. In spite of Maria's laughter, I applaud your moderation, and sigh for a hearty union of all the sense and property of the country. The times require it; but your last political letter was a cordial to my spirits. The Duchess of D. rather dislikes a coalition: amiable creature! The Eliza (we call her Bess) is furious against you for not writing. We shall lose them in a few days; but the motions of Bess and the Duchess for Italy or England, are doubtful. Ladies Spencer and Duncannon certainly pass the Alps. I live with them.*

The interesting subjects of our late correspondence seem to have obliterated all memory of my private concerns, which have suffered as usual a rub when we thought them finally terminated. Although my ideas about money matters are grown somewhat confused, I do not believe there is much _caput mortuum_ left, and have no doubt that the different channels of interest will be properly filled at Michaelmas, but I should be glad to see the greatest part of my decreasing short annuities well secured in a mortgage, and I flatter myself that yourself and agents are alive to that pursuit. But I must again put you in mind of two interesting queries to which I have not yet received any answer. 1. What is the nature of the three thousand pounds debentures which you purchased last Winter? Who is my debtor? and what and where is my security? Surely this is no idle curiosity on my side. 2. I wished to know in what hands the different deeds of my property are vested, and to possess something like a written attestation. The Buriton Mortgage and the aforesaid debentures are very properly, as I suppose, in Lord Sheffield's iron chest. _Fort bien._ My short annuities in their own books and in Mr. E. Darrel's--_pas mal_; my Sussex Navigation and India Bonds with Gosling, _passe encore_: but my claims on you, the Newhaven Mortgage and the Annuity are delivered--are they not, to Mr. Batt, an honourable but a sickly man? Should he fail, have we any to exhibit to his unknown heir? If delicacy, false delicacy, forbids your asking for a receipt, or taking them, which I should like better, into your own custody, I must seriously desire they may be sent over to me. Did I not express some anxiety on this head, you would have a right to call me a very careless fellow.

There are some minor matters which you may find in my long letter;[242] such as a request to settle a shameful obsolete bill, my only one, at Wedgwood's, and to enquire whether Mr. John Nichols, bookseller in Red Lion Passage, Fleet Street, did not receive a letter from me last March which he has never answered. But I must insist on a hogshead of Madeira announced, shipped, and, I believe, paid six months ago, but which has never reached my lips or my cellar. This must be explored. *Adieu. Since I do not appear in person, I feel the absolute propriety of writing to my lady and Maria; but there is far from the knowledge to the performance of a duty.*

Ever yours, E. G.

[236] Lord Guilford, better known as Lord North, died August 5, 1792.

[237] Sir Joshua Reynolds died February 23, 1792.

[238] The Duke of Brunswick, as commander-in-chief of the combined armies of Austria and Prussia, issued his manifesto on July 25, 1792, before crossing the French frontier and directing his march on Paris.

[239] Lally left France for Switzerland after October, 1789, and thence passed to England. Realizing the dangerous position of the king and royal family, he returned to Paris in May, 1792, and with Bertrand-Molleville, Malouet, La Fayette, and others, endeavoured to effect the escape of the king and queen. On August 10, 1792, he was arrested and imprisoned in the Abbaye. On August 22, 1792, ten days before the September massacres, the French Minister of Foreign Affairs informed the National Assembly that Lally Tollendal demanded a passport for England, of which country he had become a naturalized subject. He also produced a letter from Lord Gower claiming Lally as a British subject. According to Madame de Staël he owed his escape to Condorcet.

[240] Madame de Staël, in her _Considérations sur la Révolution Française_ (ed. 1818, tom. ii. ch. x.), describes her appearance before Robespierre at the Hôtel de Ville in the Place de Grève, and attributes her escape, on September 2-3, 1792, to Manuel.

[241] Marie Thérèse de Savoie-Carignan married, in 1767, Louis de Bourbon-Penthièvre, Prince de Lamballe. She was murdered at La Force in the September massacres of 1792, and her head, raised on a pike, was paraded before the windows of the Temple where the queen was confined. The Swiss Guard, nearly eight hundred in number, were massacred in the attack upon the Tuileries on August 10, 1792. Of the few who escaped, fifty-four were murdered in the Abbaye at the September massacres. Their death is commemorated by Thorwaldsen's lion at Lucerne.

[242] See letter of May 30, 1792.

594.

_To Mr. Cadell._

Lausanne, Sept. 28th, 1792.

DEAR SIR,

[Sidenote: EVERY DAY MORE SEDENTARY.]

As you must have been informed by Lord Sheffield of my approaching arrival, I trust that you will feel some disappointment when you are told by myself that my journey to England is delayed to another year. The cause of this delay proceeds solely from the troubles of the continent. It would be madness to venture my life in the land of Cannibals, and the circuitous route by Germany would be attended with a large increase of trouble and expense. I grow every day more sedentary, and could I have the pleasure of shewing you my house, my library, and my garden, you would not be surprised that I should quit them with some reluctance. You may perhaps be likewise disappointed at hearing that I shall probably come empty-handed. A variety of untoward circumstances have contributed to encrease my indolence. I cannot please myself with the choice of a subject, and it may be prudent to enjoy rather than expose my historical fame.

Several months ago I wrote a very civil letter to _Mr. John. Nichols, Bookseller at Cicero's head, Red Lion Passage, Fleet Street_, which (had he received it) I can scarcely persuade myself he would have left without an answer. It related to a very curious paper about the Gibbon family inserted in the Gentleman's Magazine, August, 1788, p. 698, which had just fallen into my hands. I wished to know the author and by what means I could correspond with him on the subject. Perhaps you may be able, and I am sure you are willing, to clear up that point and put me in a proper channel by a personal application either to the aforesaid John Nichols or to some other person concerned in the Gentleman's Magazine.

Be so kind as to inform Elmsley of what he will hardly believe, that I am preparing materials for a letter to him, with a long list of commissions. Among these I wish you boldly to introduce the works of merit, history, travels, literature, philosophy, and even extraordinary novels which bear your authentic stamp.

My best compliments to Mr. Strahan.

595.

_To Lord Sheffield._

Lausanne, October 5th, 1792.

[Sidenote: FRENCH INVASION OF SAVOY.]

*As our English newspapers must have informed you of the invasion of Savoy[243] by the French, and as it is possible that you may have some trifling apprehensions of my being killed and eaten by those Cannibals, it has appeared to me that a short extraordinary dispatch might not be unacceptable on this occasion. It is indeed true, that about ten days ago the French army of the south, under the command of Mr. de Montesquiou, (if any French army can be said to be under any command,) has entered Savoy, and possessed themselves of Chamberry, Montmelian, & several other places. It has always been the practise of the King of Sardinia to abandon his transalpine dominions; but on this occasion the Court of Turin appears to have been surprized by the strange eccentric motions of a Democracy, which always acts from the passion of the moment; and their inferior troops have retreated, with some loss and disgrace, into the passes of the Alps. Mount Cenis is now impervious, and our English travellers who are bound for Italy, the Dutchesses of Devonshire, Ancaster, &c., will be forced to explore a long circuitous road through the Tirol. But the Chablais is yet intact, nor can our telescopes discover the tricolor banners on the other side of the lake. Our accounts of the French numbers seem to vary from fifteen to thirty thousand men; the regulars are few, but they are followed by a rabble rout, which must soon, however, melt away, as they will find no plunder, and scanty subsistence, in the poverty and barrenness of Savoy. N.B. I have just seen a letter from M. de M., who boasts that at his first entrance into Savoy he had only twelve battalions. Our intelligence is far from correct.

The Magistrates of Geneva were alarmed by this dangerous neighbourhood, and more especially by the well known animosity of an exiled citizen, Claviere,[244] who is one of the six ministers of the French Republic. It was carried by a small Majority in the general council, to call in the succour of three thousand Swiss, which is stipulated by ancient treaty. The strongest reason or pretence of the minority, was founded on the danger of provoking the French, and they seem to have been justified by the event; since the complaint of the French resident amounts to a declaration of War. The fortifications of Geneva are not contemptible, especially on the side of Savoy; and it is much doubted whether M. de Montesquiou is prepared for a regular siege; but the malcontents are numerous within the walls, and I question whether the spirit of the citizens would hold out against a bombardment. In the meanwhile the diet has declared, that the first canon fired against Geneva will be considered as an act of hostility against the whole Helvetic body. Berne, as the nearest and most powerful Canton, has taken the lead with great vigour and vigilance; the road is filled with the perpetual succession of troops and artillery; and, if some disaffection lurks in the towns, the peasants, especially the Germans, are inflamed with a strong desire of encountering the murderers of their Countrymen. Mr. de Watteville, with whom you dined at my house last year, refused to accept the command of the Swiss succour of Geneva, till it was made his first instruction that he should never, in any case, surrender himself prisoner of War.

In this situation, you may suppose that we have some fears. I have great dependence, however, on the many chances in our favour, the valour of the Swiss, the return of the Piedmontese with their Austrian allies, 8 or 10 thousand men from the Milanese, a diversion from Spain, the great events (how slowly they proceed) on the side of Paris, the inconstancy and want of discipline of the French, and the near approach of the winter season. I am not nervous, but I will not be rash. It will be painful to abandon my house and library; but if the danger should approach, I will retreat before it, first to Bern, and gradually to the North. Should I even be forced to take refuge in England (a violent measure so late in the year) you would perhaps receive me as kindly as you do the French priests--a noble act of hospitality! Could I have foreseen this storm, I would have been there six months ago; but who can foresee the wild measures of the Savages of Gaul? We thought ourselves perfectly out of the Hurricane latitudes. Adieu. I am going to bed, and must rise early to visit the Neckers at Rolle, whither they have retired, from the frontier situation of Copet. Severy is on horseback, with his dragoons: his poor father is dangerously ill. It will be shocking if it should be found necessary to remove him. While we are in this very awkward crisis, I will write at least every week.

Ever yours, E. G.

Write instantly, and remember all my commissions.

I will keep my promise of sending you a weekly journal of our troubles, that, when the piping times of peace are restored, I may sleep in long and irreproachable silence; but I shall use a smaller paper, as our military exploits will seldom be sufficient to fill the ample size of an English quarto.*

[243] On September 21, 1792, without any declaration of war, Montesquieu entered Savoy, seized Montmélian and Chambéry, and in a few days overran the whole duchy. In Piedmont the French troops under General Anselme, supported by Admiral Truguet and the Toulon fleet, captured Nice and Villa Franca. The Duchy of Savoy was incorporated with France in November, 1792, as the Department of Mont-Blanc, and the Comté of Nice as the Department of the Maritime Alps.

[244] Etienne Clavière (1735-1793), formerly a banker in Geneva, had been banished in 1784 for his writings. As a member of the Executive Council, he urged upon his colleagues the attack upon Geneva, and orders to that effect were given to Montesquieu by Servan, the Minister of War. Geneva appealed for aid to Zurich and Berne under a treaty of 1584, and prepared for defence. A treaty was signed, October 22, 1792, between Montesquieu and the Republic of Geneva, slightly modified by a fresh treaty signed on November 2. By its terms the French troops were to withdraw, and the Swiss troops, sent by the cantons of Zurich and Berne, were to evacuate Geneva by December 1, 1792. Clavière committed suicide in 1793.

596.

_To Lord Sheffield._

October 13th, 1792.

[Sidenote: GENEVA THREATENED.]

*Since my last of the 6th, our attack is not more imminent, and our defence is most assuredly stronger, two very important circumstances, at a time when every day is leading us, though not so fast as our impatience could wish, towards the unwarlike month of November; and we observe with pleasure that the troops of M. de Montesquiou, which are chiefly from the southern provinces, will not chearfully entertain the rigour of an Alpine Winter.

The 7th instant, M. de Chateauneuf, the French resident,[245] took his leave with an haughty mandate, commanding the Genevois, as they valued their safety and the friendship of the Republic, to dismiss their Swiss allies, and to punish the Magistrates who had traiterously proposed the calling in these foreign troops. It is precisely the fable of the Wolves, who offered to make peace with the sheep, provided they would send away their dogs. You know what became of the sheep. This demand appears to have kindled a just and generous indignation, since it announced an Edict of proscription; and must lead to a Democratical revolution, which would probably renew the horrid scenes of Paris and Avignon. A General assembly of the Citizens was convened, the message was read, speeches were made, oaths were taken, and it was resolved, with only three dissentient votes, to live and dye in the defence of their country. The Genevois muster above three thousand well-armed citizens; and the Swiss, who may easily be encreased, in a few hours, to an equal number, add spirit to the timorous, and confidence to the well-affected: their arsenals are filled with arms, their magazines with ammunition, and their granaries with corn. But their fortifications are extensive and imperfect, they are commanded from two adjacent hills; a French faction lurks in the City; the character of the Genevois is rather commercial than military; and their behaviour, lofty promise, and base surrender, in the year 1782,[246] is fresh in our memories. In the meanwhile, 4000 French at the most are arrived in the neighbouring camp, nor is there yet any appearance of mortars or heavy artillery. Perhaps a haughty menace may be repelled by a firm countenance.

[Sidenote: GIBBON PREPARED FOR FLIGHT.]

If it were worth while talking of justice, what a shameful attack of a feeble unoffending state! On the news of their danger, all Switzerland, from Schaffouse to the Pays de Vaud, has risen in arms; and a French resident, who has passed through the country, in his way from Ratisbon, declares his intention of informing and admonishing the National convention. About eleven thousand Bernois are already posted in the neighbourhood of Copet and Nyon; and new reinforcements of men, artillery, &c., arrive every day. Another army is drawn together to oppose Mr. de Ferrieres, on the side of Bienne and the Bishoprick of Basle; and the Austrians in Swabia would be easily persuaded to cross the Rhine in our defence. But we are yet ignorant whether our sovereigns mean to wage offensive or defensive War. If the latter, which is more likely, will the French begin the attack? Should Geneva yield to fear or force, this country is open to an invasion; and though our men are brave, we want Generals; and I despise the French much less than I did two months ago. It should seem* from Trevor's letters, who is indeed low-spirited, *that our hopes from the King of Sardinia and the Austrians of Milan are faint and distant; Spain sleeps, and the Duke of Brunzwick (amazement!) seems to have failed in his great project. For my part, till Geneva falls, I do not think of a retreat; but, at all events, I am provided with two strong horses, and a hundred Louis in gold. Zurich would be probably my winter quarters, and the society of the Neckers would make any place agreable. Their situation is worse than mine: I have no daughter ready to lye in;[247] nor do I fear the French aristocrates on the road.

Adieu. Keep my letters; excuse contradictions and repetitions. The Dutchess of Devonshire leaves us next week. Lady Elizabeth abhorrs you.*

Ever yours, E. G.

[245] At Geneva.

[246] At Geneva the Government was vested in the two hundred and fifty citizens who composed the _Petit Conseil_ and the _Conseil des Deux-Cents_. Against this hereditary oligarchy Rousseau gave the signal of revolt by his _Lettres de la Montagne_ (1764). Two parties were formed: one, the _Représentants_, demanding a revision of the constitution; the other, _Négatifs_, opposing it. In 1781 the popular party gained the upper hand. The aristocratic party, appealing to the treaty of 1738, which only allowed constitutional changes to be made with the sanction of France and Sardinia, demanded the help of those two powers. A combined Swiss, French, and Sardinian force was sent, and in July, 1782, the popular party, who had promised to emulate the citizens of Saguntum, surrendered the city without a struggle, and the aristocratic constitution was restored. Brissot de Warville, as _le Philadelphien à Genève_, and Mallet du Pan were both eye-witnesses of the events of the revolution.

[247] Albert, the second son of Madame de Staël, was born at this time.

597.

_Lord Sheffield to Edward Gibbon._

Sheffield Place, 17th Oct., '92.

I have not patience to talk with you on the state of things, I am lamentably disappointed. De Custine's successful incursion[248] into Germany, to which he seems to have been invited by the placing a large Magazine with a small guard in an unarmed town within a day's march of the large garrison of Landau. In short, that circumstance and the negociations at St. Menehould and the retreat of the combined armies[249] have totally deranged all my notions of dignity, generalship, preponderance of military discipline, &c., &c., and all my speculations, moral, religious, political, and military, are sent into a troubled sea without rudder or compass. I had always some anxiety concerning the subsistence of a very large army from the Frontier to Paris, if the French should make up their mind to, and they could, lay waste the country, destroying forage, &c.; but I had never supposed the enterprise would end so abruptly in disgrace and calamity. I now see no prospect of any speedy settlement of French disturbances. The miscreants at Paris, encouraged by an appearance of success, will be active to extend their mischiefs, and my apprehensions are by no means quiet with respect to our own affairs.

Among the Dissenters it is thought there are a great many disposed to change. I am very far from satisfied with Charles Fox, much less with Gray, Lord Lauderdale, &c. Even in the trumpery town of Lewes there are some who hold meetings and correspond with certain Societies of the worst kind in the Borough, and of which you have probably heard; one of the creatures at Lewes said lately that, if the French business succeeded in any degree, it was perfectly sure that England would be in the same state as France is now in, before the end of ten years, and another declared that England would never do well until 5000 of the Nobility & Gentry were hung up.

[Sidenote: DISCONTENT IN IRELAND.]

Ireland is in no slight degree of alarm.[250] The Roman Catholicks are much discontented. A ship-load of arms was lately landed for the discontented in the North. They have the impudence to exercise even in the neighbourhood of Drogheda. The natives return to their old tricks of shooting _Christians_ in a most treacherous manner, and even in what is called the most civilized parts, and of houghing _Protestant cattle_. If the Government of Ireland continues to be feeble and not to act with firmness it may be difficult to say how matters will end--but there never was a time less favourable to the insurrection of Roman Catholicks, than the moment when it will not be possible for them to have assistance from foreign countries.

I am sorry the early meeting of Parliament which I announced to you, is not confirmed, yet I think it would have been a wise measure to have brought men together early, and not to have suffered the impressions made by the extravagance and cruelty of the Jacobins to wear out, or perhaps to receive a contrary direction. The worst cause when it seems fortunate will find defenders perhaps, but certainly will not want partisans.

Mrs. Moss[251] has sent us a curious account of the dismay which took place in the Geneva State on the incursion into Savoy; but amidst all the calamities, we are glad to find from her, you are in good condition. I consider the French affairs so far out of the line of common Politicks, that I wish the whole world to declare against them, and run them down as pestiferous wolves, and therefore I wish all Switzerland to join against them; but I doubt whether it will be the policy of that country to engage in offensive war; and I suppose Geneva will not admit Swiss troops, if it will bring on a bombardment. I cannot conceive why some of the passes into Savoy were not defended. I long to hear that the retreat of the French is cut off. I am sorry I can see no prospect of the interference of this country. I think we might at least tell them, they must not fit out fleets against Nice or any place. Among many correspondents, and some of them the best informed, I find there is not the most distant guess of the intentions of Government. Perhaps they have no plan.

I believe my last mentioned that I have been much employed, by an attention to the poor refugees. Lally has been here and is gone, to return in a few days with the princess d'Henin and the Pauline.[252] We have had the most curious details, and just now, from some respectable priests who were shut up with the Archbishop of Arles, &c., when the latter were massacred. Possibly you may not have so good an account at Lausanne, therefore I shall urge Maria to write it to you. The late massacres[253] are infinitely more execrable than any French or English paper have stated.

We are exceedingly sorry to hear by Mrs. Moss, that M. de Severy is ill. You shall hear no more from hence untill you write to us.

[248] Adam de Custine (1740-1794), a veteran of the Seven Years' and American Wars, commanded part of the French army of the Rhine. He made himself master of Spire, Worms, Mayence, and Frankfort; but was afterwards driven out of the two latter places by the Prussians. He was executed at Paris January 3, 1794.

[249] The Prussian army, entangled in the wood of Argonne between the Meuse and the Marne, were outgeneralled by Dumouriez and Kellerman. The Duke of Brunswick, after the battle of Valmy (September 20), opened negotiations with Dumouriez (September 22-28) at Ste. Menehould, and then (October 1) retreated across the French frontier. The Austrians failed to take Lille, and, at the approach of Dumouriez, retired into the Low Countries (October 8). Dumouriez, following them, won the battle of Jemappes (November 6), and overran Belgium. At the same time the French troops were masters of Savoy and Nice, and of the country between the Rhine and the Maine. Fox rejoiced at the flight of the invaders. "No public event, not excepting Saratoga and York Town, ever happened that gave me so much delight" (C. J. F. to Lord Holland, October 12, 1792).

[250] The French Revolution had stirred the political spirit of the Irish nation as, ten years before, it had been aroused by the American War. It appealed most strongly to the people by the abolition of tithes and all religious disqualifications. The Presbyterians of the North were Republican in their sympathies, and ready to make common cause with the Roman Catholics for the repeal of all penal laws and the extension of the franchise. The United Irishmen were the growth of this approximation of parties. Among the Roman Catholics also there was a rapid spread of the democratic spirit. The English Government was ready to grant a liberal measure of Catholic relief and to extend the suffrage to the Roman Catholics. At first the Irish Government strongly opposed any change which threatened the maintenance of Protestant ascendency. But the danger of union between the Protestant Republicans and the Catholic democrats became apparent, when the Catholic Convention met at Dublin in December, 1792, and a Relief Bill, repealing many oppressive enactments and conceding the franchise, was carried, almost without opposition, in the beginning of 1793. The Roman Catholics, it may be added, were excluded from the Irish Parliament in the reign of William III. (3 W. & M. c. 2) and deprived of the franchise in that of George II. (1 Geo. II. c. 9). Lord Sheffield, as a later letter shows, agreed with the Lord Lieutenant, Lord Westmorland, in advocating resistance to the Catholics "_in limine_ and _in toto_," and in thinking that the suspicion, that the "British Government means to take up the Catholics, and to play what is called a Catholic game," would disastrously weaken the hold of the Government upon the country. Burke (_Correspondence_, vol. iv. p. 32) seems to suggest that Lord Sheffield was prejudiced by the possession of Irish property in the county of Louth.

[251] Miss C. Moss, a frequent visitor at Sheffield Place.

[252] Mdlle. Pauline de Pully.

[253] The massacres of September, 1792.

598.

_To Lord Sheffield._

October 20th, 1792.

*Since my last, our affairs take a more pacific turn; but I will not venture to affirm that our peace will be either safe or honourable. Mr. de Montesquiou and three Commissioners of the Convention, who are at Carrouge, have had several conferences with the Magistrates of Geneva; several expresses have been dispatched to and from Paris, and every step of the negotiation is communicated to the deputies of Bern and Zurich. The French troops observe a very tolerable degree of order and discipline: and no act of hostility has yet been committed on the territory of Geneva.*

599.

_The Hon. Maria Holroyd to Edward Gibbon._

Oct. 24th, '92.

[Sidenote: THE ARMÉE MONTESQUIEU.]

The amiable family at S. P. being infinitely delighted with your welcome dispatch, & still more so with the promise of writing _every week_, have had a dispute amongst themselves, who was to have the honor of answering you, & reminding you of that promise. I have gained permission to be the happy person, & happy I shall think myself, if you should direct _one_ of the promised Letters to me. We talk and think of nothing but foreign news, & Mama is very abusive of the Jacobins. Massacres have sometimes enraged me a little, but I have borne every thing with tolerable patience, except that Wretches, who have no other idea of liberty, than the liberty of murdering defenceless prisoners, should dare to think of attacking a Nation, whose Ideas of freedom are not so _refined_ as theirs, & whose valour is almost proverbial. Though I am perfectly satisfied that the tricolor Banner will never be erected in the town of Lausanne, yet I am very anxious to hear what becomes of the _Armée Montesquiou_. I am always wishing myself the guardian Angel of the Pais de Vaud. If I was, I am sure I should be inspired to do wonders. But, alas! I am a poor Mortal, & can only assist that Country by my best Wishes for its safety & prosperity.

How I wish you had let us remain & vegetate in our own little Island. I should have felt no other Interest in what is passing in your part of the World, than joy that you would be obliged to return to your native Country. You have likewise to answer for making me disatisfied with the famous Lakes & Rivers in the County of Sussex; & for shewing me a Country to which no other can compare, & which to see again I would give all my share of My lord's Sheep and Oxen, Ponds & Rivers. I do not know how to reconcile my wishes for the peace of Switzerland, with those for your return to England--as you seem resolved not to indulge us with your company, unless you are forced from your residence by a few thousand Marseillois. I cannot tell you how much I was disappointed when I was obliged to give up all expectation of seeing you this year. I wrote to Angletine a fortnight ago. I am very sorry indeed to hear her father is in a bad state of health. I hope you will be able to give a good Account of him, when you write next. Pray remember me to them very particularly, though I wish you had never made me acquainted with people I may probably never see again & yet cannot forget.

Papa is gone down the River Ouse, & ordered me to give you an account of the Emigrants; he would not think I had obeyed him very exactly, if he was to see my Letter--he would probably call it Stuff and Nonsense. I hope _you_ will not, tho' I always feel myself so unworthy to write to you, that I generally suspect my poor Letters meet with a degree of criticism I am sure they cannot bear.

[Sidenote: DISTRESS OF FRENCH REFUGEES.]

Now for Papa's Emigrants. The Duc de Liancourt,[254] who will have (when he can get it) the most considerable estate in France by the death of the Duc de Rochefoucauld, has been waiting for some weeks to come here, till Arthur Young should find it convenient to set off, as he had offered the Duke a seat in his Post chaise; he is in such distressed circumstances that his present plan is to go & settle in America. Mad^e. de Biron, who came over with so much difficulty and danger, that she lost her senses from fright and alarm, is returned to France to avoid the confiscation of her Estates. The same reason existing for her remaining there when she left the Country, it seems an extraordinary resolution to take, her returning, when she will be in as great danger as before. Mad^e. d'Henin[255] is settled at Richmond, & Mad^{lle}. de Pully is arrived in England--we expect them here every day. Lally told us, when he was here, D. of Fitzjames[256] was living in Germany upon _quinze sous par jour_, & saving out of that pittance to send something to her sons in the Army. A great number of french Priests have landed on our Coast.[257] I suppose my lord informed you of the arrival of two here who had escaped from the Massacre at _les Carmes_--the detail of the death of the Archbishop of Arles is horrid, but too long for a Letter. The subscriptions in London are very great--one for the Clergy only, amounts to £12,000, & that for both Clergy and Laity to upwards of £4000. The latter has enabled some Swiss officers to reach their own Country, who intended to beg their way thro' Holland, & supports some french Ladies of fashion who had nothing but what they got by their needlework. Burke & Papa have had a vigorous correspondence on the subject--the former is very indignant that a case he had drawn up about Atheists calling themselves Philosophers in France was not received.

I do not dare _expect_, but I will _hope_ to hear from you. Will you be so good as to remember me to M. & M^e. Levade? Do you know where the Legards and Grimstones are? Mama has some doubts, as to how she shall receive you; if you are obliged to fly to England, I shall be too well pleased with the effect to think of the cause.

Mama desires a great many pretty things to you. She is quite well & in good spirits; how unlucky we could not say the same last year. Louisa is still at Bath. I am in hopes of paying her a visit there next month. She _raves_ about Switz. _almost_ as much as me.

[254] The Duc de Liancourt (1747-1827) took the title of Rochefoucault-Liancourt on succeeding to his cousin, the Duc de la Rochefoucault who was murdered at Gisors in September, 1792. He had been a distinguished member of the Feuillants, or constitutional reformers. He escaped to England and thence to the United States. On his return to France he occupied himself with philanthropic works and the management of his estates. Both he and his cousin were generous patrons of Arthur Young during his travels in France (1787-89), and promoted that revival of agriculture at the close of the eighteenth century which corresponded with the similar movement in England.

[255] The Princesse d'Hénin was rescued from Paris by Madame de Staël (Forneron, _Hist. des Emigrés_, vol. i. p. 244). It was at her house that Malouet, La Fayette, and the Constitutionnels had planned an escape for Louis XVI. in May, 1792.

[256] The Duchess of Fitzjames was the daughter of the Comte de Thiars, and _dame de palais_ in the household of Marie Antoinette. Charles, her eldest son, died with the army of the princes. Edward, her second son, who succeeded to the title, distinguished himself by his oratorical powers in the Chamber of Peers at the Restoration, and in that of the Deputies under Louis Philippe.

[257] On September 17, 1792, seventy-six French priests, and among them the Bishop of Avranches, landed at Hastings.

600.

_To Lord Sheffield._

October 27.

*My usual temper very readily admitted the excuse, that it would be better to wait another week, till the final settlement of our affairs. The treaty is signed between France and Geneva; and the ratification of the Convention is looked upon as assured, if any thing can be assured in that wild Democracy.[258] On condition that the Swiss Garrison, with the approbation of Berne and Zurich, be recalled before the first of December, it is stipulated that the independence of Geneva shall be preserved inviolate; that M. de Montesquiou shall immediately send away his heavy artillery; and that no French troops shall approach within ten leagues of the city. As the Swiss have acted only as auxiliaries, they have no occasion for a direct treaty; but they cannot prudently disarm, till they are satisfied of the pacific intentions of France; and no such satisfaction can be given till they have acknowledged the new Republic, which they will probably do in a few days, with a deep groan of indignation and sorrow; it has been cemented with the blood of their countrymen! But when the Emperor, the King of Prussia, the first General, and the first army in Europe have failed, less powerful states may acquiesce, without dishonour, in the determination of fortune. Do you understand this most unexpected failure? I will allow an ample share to the badness of the roads and the weather, to famine and disease, to the skill of Dumourier, a heaven-born General, and to the enthusiastic ardour of the new Romans; but still, still there must be some secret shameful cause at the bottom of this strange retreat.[259]

[Sidenote: A TUTORSHIP FOR SEVERY.]

We are now delivered from the impending terrors of siege and invasion. The Geneva _Emigrés_, particularly the Neckers, are hastening to their homes; and I shall not be reduced to the hard necessity of seeking a winter azylum at Zurich or Constance: but I am not pleased with our future prospects. It is much to be feared that the present Government of Geneva will be soon modelled after the French fashion; the new Republic of Savoy is forming on the opposite bank of the lake; the Jacobin Missionaries are powerful and zealous; and the Malcontents of this country, who begin again to rear their heads, will be surrounded with temptations, and examples, and allies. I know not whether the pays de Vaud will long adhere to the dominion of Berne; or whether I shall be permitted to end my days in this little paradise, which I have so happily suited to my taste and circumstances.

Last Monday only I received your letter, which had strangely loitered on the road since its date of the 29th of September. There must surely be some disorder in the posts, since the Eliza departed indignant at never having heard from you.*

I still am of opinion that it is both unseemly and unusual for _us_ to propose any specific terms. You must hear the ideas of the parents or guardians. You must consider on the behalf of your client, how far a moderate interest may be enhanced by rank and character, how far a deficiency (less desirable) in those qualifications may be varnished with gold. If everything should unite, you may boldly accept; if you hesitate you must take the matter ad referendum, and they must expect our answer by the return of the post. You will say perhaps that the parties may be impatient, and that delay may be productive of danger. This I must acknowledge, nor is it only in this respect that I feel the disadvantage of his not being on the spot.--I much regret the M[arquis] of C[armarthen], his father the D[uke] of L[eeds] is a fair and honourable man. Your hint of General Bude (of whom I had never heard) shall not be neglected: when the Duchess of D. returns to England next year, I hope she will be able and willing to assist the young man, to whom she expressed much friendship, and whom she appointed her chevalier sans peur and sans reproche by the delivery of a feather and a cockade. He is now on service with his dragoons, but will probably be soon disbanded.

Without confessing that my fears and scruples were quite so _anile_ as you are always disposed to think them, I am now in a great measure satisfied. I wish you may find a secure mortgage at four per cent.; but though I do not perfectly like the Debentures (which you never explained before), I cannot think they run much risk till our next meeting in England.

The case of my Wine I think peculiarly hard; to lose my Madeira, and to be scolded for losing it. Please to remember that the Wine Merchant never sent me any letter of advice, as he ought to have done, of the time and manner of its departure; and that when I first expressed my astonishment to you (in my great letter of at least four months ago) you were too much engrossed with a more interesting subject to return any answer. What could I do? my part was entirely passive, to expect its arrival, which I still expect. Yet I have now directed proper enquiries to be made at Basle and Ostend; the London Merchant must trace it forwards, and the last person in whose hands it has been must be responsible for the wine or its value. Whatsoever may be right, I have no intention of seeking a legal remedy; but on a similar occasion, I hope we shall never repeat the liberal confidence of such premature payment.

*I am much indebted to Mr. Nichols for his Genealogical communications, which I am impatient to receive; but I do not understand why so civil a Gentleman could not favour me, in six months, with an answer by the post: since he entrusts me with these valuable papers, you have not, I presume, informed him of my negligence and awkwardness in regard to Manuscripts. Your reproach rather surprizes me, as I suppose I am much the same as I have been for these last twenty Years. Should you hold your resolution of writing only such things as may be published at Charing-cross, our future correspondence would not be very interesting. But I expect and require, at this important crisis, a full and confidential account of your views concerning England, Ireland, and France. You have a strong and clear eye; and your pen is, perhaps, the most useful quill that ever has been plucked from a goose. Your protection of the French refugees is highly applauded. Rosset and La Motte have escaped from Arbourg, perhaps with connivance to avoid disagreeable demands from the Republic. Adieu.*

Ever yours, E. G.

[258] The report of the French Diplomatic Committee upon the two treaties of October 22 and November 2 was delivered by Brissot on November 21. It neither ratified nor rejected the treaties, reserving the question whether a free people could bind itself by treaties. At the same time the Convention ordered the French troops to respect the neutrality of Geneva, if the Swiss troops evacuated the city by December 1, 1792.

[259] The Duke of Brunswick was charged with being bribed to retire. No ground for the accusation has ever been alleged, except that, on the duke's return, he paid off heavy debts. The charge was made by Talleyrand in 1802. It is repeated by both Lacretelle and Thiers in their histories. It is omitted by Michaud in his article on Brunswick, which appeared in the _Biographie Universelle_ in 1812; but it is given in the articles which the same writer contributed on Dumouriez and Drouet to the supplementary volume (1837). It is also made by the Comte d'Allonville in his _Mémoires Secrets_ (vol. iii. pp. 94-97).

601.

_Lord Sheffield to Edward Gibbon._

Bath, 5th Nov., 1792.

Among the whimsical events of the last three years, none is more extraordinary than an Hebdominal letter from you. Your character however is so bad on that head, that there is not much dependance on your perseverance, but it produces a desire and resolution in the Family to address you weekly as long as you give such encouragement.

[Sidenote: THREE LATE FRENCH MINISTERS.]

Here I am, not on account of my eyes (which continue very weak), but to attend the Mayor's Feast at Bristol this day. I arrived last night. I was but one night in London. I found the Hotel in Downing Street occupied by the Princess d'Henin, the Beautiful Comtesse Charles de Noailles,[260] the Pauline, the Prince de Poix,[261] Gouvernet,[262] Lally, &c. I proceeded in the morning to Bulstrode[263] to hold a conversation with the Duke, and from thence I moved to this place with the Maria, whom I shall leave with Aunt while I go through the necessary duties at Bristol, which will at least engage me till the 13th instant. Talking of Downing Street, I should mention the extraordinary _occurrence_ in the dining-room there a few days since, of the three late French Ministers, St. Croix,[264] Monciel,[265] Bertrand[266] and also Malouet,[267] Gilliers,[268] Gouvernet, Prince de Poix and Lally. They were in Committee on their deplorable affairs. For the sake of my eyes I shall give this to be finished by Maria. No man has a guess at the intentions of Gouvernment. There is not the slightest expectation that they will take the least part in the affairs of France. All those members of Opposition for whom you or others have respect are seriously well disposed to a junction of parties, and I am convinced, indeed I know, they would be very reasonable in their expectations. Pitt has said he could act in great confidence with Fox, notwithstanding sparrings which have taken place, and Charles Fox has said that a junction is so right a thing, that he cannot see otherwise than that it must take place. Yet there are great difficulties, and I am not sanguine. I shall have no opinion of Pitt's judgment or disposition if he does not remove them.

Poor Mrs. Gibbon was given over last week, a bilious attack. She has miraculously recovered, but the man who has bodily care of her, says she is so worn, she cannot pass the winter.

I should have added above that I fear Fox will be still _detestable_ on the subject of French affairs. Pitt is suspected of Democracy, and it is said by some lately that he will himself move a Plan of Reform next Sessions.

[Sidenote: JACOBIN SOCIETIES IN ENGLAND.]

My Lord is gone to nurse his poor dear eyes, and leaves me to inform you of some of those extraordinary things to which I hardly expect you to give credit, but I shall name my authorities. Mr. Batt told us last Friday that the Attorney General had had information of the following event at Manchester, and that the said Attorney General had mentioned it to the _said_ Mr. Batt. A person (we did not hear his name) at that place invited a number of people to dinner, among others the officers of the Scotch Greys, the day of the King's Accession, giving them notice there would be a _ceremony_. When the company was assembled there was an Ass brought into the room, dressed in a Blue Ribband, Crown and Sceptre, &c., which after many ridiculous formalities was killed, cut in pieces, and sent to different Societies in this Kingdom. I do not know if Lewes had a portion, but I know there is a Jacobin Society there. Burke called here yesterday evening to talk of a Plan for permanent relief of the poor priests, giving up all hopes of their returning to their native country. He proposed with the money in the hands of the Committee (£10,000) if Government would give any assistance towards settling them in the _Crimea_, Canada or Maryland,[269] as the subscription cannot afford them subsistence in this country for three months longer.

Mrs. Moss is arrived in England. Have you received Lally's vessel which she sent you from Berne? How do the _Acacias_, &c., flourish upon the terrace?

[260] The Comtesse Charles de Noailles, _née_ Nathalie de Laborde, the daughter of the banker of that name, married in 1790 Charles de Noailles, son of the Prince de Poix.

[261] Louis Philippe Antoine de Noailles, Prince de Poix, eldest son of the Maréchal and Maréchale de Mouchy, who were guillotined on July 22, 1794. He commanded the Noailles Company of the Royal Body-guard. He was arrested in August, 1792, but escaped on his way to the Abbaye. He married Anne de Beauvau, who died in 1834.

[262] The Comte de la Tour-du-Pin Gouvernet had been aide-de-camp to Bouillé at the repression of the mutiny at Nancy. He was entrusted with the task of opening the plan, formed for the rescue of the king and royal family in the early summer of 1792, to Marie Antoinette. Her distrust of La Fayette caused its failure. "Plutôt périr qu'être sauvé par La Fayette et les Constitutionnels!" was her well-known exclamation. Gouvernet subsequently went to America, and died at Lausanne in 1837.

[263] The seat of the Duke of Portland.

[264] Bigot de Sainte Croix, Minister for Foreign Affairs, was one of the agents in the schemes for the rescue of Louis XVI.

[265] Terrier de Monciel, a member of the Constitutional party, Minister of the Interior from June 18 to July 9, 1792, endeavoured to organize a military force for the protection of the king which should be disassociated from the foreign allies of the _émigrés_. It was the discovery of this and other schemes for the king's rescue, in which Bertrand, Malouet, Mallet du Pan, and Clermont-Tonnerre were the leaders, that led to the disbanding of the Constitutional Guard, and the insurrections of June 20 and August 10, 1792. Monciel died in 1831.

[266] The Marquis de Bertrand-Molleville (1744-1818) was _Ministre de la Marine_ in 1791. He took refuge in England in 1792, and there wrote his _Mémoires_ and his _Histoire de la Révolution de France_.

[267] Victor Malouet (1740-1814), distinguished by his explorations and his services in the French colonies (see his _Collection des Mémoires sur l'administration des colonies_, Paris, 1802, 5 vols.), was a bold and skilful supporter of Louis XVI. in the Constituent Assembly. He returned to France in 1801, and was employed by Napoleon in the administration of the navy. He was appointed Ministre de la Marine by Louis XVIII. in 1814.

[268] Probably the Baron de Gilliers, whose estates were near Romans in Dauphiné, and of whom Rivarol tells a story to illustrate the suspicion with which every aristocrat was regarded. Suspected of a royalist plot, the baron was charged with manufacturing cannon when he was only making drain-pipes; his house was occupied by hundreds of armed men, and his family narrowly escaped with their lives. He was gentleman-in-waiting to Madame Elizabeth.

[269] Burke's plan for the settlement of the refugees in Maryland is discussed by him in a letter to his son, dated November 2, 1792 (_Correspondence_, vol. iv. pp. 25, 26).

602.

_To Lord Sheffield._

November 10th, 1792.

*Received this day, November 9th, a most amiable dispatch from the too humble secretary[270] of the family of Espee,[271] dated October 24th, which I answer the same day. It will be acknowledged, that I have fulfilled my engagement with as much accuracy as our uncertain state and the fragility of human nature would allow.

I resume my narrative. At the time when we imagined that all was settled by an equal treaty between two such unequal powers, as the Geneva flea and the Leviathan France, we were thunderstruck with the intelligence that the Ministers of the Republic refused to ratify the conditions; and they were indignant, with some colour of reason, at the hard obligation of withdrawing their troops to the distance of ten leagues, and of consequently leaving the Pays de Gex naked, and exposed to the Swiss, who had assembled 15,000 men on the frontier, and with whom they had not made any agreement. The Messenger who was sent last Sunday from Geneva is not yet returned; and many persons are afraid of some design and danger in this delay. Montesquiou has acted with politeness, moderation, and apparent sincerity; but he may resign, he may be superseded, his place may be occupied by an _enragé_,[272] by Servan, or prince Charles of Hesse,[273] who would aspire to imitate the predatory fame of Custine in Germany.

In the mean while, the General holds a wolf by the ears; an officer who has seen his troops, about 18,000 men (with a tremendous train of artillery), represents them as a black, daring, desperate crew of buccaneers, rather shocking than contemptible; the officers (scarcely a Gentleman among them), without servants, or horses, or baggage, lying _higgledy piggledy_ on the ground with the common men, yet maintaining a rough kind of discipline over them. They already begin to accuse and even to suspect their General, and call aloud for blood and plunder: could they have an opportunity of squeezing some of the rich Citizens, Geneva would cut up as fat as most towns in Europe. During this suspension of hostilities they are permitted to visit the City without arms, sometimes three or four hundred at a time; and the Magistrates, as well as the Swiss Commander, are by no means pleased with this dangerous intercourse, which they dare not prohibit. Such are our fears; yet it should seem on the other side, that the French affect a kind of magnanimous justice towards their little neighbour, and that they are not ambitious of an unprofitable contest with the poor and hardy Swiss. The Swiss are not equal to a long and expensive War; and as most of our Militia have families and trades, the country already sighs for their return. Whatever can be yielded, without absolute danger or disgrace, will doubtless be granted; and the business will probably end in our owning the Sovereignty, and trusting to the good faith of the Republic of France: how that word would have sounded four years ago! The measure is humiliating; but after the retreat of the Duke of Brunswick, and the failure of the Austrians, the smaller powers may acquiesce without dishonour.

[Sidenote: ENGLAND THE LAST REFUGE OF LIBERTY.]

Every dog has his day; and these Gallic dogs have their day, at least, of most insolent prosperity. After forcing or tempting the Prussians to evacuate their country, they conquer Savoy, pillage Germany, threaten Spain: the Low Countries are ere now invaded; Rome and Italy tremble; they scour the Mediterranean, and talk of sending a squadron into the South Sea. The whole horizon is so black, that I begin to feel some anxiety for England, the last refuge of liberty and law; and the more so, as I perceive from Lord S.'s last epistle that his firm nerves are a little shaken; but of this more in my next, for I want to unburthen my conscience.

If England, with the experience of our happiness and French calamities, should now be seduced to eat the apple of false freedom, we should indeed deserve to be driven from the paradise which we enjoy. I turn aside from the horrid and improbable, (yet not impossible) supposition, that, in three or four years' time, myself and my best friends may be reduced to the deplorable state of the French emigrants: they thought it as impossible three or four years ago. Never did a revolution affect, to such a degree, the private existence of such numbers of the first people of a great Country: your examples of misery I could easily match with similar examples in this country and the neighbourhood; and our sympathy is the deeper, as we do not possess, like you, the means of alleviating, in some degree, the misfortunes of the fugitives. But I must have, from the very excellent pen of the Maria, the tragedy of the Archbishop of Arles; and the longer the better. Madame de Biron has probably been tempted by some faint and (I fear) fallacious promises of clemency to the Women, and which have likewise engaged Madame d'Aguesseau and her two daughters[274] to revisit France. Madame de Bouillon[275] stands her ground, and her situation as a foreign princess is less exposed. As Lord S. has assumed the glorious character of protector of the distressed, his name is pronounced with gratitude and respect. The D. of Richmond is praised, on Madame de Biron's account. To the Princess d'Henin, and Lally, I wish to be remembered.

The Neckers cannot venture into Geneva, and Madame de Stael will probably lye in at Rolle. He is printing a defence of the King, &c., against their Republican Judges;[276] but the name of Necker is unpopular to all parties, and I much fear that the Guillotine will be more speedy than the press. It will, however, be an eloquent performance; and, if I find an opportunity, I am to send you one, to you, Lord S., by his particular desire: he wishes likewise to convey some copies with speed to our principal people, Pitt, Fox, Lord Stormont, &c. But such is the rapid succession of events, that it will appear, like the 'Pouvoir Executif,' his best Work, after the whole scene has been totally changed.*

Shall you never be able to place my £3000 on good Security? Was there ever before a two years' fruitless chace after a Mortgage? We are in hot pursuit from all quarters of my Madeira, and unless already drunk by the Hussars it must emerge.

Ever yours, E. G.

P.S.--*The Revolution of France, and my triple dispatch by the same post to Sheffield-place, are, in my opinion, the two most singular events in the eighteenth Century. I found the task so easy and pleasant, that I had some thoughts of adding a letter to the gentle Louisa.* And a note to the most respectable Tuft. I should not have forgot Miss Firth, but I hear she is leaving you. Is she going to be married? *I am this moment informed, that our troops on the frontier are beginning to move, on their return home; yet we hear nothing of the treaty's being concluded.*

[270] Miss Holroyd.

[271] Sheffield Place.

[272] Joseph Servan (1741-1808), author of the _Soldat Citoyen_ (1780), Minister of War in the Girondin administration (March to June, 1792). Dismissed by Louis XVI., he was restored to his office after August 10, 1792. He resigned his post in October, 1792, and afterwards commanded the troops which opposed the march of the Spaniards upon Bayonne in April, 1793.

[273] Prince Charles of Hesse-Rheinfels-Rothenburg (1752-1821) entered the French service as a young man. He was made a lieutenant-general in 1792, and took up the command at Besançon, where he was received with enthusiasm as the _citoyen-général-philosophe_. He accompanied his words with gestures which were almost convulsive in their violence, and closed his sentences by grinding his teeth, "un tigre doué de la parole." As a journalist (1795-99) he came into collision with the Government, and was imprisoned for several years in the island of Rhé. He died at Frankfort in 1821.

[274] Henriette d'Aguessau, who married the Duc d'Ayen, was, like Madame de Biron, guillotined.

[275] Marie, Princess of Hesse-Rheinfelz, married the Duc de Bouillon, the head, and last direct representative, of the family of La Tour d'Auvergne. She was by her marriage connected with the Princesse de Poix, and her cousin, the Princesse d'Hénin. The three ladies were known as _les trois princesses combinées_. Madame de Bouillon and her husband both died in exile.

[276] Necker's _Réflexions offertes à la nation française_ appeared in November, 1792.

603.

_To Lady Sheffield._

Lausanne, November 10, 1792.

[Sidenote: NEITHER MONSTER NOR STATUE.]

*I could never forgive myself, were I capable of writing by the same post, a political Epistle to the father, and a friendly letter to the daughter, without sending any token of remembrance to the respectable Matron, my dearest My lady, whom I have now loved as a sister for something better or worse than twenty years. No, indeed, the historian may be careless, he may be indolent, he may always intend and never execute, but he is neither a monster nor a statue; he has a memory, a conscience, a heart, and that heart is sincerely devoted to Lady S. He must even acknowledge the fallacy of a sophism which he has sometimes used, and she has always and most truly denied; that, where the persons of a family are strictly united, the writing to one is in fact writing to all; and that consequently all his numerous letters to the husband, may be considered as equally addressed to the wife. He feels, on the contrary, that separate minds have their distinct ideas and sentiments, and that each character, either in speaking or writing, has its peculiar tone of conversation. He agrees with the maxim of Rousseau, that three friends who wish to disclose a common secret, will impart it only _deux à deux_; and he is satisfied that, on the present memorable occasion, each of the persons of the Sheffield family will claim a peculiar share in this triple missive, which will communicate, however, a triple satisfaction. The experience of what may be effected by vigorous resolution, encourages the historian to hope that he shall cast the skin of the old serpent, and hereafter show himself as a new creature.*

And first let me congratulate yourself and your friends on the present happy state of your mental and corporeal faculties, of which I have gained the pleasing intelligence, not only from the hints in Lord S. and Maria's letters, but still more clearly from your own long and spirited Epistle to young Severy, which he received with gratitude and will answer with speed.

*I lament, on all our accounts, that the last year's expedition to Lausanne did not take place in a golden period;* the more familiar and cheerful intercourse with Madame de Severy would have opened your hearts to each other. I should have escaped many moments of painful though silent sympathy, and every object in Nature and society would have appeared to your eyes with a different aspect and colour. *But we must reflect, that human felicity is seldom without alloy; and if we cannot indulge the hope of your making a second visit to Lausanne, we must look forwards to my residence next summer at Sheffield-place, where I must find you in the full bloom of health, spirits, and beauty. I can perceive, by all public and private intelligence, that your house has been the open hospital Azylum of French fugitives; and it is a sufficient proof of the firmness of your nerves, that you have not been overwhelmed or agitated by such a concourse of strangers. Curiosity and compassion may, in some degree, have supported you. Every day has presented to your view some new scene of that strange tragical romance, which occupies all Europe so infinitely beyond any event that has happened in our time, and you have the satisfaction of not being a mere spectator of the distress of so many victims of false liberty. The benevolent fame of Lord S. is widely diffused.

From Angletine's last letter to Maria, you have already some idea of the melancholy state of her poor father. As long as Mr. de Severy allowed our hopes and fears to fluctuate with the changes of his disorder, I was unwilling to say anything on so painful a subject; and it is with the deepest concern that I now confess our absolute despair of his recovery. All his particular complaints are now lost in a general dissolution of the whole frame: every principle of life is exhausted, and as often as I am admitted to his bed-side, though he still looks and smiles with the patience of an Angel, I have the heartfelt grief of seeing him each day drawing nearer to the term of his existence. A few weeks, possibly a few days, will deprive me of a most excellent friend, and break for ever the most perfect system of domestic happiness, in which I had so large and intimate a share. Wilhelm (who has obtained leave of absence from his military duty) and his sister behave and feel like tender and dutiful children; but they have a long gay prospect of life, and new connexions, new families will make them forget, in due time, the common lot of mortality. But it is Madame de Severy whom I truly pity; I dread the effects of the first shock, and I dread still more the deep perpetual consuming affliction for a loss which can never be retrieved.

[Sidenote: GIBBON'S ALTERED SITUATION.]

You will not wonder that such reflections sadden my own mind, nor can I forget how much my situation is altered since I retired, nine years ago, to the banks of the Leman lake. The death of poor Deyverdun first deprived me of a domestic companion, who can never be supplied; and your visit has only served to remind me that man, however amused and occupied in his Closet, was not made to live alone. Severy will soon be no more; his widow for a long time, perhaps for ever, will be lost to herself and her friends, the son will travel, and I shall be left a stranger in the insipid circle of mere common acquaintance. The Revolution of France, which first embittered and divided the Society of Lausanne, has opposed a barrier to my Sussex visit, and may finally expell me from the paradise which I inhabit. Even that paradise, the expensive and delightful establishment of my house, library, and garden, almost becomes an incumbrance, by rendering it more difficult for me to relinquish my hold, or to form a new system of life in my native Country, for which my income, though improved and improving, would be probably insufficient. But every complaint should be silenced by the contemplation of the French; compared with whose cruel fate, all misery is relative happiness. I perfectly concurr in your partiality for Lally; though Nature might forget some meaner ingredients, of prudence, economy, &c., she never formed a purer heart, or a brighter imagination. If he be with you, I beg my kindest salutations to him. I am every day more closely united with the Neckers. Should France break, and this country be over-run, they would be reduced, in very humble circumstances, to seek a refuge; and where but in England? Adieu, dear Madam: there is, indeed, much pleasure in discharging one's heart to a real friend.*

Ever yours, E. G.

604.

_To the Hon. Maria Holroyd._

Lausanne, Nov. 10, 1792.

In dispatching the weekly political journal to Lord Sheffield, my conscience (for I have some remains of conscience) most powerfully urges me to salute, with some lines of friendship and gratitude, the amiable secretary, who might save herself the trouble of a modest apology. I have not yet forgotten our different behaviour after the much lamented _separation_ of October the 4th, 1791, your meritorious punctuality, and my unworthy silence. I have still before me that entertaining narrative, which would have interested me, not only in the progress of the _carissima famiglia_, but in the motions of a Tartar camp, or the march of a caravan of Arabs; the mixture of just observation and lively imagery, the strong sense of a man, expressed with the easy elegance of a female. I still recollect with pleasure the happy comparison of the Rhine, who had heard so much of liberty on both his banks, that he wandered with mischievous licentiousness over all the adjacent meadows. The inundation, alas! has now spread much wider; and it is sadly to be feared that the Elbe, the Po, and the Danube, may imitate the vile example of the Rhine: I shall be content, however, if our own Thames still preserves his fair character of

Strong without rage, without o'erflowing full.

These agreeable epistles of Maria produced only some dumb intentions, and some barren remorse; nor have I deigned, except by a brief missive from my chancellor, to express how much I loved the author, and how much I was pleased with the composition. That amiable author I have known and loved from the first dawning of her life and _coquetry_, to the present maturity of her talents; and as long as I remain on this planet, I shall pursue, with the same tender and even anxious concern, the future steps of her establishment and life. That establishment must be splendid; that life must be happy. She is endowed with every gift of nature and fortune; but the advantage which she will derive from them, depends almost entirely on herself. You must not, you shall not, think yourself unworthy to write to any man: there is none whom your correspondence would not amuse and satisfy.

I will not undertake a task, which my taste would adopt, and my indolence would too soon relinquish; but I am really curious, from the best motives, to have a particular account of your own studies and daily occupation. What books do you read? and how do you employ your time and your pen? Except some professed scholars, I have often observed that women in general read much more than men; but, for want of a plan, a method, a fixed object, their reading is of little benefit to themselves, or others. If you will inform me of the species of reading to which you have the most propensity, I shall be happy to contribute my share of advice or assistance.

I lament that you have not left me some monument of your pencil. Lady Elizabeth Foster has executed a very pretty drawing, taken from the door of the green-house where we dined last summer, and including the poor Acacia, (now recovered from the cruel shears of the gardener,) the end of the terrace, the front of the Pavilion, and a distant view of the country, lake, and mountains. I am almost reconciled to d'Apples' house, which is nearly finished. Instead of the monsters which Lord Hercules Sheffield extirpated, the terrace is already shaded with the new acacias and plantanes; and although the uncertainty of possession restrains me from building, I myself have planted a bosquet at the bottom of the garden, with such admirable skill that it affords shade without intercepting prospect.

[Sidenote: SOCIETY OF LADY E. FOSTER.]

The society of the aforesaid Eliza, of the Duchess of Devonshire, &c. has been very interesting; but they are now flown beyond the Alps, and pass the winter at Pisa. The Legards, who have long since left this place, should be at present in Italy; but I believe Mrs. Grimstone and her daughter returned to England. The Levades are highly flattered by your remembrance. Since you still retain some attachment to this delightful country, and it is indeed delightful, why should you despair of seeing it once more? The happy peer or commoner, whose name you may assume, is still concealed in the book of fate; but, whosoever he may be, he will cheerfully obey your commands, of leading you from ---- Castle to Lausanne, and from Lausanne to Rome and Naples. Before that event takes place, I may possibly see you in Sussex; and, whether as a visitor or a fugitive, I hope to be welcomed with a friendly embrace. The delay of this year was truly painful, but it was inevitable; and individuals must submit to those storms which have overturned the thrones of the earth.

The tragic story of the Archbishop of Arles I have now somewhat a better right to require at your hands. I wish to have it in all its horrid details; and as you are now so much mingled with the French exiles, I am of opinion, that were you to keep a journal of all the authentic facts which they relate, it would be an agreeable exercise at present, and a future source of entertainment and instruction.

I should be obliged to you, if you would make, or find, some excuse for my not answering a letter from your aunt, which was presented to me by Mr. Fowler. I shewed him some civilities, but he is now a poor invalid, confined to his room. By her channel and yours I should be glad to have some information of the health, spirits, and situation of Mrs. Gibbon of Bath, whose alarms (if she has any) you may dispel. She is in my debt. Adieu; most truly yours.

605.

_The Hon. Maria Holroyd to Edward Gibbon._

Sheffield Place, November, 1792.

Your three letters received yesterday caused the most sincere pleasure to each individual of this family so highly favoured by you--but to none more than myself. I flatter myself that I despise general compliments as they deserve, but praise (tho' I fear, beyond my deserts) from one whose opinion I so highly value, and whose esteem I so much wish to gain, is more pleasing than I can describe, & I really think, thus encouraged, & with your _example_ before me, to shew _bad habits may_ be conquered. I had not neglected to make the collection of facts which you recommend, and which the great variety of unfortunate persons whom we see, or with whom we correspond, enables me to make.

As to the other part of your letter about _my studies_, I can only say, the slightest hint on that subject will be always received with the greatest gratitude, and attended to with the utmost punctuality. French history I am most acquainted with--English, I am ashamed to say, I am much less versed in. I have read Hume, but not since I came to years of discretion, & what is read as a _task_ seldom is well attended to. I am now reading a _certain_ work, in 6 Vols. Quarto or 12 Duodecimo, which I was acquainted with before, only by reading it after supper, frequently with long interruptions caused by Company, &c., & which only raised my curiosity to give it more attention. It would be Impertinence or at best but a Drop in the Ocean to add my mite to the opinion of the generality of the World, & say how much the Subject interests or the Style delights me. When this work is read thro', I intend to proceed with English history. I again repeat, if you condescend to favour me with any directions on this subject, I shall follow them with the greatest pleasure; but if you should not, I am much flattered that you should desire to hear from me, & should have sent you the horrid account of the massacre aux Carmes before, if I had thought you would have been desirous of it. I have not seen the details in any newspaper, & one of the eight Priests, who dined here, & had escaped from the massacre, related the whole with such simplicity & feeling, as to leave no doubt of the truth of all he said.

[Sidenote: MURDER OF THE ARCHBISHOP OF ARLES.]

On the 2^d of Sep^{ber} they went into the garden, as usual, to walk at five o'clock in the evening. They expressed their surprize at several large pits, which had been digging for two or three days past. They said to each other, "The day is almost spent, & yet Manuel[277] told a person who interceded for us, last Thursday, that on the Sunday following not one should remain in captivity--we are still Prisoners." Soon after, they heard shouts, and some musquet shots were fired into the Garden. A number of National Guards, some Commissaires _de Sections_, & several Marseillois, rushed in. The unhappy victims who were dispersed about the Garden, assembled under the Walls of the Church, not daring to enter, least it should be polluted with blood. One, who was behind the rest, was shot dead. _Point de coups de fusil_ said some of the Chiefs of the assassins, thinking this death too merciful. A number of them called for the Archbishop of Arles,[278] & insisted that he should be given up to them, the Priests all crowded round him, & determined to defend him with their Lives. The Archbishop then said, "Let me pass; if we must all perish, it is of little consequence whether I die first or not, & if my death will appease them, is it not my duty to preserve your Lives at the expense of my own?" He asked the eldest of the Priests to give him Absolution--he knelt to receive it, & when he rose, advanced, with his arms crossed on his breast, towards the People. His appearance was so dignified & noble, that for ten minutes not one of these Wretches had courage to raise their hand against him. They reproached each other with cowardice & advanced--one look from the venerable Prelate struck them with involuntary awe, & they retired. At last, one of the assassins struck off his Cap with a Pike--their fury returned when they saw respect once violated, & another struck him on the head with a Sabre, & laid open his scalp. The Archbishop only said, "O mon Dieu!" & put up his right hand to his eyes. A second blow cut off this hand--he repeated his exclamation & raised the other. A third stroke left him sitting, & a fourth extended him lifeless, when all the Miscreants pressed forwards, to bury their Poniards in his bosom.

The Priests all agreed that the Archbishop of Arles was one of the most amiable men in France--his only _crime_ was having parted with most of his private fortune to support the necessitous Clergy of his Diocese, since the beginning of the Revolution. When he was murdered, the National Guards made all the Priests go into the Church, telling them they should appear, one after another, before the _Commissaires du Section_, who would try them and determine their fate. They had hardly entered, before the People impatiently called for them to shew themselves--upon which, all kneeling before the Altar, they received Absolution from the B^p of Beauvais--& then, two by two, passed before one of the commissaires, who did not question, but only counted his victims. In this manner, perished 120 Priests, amongst whom were the Bishops of Beauvais and Xaintes, both of the Rochefoucauld family.[279] _Our friends_ escaped by getting over the Wall.

I am afraid I have tired your patience, & that you did not expect such a tedious history. Mad^{e}. d'Hénin & Pauline are at Boulogne; they have gained nothing by going there, & are afraid they may find it difficult returning to England. The seal of the Nation is put on all Mad^{e}. d'Hénin's effects; she is not able to keep a single servant--she says, Pauline & she must wait on each other. Papa, who is more alarmed than I ever saw him, will write to you soon, _politically_. Mama will likewise answer your letter, & in the mean time desires many thanks for it. Will you say everything affectionate to Angletine for her letter? I feel sincerely for the situation of that family, & if you can send any good news of M. de Severy's amendment, I trust you will write. It was particularly kind of Angletine to write when her mind must be so ill at ease--but it is not flung away upon me. I am anything but _une Ingrate_. Mrs. Moss is here, & speaks with delight of your house, your terrace, & of the great civility you showed her. Judge if Lausanne is ever the subject of our conversation.

We left Louisa & Aunt at Bath very well, they both desire to be remembered to you when we wrote. Mrs. Gibbon looks as well as ever, but is really very unwell.

[277] Louis Pierre Manuel (1751-1793) was one of the leaders in the insurrections of June 20 and August 10, 1792. He was at this time _procureur_ of the Commune of Paris. At the king's trial he defended Louis XVI., and, accused of being a counter-revolutionist, was guillotined in November, 1793.

[278] Jean Marie François Dulau.

[279] They were brothers, and belonged to the family of Rochefoucauld-Bayers.

606.

_Lord Sheffield to Edward Gibbon._

Bristol, 14th Nov., 1792.

[Sidenote: A FOOLISH GAME IN IRELAND.]

I snatch an interval likely to be very short, to acknowledge you have some merit in a 14th day epistle, although you fasted as to your 7th day. I was glad to hear of the agreement on the subject of Geneva. As the French troops were immediately to return 10 leagues, and before the evacuation, I think it honourable, but my political barometer never was so low. During the last 35 years on no occasion it had materially sunk. It never experienced any great depression till the wonderful and in some degree inexplicable phenomena of the later part of last September. I had some hope that Europe would see the necessity of making a common cause against the Disturbers of the World. But I have not a ray of hope. The failure of the combined army has of course encouraged and increased a bad spirit in this country, but it has not as yet shewn itself except in some towns. And in such, mischief always begins. The respectable and considerable men of both parties among my constituents are right. Government had risked a foolish game in Ireland, playing Roman Catholics against Protestants, and openly supporting the former, granting too much, and giving further hopes, which has produced sedition and brought them to the brink of rebellion, but within a few weeks it has been determined to go no farther and to support the Protestant Ascendency--better late than never, but some knocks probably will ensue.

I believe I forgot to assure you in my last that Newspaper account of our friend Lord L.[280] and his acceptance of Seals is premature, and that there is no prospect of such an event unless with the concurrence and accession of the Mass of the party. I rather suspect some of our friends have more of the shew than the reality, of wishing or expecting, or promoting healthy conjunction of parties--but they are few.

I scolded you about the Madeira because I thought it lost thro' your neglect of writing, but I have the pleasure of finding that it was only delayed, and is now on its road. So writes Muligan's correspondent in Holland. I shall send this to Maria to finish. My eyes are very weak.

I do not know what to add to Papa's _croaking_ Epistle, except to ask if you will give us an Asylum at Lausanne when this country is in the state of France. If you should answer in the affirmative, I am afraid you would make me an enemy to my country and wish it very ill. _I_ think Papa very _ungrateful_ for your very great kindness and attention in writing so frequently--at a time so very interesting, but I believe he is afraid of praising you too much, least you should think you have done enough. If you were a witness of the pleasure your letters give all the family, I think you would not talk of sinking into a _long and irreproachable silence_. Mama assures me you will not write to me. Pray make her say the thing that is not, for once in her life. We leave Bath next Sunday, after having enjoyed the gaieties of the place a fortnight. Louisa is to remain here all the Winter. She desires to be particularly remembered to you. Switzerland is our daily subject of conversation and regret. Witness our hands this 15th day of November.

MARIA JOSEPHA HOLROYD, LOUISA DOROTHEA HOLROYD.

[280] Lord Loughborough accepted the Great Seal as Lord Chancellor in January, 1793.

607.

_To Lord Sheffield._

Lausanne, Nov. 25th, 1792.

*After the triple labour of my last dispatch, your experience of the creature might tempt you to suspect that it would again relapse into a long slumber. But, partly from the spirit of contradiction, (though I am not a lady) and partly from the ease and pleasure which I now find in the task, you see me again alive, awake, and almost faithful to my hebdomadal promise. The last week has not, however, afforded any events deserving the notice of an historian. Our affairs are still floating on the waves of the convention, and the ratification of a corrected treaty,[281] which had been fixed for the 20th, is not yet arrived; but the report of the diplomatic committee has been favourable, and it is generally understood that the leaders of the French Republic do not wish to quarrel with the Swiss. We are gradually withdrawing and disbanding our militia. Geneva will be left to sink or swim, according to the humour of the people; and our last hope appears to be, that by submission and good behaviour we shall avert for some time the impending storm.

[Sidenote: FLIGHT OF A FRENCH GENERAL.]

A few days ago, an odd incident happened in the French army; the desertion of the general. As the Neckers were sitting, about eight o'clock in the evening, in their drawing-room at Rolle, the door flew open, and they were astounded by their servant's announcing _Monsieur le General de Montesquiou_! On the receipt of some secret intelligence of a _decrét d'accusation_, and an order to arrest him, he had only time to get on horseback, to gallop through Geneva, to take boat for Coppet, and to escape from his pursuers, who were ordered to seize him alive or dead. He left the Neckers after supper, passed through Lausanne in the night, and proceeded to Berne and Basle, whence he intended to wind his way through Germany, amidst enemies of every description, and to seek a refuge in England, America, or the moon. He told Necker, that the sole remnant of his fortune consisted in a wretched sum of twenty thousand livres; but the public report, or suspicion, bespeaks him in much better circumstances. Besides the reproach of acting with too much tameness and delay, he is accused of making very foul and exorbitant contracts:[282] and it is certain that new Sparta is infected with this vice beyond the example of the most corrupt monarchy. Kellerman[283] is arrived to take the command; and it is apprehended that on the first of December, after the departure of the Swiss, the French may _request_ the permission of using Geneva, a friendly city, for their winter quarters. In that case, the democratical revolution, which we all foresee, will be very speedily effected.[284]

I would ask you, whether you apprehend there was any treason in the Duke of Brunswick's retreat, and whether you have totally withdrawn your confidence and esteem from that once-famed general? Will it be possible for England to preserve her neutrality with any honour or safety? We are bound, as I understand, by treaty, to guarantee the dominions of the King of Sardinia and the Austrian provinces of the Netherlands. These countries are now invaded and over-run by the French. Can we refuse to fulfil our engagements, without exposing ourselves to all Europe as a perfidious or pusillanimous nation? Yet, on the other hand, can we assist those allies, without plunging headlong into an abyss, whose bottom no man can discover? But my chief anxiety is for our domestic tranquillity; for I must find a retreat in England, should I be driven from Lausanne. The idea of firm and honourable union of parties pleases me much; but you must frankly unfold what are the great difficulties that may impede so salutary a measure: you write to a man discreet in speech, and now careful of papers. Yet what can such a coalition avail if Fox be detestable and Pitt democratical? Where is the champion of the constitution? Alas, Lord Guildford! I am much pleased with the Manchester ass. The asses or wolves who sacrificed him have cast off the mask too soon; and such a nonsensical act must open the eyes of many simple patriots, who might have been led astray by the specious name of reform. It should be made as notorious as possible. Next winter may be the crisis of our fate, and if you begin to improve the constitution, you may be driven step by step from the disfranchisement of Old Sarum to the king in Newgate, the lords voted useless, the bishops abolished, and a house of commons without articles (_sans culottes_).

[Sidenote: MADAME DE STAEL.]

Necker has ordered you a copy of his royal defence, which has met with, and deserved, universal success. The pathetic and argumentative parts are, in my opinion, equally good, and his mild eloquence may persuade without irritating. I have applied to this gentler tone some verses of Ovid (Metamorph. 1. iii. 302, &c.[285]) which you may read. Madame de Stael has produced a second son. She talks wildly enough of visiting England this winter.* Her friend the Vicomte de Narbonne is somewhere about Dorking. If you could shew him any civilities she would thank us both. She is a pleasant little woman.

No news from Basil or Ostend of my Madeira. Pray contrive to get me a mortgage; there is nothing like land or landed security. Poor Mrs. G. in such a state! I can only wish her an easy dismission. I wish the same to poor Severy, whose *condition is hopeless. Should he drag through the winter, Madame de S. would scarcely survive him. She kills herself with grief and fatigue. What a difference in Lausanne! I hope triple answers are on the road. I must write soon; the _times_ will not allow me to read or think. Ever yours.*

No. 6 (I believe). Send me a list of these letters, with their respective dates.

[281] _I.e._ the treaty of November 2.

[282] The report of the Diplomatic Committee (November 21) on the treaties which Montesquieu had signed with Geneva, speaks of him as a man who "had put his name to many fraudulent and usurious proceedings, and who appeared to regard the Revolution as a speculation and a new kind of stock-jobbing."

[283] François Christophe de Kellerman (1735-1820) was the hero of the battle of Valmy. In 1804 he was created Duc de Valmy by Napoleon.

[284] Gibbon's surmise proved correct. On December 3, and again on December 27, the _Représentants_ rose in arms, threatened to call in the aid of the French army if they were opposed, and replaced the Petit Conseil and the Conseil des Deux-Cents by two committees, organized on a popular basis, who exercised all the powers which were previously in the hands of the aristocracy.

[285]

Quà tamen usque potest, vires sibi demere tentat. Nec, quo centimanum dejecerat igne Typhœa, Nunc armatur eo: nimiùm feritatis in illo. Est aliud levius fulmen; cui dextra Cyclopum Sævitiæ, flammæque minus, minus addidit iræ: Tela secunda vocant Superi.

608.

_To his Stepmother._

Lausanne, Nov. 25, 1792.

MY DEAREST MADAM,

My friend Lord Sheffield has just informed of your late illness and happy recovery, and though I will not oppress you by a long letter, I cannot refrain from writing six lines to express my concern for the one and my joy for the other. It is my intention (if any road be open) to reach England early next summer, when I shall hasten to Bath, and hope to find you perfectly revived in health and spirits. We have had some slight alarms in this country, but they are now past, and amidst the general hurricane we hope to sleep without any troublesome dreams. Adieu, my Dear Madam; if your hand be too feeble to write yourself, could you not employ that of a friend to send me a short and sincere account?

I am Ever yours, E. GIBBON.

609.

_Lord Sheffield to Edward Gibbon._

Downing Street, 14 Dec., 1792.

Being harrassed in an extraordinary degree, I with ease persuaded myself that it should be better to delay my letter till this day, that I might say what passed in opening the Parliament yesterday.[286] Your extraordinary effort to write so much would have immediately forced me to answer if I had not known that Maria had despatched a packet, and that My Lady threatened another. I must acknowledge that Maria pressed me every post to take up the political part of the correspondence. But you will be satisfied with my occupation lately.

[Sidenote: THE CONSTITUTION IS THE FRENZY.]

Government had information (I know it to be very serious, and not from them). The sudden withdrawing of the Troops from the coast to the City, the extraordinary assembling of Parliament, the calling out of a part of the Militia, of course caused great alarm, but the effect was good. The middle ranks in town proposed Associations.[287] I believe we began in Sussex. I instantly took to it, gave a right direction, limited the business to support of Constitution as now established, and of exerting the Civil power which should be found necessary at this extraordinary crisis instead of patchwork and partial association by Towns. I have promoted one in each of the twelve Divisions of the County. My Division meets first. The Plan ran like wild-fire. The Constitution is the phrenzy more than Liberty, property and no excise, or coalition ever was. All the parishes in London are associating.

I had written the first page when the Princess d'Henin, who left Boulogne yesterday, entered my room, and the now immediate departure of post only allows me to say that Charles Fox on moving the amendment of the Address[288] uttered the most mischievous doctrines, principles, &c., that could at this time be invented, declaring himself, however, a friend to the Constitution, yet admitting the necessity of some changes. We (Country Gentlemen) opposed him, 290 to 50.[289] Lord Lansdown's men included in the latter. Most of the others were only with him because they thought it better not to throw him out of all chance of control. Just as I came into this house I met Lord Bute, who told me the Irish Catholicks were in arms. Whether we shall have war with France is far from settled.

I shall write by next post.

[286] On December 1 an Order in Council was passed, calling out part of the militia. Another portion was called out on the western and southern coasts by a second Order of December 5. Parliament met on December 13 to ratify the step taken by the Government, within the fourteen days required by statute.

[287] An association was formed, in November, 1792, at the St. Alban's Tavern, of members of Parliament and other persons of influence, including Lord Sheffield. A declaration was issued, stating that, in the opinion of those who signed it, it was in the present moment incumbent upon us "to give to the executive government a vigorous and effectual support, in counteracting the numerous efforts of sedition, in detecting and bringing to legal punishment the persons concerned therein, and in suppressing in their beginnings all tumults or riots, on whatever pretence they may be excited." Another association at the Crown and Anchor, presided over by Mr. Reeves, a barrister, and containing in the list of signatures the name of J. T. Batt, Lord Sheffield's friend, issued a similar declaration. Other associations were formed with the same object by the merchants and bankers of London, by the merchants, etc., at Lloyd's, by the general body of Protestant Dissenters in London and Westminster, by many of the Livery Companies, and by the Corporation of the City of London. The declaration to be signed in the county of Sussex is quoted in full at the beginning of the _Gentleman's Magazine_ for July to December, 1792. The following note is added: "Association, on the best principle, is taking place throughout England, and nowhere in a better form than in Sussex, under the auspices of Lord Sheffield."

[288] Fox, on December 13, declared the calling out of the militia to be a "ministerial manœuvre," and moved as an amendment to the address, "That his Majesty's faithful Commons, assembled in a manner new and alarming to the country, think it their first duty, and will make it their first business, to inform themselves of the causes of this measure, being equally zealous to enforce a due obedience to the laws on the one hand, and a faithful execution of them on the other."

[289] Lord Malmesbury thus analyzes the minority: "21 were reformers, 4 Lord Lansdowne's members, and the rest people personally attached to Fox, and who, from this feeling, and _against their sentiments_, voted with him. Such were Crewe, Lord Edward Bentinck, Lord George Cavendish, Lord Milton, Lionel Damer, and others" (_Diaries and Correspondence_, vol. ii. p. 476).

610.

_Lord Sheffield to Edward Gibbon._

Sheffield Place, 20th Dec., '92.

[Sidenote: JACOBINISM IN ENGLAND.]

I wrote in much haste to you last Friday, and I know not at this time what I wrote. I suppose I mentioned to you that Fox had, contrary to the opinion of all the considerable and respectable men of the Party, uttered everything that his worst enemy could wish, and avowed everything which he seemed to keep back last Sessions. It is impossible to imagine anything more injudicious or more mischievous at this time. Every man in the street asked, "Is he mad?" On the report of the address he maintained still more extravagant language than the day before. The next day, Saturday, he moved an Address to the King to acknowledge and send an Embassy to the Republic, or to that effect.[290] I had been considerably _elevated_ by his speeches of the preceding day, and just before I came down to the House, I heard that Brissot had announced in his newspaper of the 10th, as a measure of Opposition, the acknowledgment of the Republic and an Embassy. I did not suppose that Fox had any communication with him, but it seemed that somebody who was in his councils had connection with Brissot. Thus figged, the moment Fox sat down, I burst, and expressed myself pretty vigorously, and I was not sorry for the opportunity, as I knew the country gentlemen were properly disposed, and I was glad to shew a _good example_. Some followed strongly against Fox's conduct. The speeches are wretchedly given in the common newspapers, but there is a good report of what I said in the Diary and Morning Chronicle, and if there should be room, Maria shall copy it at the end of this letter, as it is not long.

Your last letter of the 26th Nov. is not the 6th, but the 5th Bulletin of affairs in your neighbourhood. While you continue to write you shall have frequent accounts from hence.

I had not an opportunity of learning distinctly whether Pitt has at last positively declined the admission of Fox into Administration. I have heard it said that he had, and that he had not, both seemingly from good authority, but in truth I forgot to enquire from the only quarter that could inform. The Duke of Portland is greatly distressed by Fox's conduct--if he were to be desired, he might become more desperate.--Lord Loughborough is more vigorous in his opinion of the matter. There seems at present no probability of his accepting the Great Seal. It would be a situation of uncertainty, his acceptance would be reprobated, and he would involve himself in much more trouble and difficulty than at present; yet I do not see how Government can go on without a considerable addition of force. It seems to me, however, agreed among the better part of us in Opposition not to distress or obstruct Government by opposition at this time. The business is too serious. Jacobinism had lately slid rapidly through many parts of the country. Emissaries of all sorts and in great numbers have been very busy, and at a great expence.

I believe that I mentioned in a late letter that the Chief of the Propaganda was here.--Rotombeau,[291] the most execrable of wretches, is here, and bragged that with his own hand he had murdered the Lamballe and 38 persons in one day. Many Frenchmen landed upon different parts of our coast with arms. Some imported them regularly and paid duty for them. Several men landed even near Ipswich with Fire-locks, Side-arms, and a dagger. The officer commanding took them from them, and the Mayor ordered them to be stored. The numbers in London were very great--a very considerable number of persons there, and especially in the Borough, were in concert with them. However wild it may appear, the Plan was to surprize the Tower and to deliver the hundred thousand muskets in the Armoury to the people, who they supposed would follow them. The number who have associated in the several clubs is said to consist of many thousands. Government had notice that an attack would be made on Sat. the 1st Decr. All the night of Friday Artillery and Artillery-men were marching to the Tower from Woolwich, and before day-break it was well-guarded. All this I know and not from friends of Government. The Tower has since been much strengthened; the gates fortified, the Ditch cleansed, and a considerable body of men is now there. All the Cavalry and Regulars within a hundred miles of London, were brought to its close neighbourhood.

[Sidenote: FOX'S MISCHIEVOUS SPEECHES.]

The country was of course alarmed, the shopkeepers at Lewes proposed Association in favour of the Constitution, the same disposition seems to have arisen at the same time in different parts of England. Finding it likely to run, I have been very active in giving it a direction. It appeared to me that nothing could be more advantageous than arranging the minds of the people under a good Principle, while they were in a ferment, and when once committed by their signature, it was likely they would be strenuous for measures which I endeavoured to make their own, as much as possible. Every division of this county is forming Associations to support the Civil Power, and declaring in favour of a Government by King, Lords and Commons. The spirit is going through the whole kingdom. The Jacobins seem to be totally crushed and dismayed. Many French fled to the Ports to secure a passage. Whether C. Fox's speeches will revive them, I do not yet know, but they certainly will encourage many of the miscreants within the country. I do not know whether I mentioned to you the great facility with which several people, even in this county, talk of the foolish expence of maintaining a royal family. Association, giving an opportunity to such an immense proportion of the people to shew their attachment to the Constitution, has an excellent effect, and I have no doubt that the French Devils on the excellent appearance of things will give up their machinations. On the late explosion Rotombeau made an attempt to fly--he was told he would be safer in London. He is well _spied_--he sees four hundred persons in a day. I believe he is now gone.

I came here on Sunday to attend a great meeting of Associations (which I had promoted) on Monday. I intended to return, but on Tuesday I wrote to the D. of Portland & to Lord Loughborough, and told them I was so disgusted with Fox's conduct that I thought they would agree with me, that I had better remain at Sheffield Place till Parliament meets for business after Christmas. That I was sure a very small number of members indeed would follow him in his present career. That, as a well-wisher to the tranquility and safety of the country, I need not be apprehensive of any mischief, except what may arise from the language he holds, which cannot be prevented. That I do not like to seem separate from men with whom I have zealously acted ten out of the thirteen years of my political life.

(_Continued by the Hon. Maria Holroyd._)

My Lord's Speech, taken from the Diary--he rose immediately after Mr. Fox's motion for an Embassy to France. "It is impossible to be silent. Are we then in that deplorable situation? Are we the vilest and most contemptible of nations? Are we to be the first to acknowledge, and cringe to these cut-throats and robbers, who have not the recommendation of being able to controul their own Banditti? Are we to league with them, to act in concert with them? How soon they may be invited here, he should not then attempt to guess--or to say how soon our gaols may be filled with the most respectable persons of the Nation, for the purpose of murdering them in cold blood without a trial--or how soon the most amiable of our women and of the highest ranks may lie on straw crowded in the most loathsome gaols, as in France, with the lowest dregs of the people, faultless however, except that their fathers, husbands, or sons may have ventured to maintain the constitution; he should leave to others more able than he was to detail the mischiefs of the monstrous proposition that had been made. He was too much agitated to attempt it. He was almost ashamed of the enthusiasm he had hitherto felt in favour of the Right Honourable Mover. It is true he had made much enquiry, but he hoped other country gentlemen would communicate what they knew of the state of the country. In respect to war, he believed every man wished to avert it. That the surest means of avoiding it would be by vigorous preparation for it, and if it could not be avoided, that it would be better policy to meet it, than wait for it. That the Disturbers of the World when they had over-run other nations, envying and dreading our prosperity, would not fail with double force to visit us. His Lordship concluded with some observations on the late measures, and told the Ministers, that although he commended their promptness and vigour, yet he could not approve their unjustifiable interpretation of the word--Insurrection. They would have done much better if they had acknowledged that, in consequence of some uncommon danger which impended, they had for the public good laid themselves under the necessity of applying to the Legislature for indemnity, but that he had not objected to the Address or supported the Amendment, because he would not seem to countenance the many mischievous principles and suggestions which had been heard in that House the last two days from the Mover of the Amendment."

[290] On Saturday, December 15, Fox moved that an address be presented to his Majesty, "that a minister may be sent to Paris to treat with those persons who exercise provisionally the functions of executive government in France." The motion was negatived without a division.

[291] "Some of the very worst of the French murderers on the 10th of August and beginning of September have been here, particularly one _Rotundo_, who was a principal performer in the massacres of the prisoners on the 2nd and 3rd of September. He was one of the executioners of Madame de Lamballe, of which I understand he boasted when in England, for I hear he is gone back" (_Life and Letters of Sir Gilbert Elliot_, vol. ii. p. 91). It is difficult to trace the foundation for the statement. One Petit Mamin was accused of having boasted that he had killed the princess; but he denied having made the boast, and proved, to the satisfaction of the jury, that he was not in Paris at the time (Mortimer-Ternaux, _Histoire de la Terreur_, 1792-94, vol. iii. pp. 632, 633). In Lescure's _Vie de la Princesse de Lamballe_ (pp. 426-428) the names of the murderers are given as Charlat and Grison. M. Feuillet de Conches (_Louis XVI., Marie Antoinette, et Madame Elisabeth_, vol. vi. p. 316) says that Gonchon was the name of the man who first struck down the princess.

611.

_To Lord Sheffield._

Lausanne, Dec. 14th, 1792.

*Our little storm has now completely subsided, and we are again spectators, though anxious spectators, of the general tempest that invades or threatens almost every country of Europe. Our troops are every day disbanding and returning home, and the greatest part of the French have evacuated the neighbourhood of Geneva. Monsieur Barthelemy,[292] whom you have seen secretary in London, is most courteously entertained, as ambassador, by the Helvetic body. He is now at Berne, where a Diet will speedily be convened; the language on both sides is now pacific, and even friendly, and some hopes are given of a provision for the officers of the Swiss guards who have survived the Massacres of Paris.

[292] François, Marquis de Barthélemy (1750-1830), concluded three treaties at Basle in 1795--with Prussia, the United Provinces, and Spain. He was a member of the Directory; but, suspected for his moderation, was sent, first to Cayenne, then to Sinnamari. Thence he escaped to England. He assisted in drawing up the charter at the restoration of Louis XVIII.

January 1st, 1793.

[Sidenote: REVOLUTION AT GENEVA.]

With the return of peace I have relapsed into my former indolence; but now awakening, after a fortnight's slumber, I have little or nothing to add, with regard to the internal state of this country, only the revolution of Geneva has already taken place, as I announced, but sooner than I expected. The Swiss troops had no sooner evacuated the place, than the _Egaliseurs_, as they are called, assembled in arms; and as no resistance was made, no blood was shed on the occasion. They seized the gates, disarmed the garrison, imprisoned the magistrates, imparted the rights of citizens to all the rabble of the town and country, and proclaimed a _national_ convention, which has not yet met. They are all for a pure and absolute Democracy; but wish to remain a small independent state, whilst others aspire to become a part of the republic of France; and as the latter, though less numerous, are more violent and absurd than their adversaries, it is highly probable that they will succeed. The Citizens of the best families and fortunes have retired from Geneva into the Pays de Vaud, but the French methods of recalling or proscribing emigrants will soon be adopted. You must have observed, that Savoy has now become _le Department du Mont Blanc_. I cannot satisfy myself whether the mass of the people is pleased or displeased with the change; but my noble scenery is clouded by the democratical aspect of twelve leagues of the opposite coast, which every morning obtrude themselves on my view. I here conclude the first part of the history of our Alpine troubles, and now consider myself as disengaged from all promises of periodical writing. Upon the whole, I kept it beyond our expectation; nor do I think that you have been sufficiently astonished by the wonderful effort of the triple dispatch.

You must now succeed to my task, and I shall expect, during the winter, a regular political journal of the events of your greater world. You are on the theatre, and may often be behind the scenes. You can always see, and may sometimes foresee. My own choice has indeed transported me into a foreign land; but I am truly attached, from interest and inclination, to my native country; and even as a Citizen of the World, I wish the stability and happiness of England, the sole great refuge of mankind against the opposite mischiefs of despotism and Democracy. I was indeed alarmed, and the more so, as I saw that you were not without apprehension; but I now glory in the triumph of reason and genuine patriotism, which seems to pervade the country; nor do I dislike some mixture of popular enthusiasm, which may be requisite to encounter our mad or wicked enemies with equal arms.

The behaviour of* Fox *rather afflicts than surprises me. You may remember what I told you last year at Lausanne, when you attempted his defence, that his inmost soul was deeply tinged with Democracy. Such wild opinions cannot easily be reconciled with his excellent understanding, but ''tis true 'tis pity, and pity 'tis, 'tis true.' He will surely ruin himself in the opinion of the wise and good men of his party. You have now crushed the daring subverters of the Constitution, but I now fear the moderate well-meaners--reformers. Do not, I beseech you, tamper with Parliamentary representation. The present House of Commons forms in _practice_ a body of Gentlemen who must always sympathize with the interest and opinions of the people, and the slightest innovation launches you without rudder or compass on a dark and dangerous ocean of Theoretical experiment. On this subject I am indeed serious.

Upon the whole, I like the beginning of '93 better than the end of '92. The illusion seems to break away throughout Europe. I think England and Switzerland are safe. Brabant adheres to the old constitution. The Germans are disgusted with the rapine and insolence of their deliverers. The Pope is resolved to head his armies, and the Lazzaroni of Naples have presented St. Januarius with a gold fuzee, to fire on the Brigands Français. So much for politics, which till now never had such possession of my mind. Next post I will write about myself and my own designs. Alas, your poor eyes! make the Maria write; I will speedily answer her. My Lady is still dumb. The German posts are now slow and irregular. You had better write by the way of France, under cover, directed to _Le Citoyen Rebours, à Pontarlier, France_. Adieu.*

Ever yours, G.

612.

_To Lord Sheffield._

Lausanne, Jan. 6th, 1793.

[Sidenote: OF HIMSELF AND HIS OWN PLANS.]

*There was formerly a time when our correspondence was a painful discussion of my private affairs; a vexatious repetition of losses, of disappointments, of sales, &c. These affairs are now decently arranged: but public cares have now succeeded to private anxiety, and our whole attention is lately turned from Lenborough and Beriton, to the political state of France and of Europe. From these politics, however, one letter shall be free, while I talk of myself and of my own plans; a subject most interesting to a friend, and only to a friend.

I know not whether I am sorry or glad that my expedition has been postponed to the present year. It is true, that I now wish myself in England, and almost repent that I did not grasp the opportunity when the obstacles were comparatively smaller than they are now likely to prove. Yet had I reached you last summer before the month of August, a considerable portion of my time would be now elapsed, and I should already begin to think of my departure. If the Gout should spare me this winter, (and as yet I have not felt any symptom,) and if the spring should make a soft and early appearance, it is my intention to be with you in Downing-street before the end of April, and thus to enjoy six weeks or two months of the most agreeable season of London and the neighbourhood, after the hurry of parliament is subsided, and before the great rural dispersion. As the banks of the Rhine and the Belgic provinces are completely overspread with anarchy and war, I have made up my mind to pass through the territories of the French Republic. From the best and most recent information, I am satisfied that there is little or no real danger in the journey; and I must arm myself with patience to support the vexatious insolence of democratical tyranny. I have even a sort of curiosity to spend some days at Paris, to assist at the debates of the Pandæmonium, to seek an introduction to the principal Devils, and to contemplate a new form of public and private life, which never existed before, and which I devoutly hope will not long continue to exist. Should the obstacles of health or weather confine me at Lausanne till the month of May, I shall scarcely be able to resist the temptation of passing some part at least of the summer in my own little paradise.

But all these schemes must ultimately depend on the great question of peace and War, which will indeed be speedily determined. Should France become impervious to an English traveller, what must I do? I shall not easily resolve to explore my way through the unknown language and abominable roads of the interior parts of Germany, to embark in Holland, or perhaps at Hamburgh, and to be finally intercepted by a French privateer. My stay in England appears not less doubtful than the means of transporting myself. Should I arrive in the spring, it is possible, and barely possible, that I should return here in the autumn; it is much more probable that I shall pass the winter, and there may be even a chance of my giving my own country a longer tryal. In my letter to My Lady I fairly exposed the decline of Lausanne; but such an establishment as mine must not be lightly abandoned; nor can I discover what adequate mode of life my private circumstances, easy as they now are, could afford me in England. London and Bath have doubtless their respective merits, and I could wish to reside within a day's journey of Sheffield-place. But a state of perfect happiness is not to be found here below; and in the possession of my library, house, and garden, with the relicks of our society, and a frequent intercourse with the Neckers, I may still be tolerably content. Among the disastrous changes of Lausanne, I must principally reckon the approaching dissolution of poor Severy and his family. He is still alive, but in such hopeless and painful decay, that we no longer conceal our wishes for his speedy release. I never loved nor esteemed him so much as in this last mortal disease, which he supports with a degree of courage, patience, and even chearfulness, beyond all belief. His wife, whose whole time and soul are devoted to him, is almost sinking under her long anxiety. The children are most amiably assiduous to both their parents, and at all events, his filial duties and worldly cares must detain the son some time at home.

[Sidenote: A LITERARY SECRET.]

And now approach, and let me drop into your most private ear, a literary secret. Of the Memoirs little has been done, and with that little I am not satisfied. They must be postponed till a mature season; and I much doubt whether the book and the author can ever see the light at the same time. But I have long revolved in my mind another scheme of Biographical writing: the lives, or rather the characters, of the most eminent persons in arts and arms, in Church and State, who have flourished in Britain from the reign of Henry VIII. to the present age. This work, extensive as it may be, would be an amusement rather than a toil: the materials are accessible in our own language, and for the most part ready to my hands: but the subject, which would afford a rich display of human nature and domestic history, would powerfully address itself to the feelings of every Englishman. The taste or fashion of the times seems to delight in picturesque decorations; and this series of British portraits might aptly be accompanied by the respective heads, taken from originals, and engraved by the best masters. Alderman Boydell,[293] and his son-in-law, Mr. George Nicol, bookseller in Pallmall, are the great undertakers in this line;* but your negociation with them will require the dexterity of an Auckland or a Malmsbury, as it is most essential that I be solicited, and do not solicit. In your walk through Pall Mall, you may call on the bookseller, who appeared to me an intelligent man, and after some general questions about his Edition of Shakespeare, &c., you may open the British portraits as an idea of your own to which I am perfectly a stranger. If he kindles at the thought, and eagerly claims my alliance, you will begin to hesitate. "I am afraid, Mr. Nichols, that we shall hardly persuade my friend to engage in so great a work. Gibbon is old, and rich, and lazy. However, you may make the tryal, and if you have a mind to write to Lausanne (as I do not know when he will be in England), I will send the application."

On the receipt of his proposal, the business will come properly before me, and it will then be in my power to deliberate, to demur, to state observations, and to prescribe terms. Should Nichols or Boydell be cool, you will be still colder; I shall hear from you the tone and motives of their refusal, and on my arrival in England I shall be free to consider, whether it may suit me to proceed in a mere literary work without any other decorations than those which it may derive from the pen of the author. *It is a serious truth, that I am no longer ambitious of fame or money; that my habits of industry are much impaired, and that I have reduced my studies to be the loose amusement of my morning hours, the repetition of which will insensibly lead me to the last term of existence. And for this very reason I shall not be sorry to bind myself by a liberal engagement, from which I may not with honour recede.

Before I conclude, we must say a word or two of Parliamentary and pecuniary concerns. 1. We all admire the generous spirit with which you damned the Assassins, but I hope that your abjuration of all future connection with Fox was not quite so peremptory as it is stated in the French papers. Let him do what he will, I must love the dog. The opinion of Parliament in favour of Louis XVI. was declared in a manner worthy of the representatives of a great and wise nation.[294] It will certainly have a powerful effect; and if the poor King be not already murdered, I am satisfied that his life is in safety: but is such a life worth his care? Our debates will now become every day more interesting; and as I only expect from you opinions and anecdotes, I most earnestly conjure you to send me Woodfall's Register, with the margins cut close, as often (and that must be very often) as the occasion deserves it.* My direction, more distinctly than in my last letter, must be under cover to Le Citoyen le Rebours, Maitre de Poste a Pontarlier, dans le department du Doubs. *I now spare no expense for news.*

2. Will it never be possible to get me a good Mortgage for my £3000? I believe it may be advisable to change my stock from the Short Annuities, the value of which is wearing every day, to the 3 per Cents., which are now so low. Notwithstanding Sainsbury's death, I hope the Buriton interest is regularly paid; when there is a stoppage, the Goslings might give you or me notice that I may not be exposed to the danger of overdrawing. I want to have Caplin's direction, as I may have some orders that should be executed before my arrival. We have written twice to Ostend without obtaining an answer. Have you had no better success? I tremble for my Madeira.

*I want some account of Mrs. G.'s health. Will my lady never write? How can people be so indolent! I suppose this will find you at Sheffield-place during the recess, and that the heavy baggage will not move until after the birthday. Shall I be with you by the first of May? The Gods only know. I almost wish that I had accompanied Madame de Staël.*

Ever yours, E. G.

[293] Boydell was Lord Mayor in 1790-91.

[294] On December 21, 1792, a copy was read to the House of Commons of the instructions sent to Earl Gower, the British Ambassador at Paris, signifying his recall in August on the ground that, as the executive power was withdrawn from Louis XVI., the credentials under which the ambassador acted were no longer available. In the instructions, the king, while "adhering to the principles of neutrality in respect to the settlement of the internal government of France," considered it "no deviation from those principles to manifest, by all the means in his power, his solicitude for the personal situation of their most Christian majesties, and their royal family; and he earnestly and anxiously hopes that they will, at least, be secure from any acts of violence, which cannot fail to produce one universal sentiment of indignation through every country of Europe." It was unanimously resolved that the paper should remain on the table of the House. The king was sentenced to death by the Convention, January 17, 1793. His appeal to the nation was rejected, January 19-20, and the final sentence announced to him on Sunday, January 20. He was executed the following day.

613.

_Lord Sheffield to Edward Gibbon._

Sheffield Place, Jan. 23rd, 1793.

Your silence, which seemed long after your extraordinary epistolary efforts, threw the family into a state of revolt; we abjured writing to you until we had further information of your state, &c. Your letters of the 1st & 6th (the latter rec^{d}. this day) promoted an immediate search for this large sheet of paper.

[Sidenote: LORD SHEFFIELD ON SWISS POLITICS.]

In respect to the French Revolution at Geneva, I consider it in a very serious light. I am perfectly satisfied that if a War with England does not take place, that the execrable french demons will produce the same Revolution in the Pays de Vaud. From what has passed lately, I have entirely changed my opinion of the Swiss character. I no longer expect that noble resistance which was supposed characteristic of them. This mortifies me, but I see a greater probability of your re-establishment in England than I had flattered myself with before. I acknowledge that no creature could leave your spot without deep regret. It is eminently beautiful and pleasant. Its convenience is of your own creation, your books are there--but tho' the translation of them to this island might cost you £400, it would not be impossible expence.

But war between this country and France is more certain than you seem to think it. You could not have read Lord Grenville's notice of Chauvelin's Paper.[295] I like it much, it seemed to show that War is inevitable--indeed letters received this day mention it as certain, and Chauvelin's departure is immediately expected. The Devils seem damnably afraid of us, and I hope with reason. There can be little doubt that Spain and Holland will heartily join and compleat the Circle of Fire, except on the frontier of your poor Swiss. Surely it will be more politick and more economick for us to engage, when backed by all Europe, than to fight them single-handed hereafter. Our merchants however affect to be panic-struck on Acct. of our Turkey fleet, which they say is worth a million sterling. I should not forget a strange dilemma in which we find ourselves through a most extraordinary neglect of that essential naval store--cordage. All the Rope-yards in England will not in a considerable time be able to supply the quantity that is wanted. I have the pleasure however of observing that the War is not likely to be unpopular. Charles F. and they who bellowed most against it certainly most wish it, because it is the only thing that can eventually overturn the Administration. But you remark how few join in the cry against War. None of the innumerable declarations of Associations give the smallest hint of disapprobation.

[Sidenote: FOX AND THE DUKE OF PORTLAND.]

I believe I mentioned that I thought, if C. Fox should manage prudently, that the Party would not suffer essentially. But he seems totally to have discarded all attention to that respectable and most necessary though vulgar condescension. In the Debate,[296] when Sir Gilbert Elliot stated that the Duke of Portland entirely differed from C. Fox, the latter distinctly said, that he had no reason to think so, but if that was the case, there was nothing left for him to do, but either to carry on the most fruitless opposition or to quit Parliament. It is said he went next morning to the Duke and repeated his threat to quit Parliament. The Duke was induced to send the Marquis of Titchfield to the House of Commons to contradict in a degree, or at least give a different colour to what Sir Gilbert had said, although the latter had taken down in writing the Duke's sentiments which he had delivered to the House. It is a most serious business to cast off or deny the Leader of the Party in the House of Commons, and such a man as Fox, with whom he has always acted. But it seems probable from the spirit of the times that the Duke will ruin himself with the Publick by adhering to him. It is probable that he will still remain enthralled with a connection which at this moment is neither consistent with his opinions, his interest, nor his estimation with those who have hitherto highly respected him; should that happen, it is impossible to unite two confidences so entirely opposite to each other, and no party can hold men together whose views for the Publick Interest are so totally different. The state of the times will accelerate decision. The ambiguous state in which things were left at the time of the Recess, must in some way be cleared up before our meeting, which is to take place a week hence.[297]

Every appearance indicates War--a War for the very existence of the Constitution--half measures cannot be pursued with safety or honour. Charles seemed disposed to support the enemies of the country, against the country, as he and his Party did the last War. You will recollect how it used to affect my nerves, and how I used to execrate the conduct of Opposition. The second attempt at the same vile game revolts me in the highest degree, and I think it will be impossible for me ever to follow such a leader. I have kept out of the way, yet I find the Country Gentlemen and many others much disposed to follow the style I took up so vigorously on the proposition being made to acknowledge the Republick. What I then said is _vaunted_ throughout Europe far beyond what it deserves. It has been nobly seconded by the Country Gentlemen. It certainly was not pronounced with indifference, but with the most hearty zeal. It was a natural effort, and probably the best of the kind I had ever made, and the friends of Government said it was the best and most useful speech that will probably be made this Sessions.

I hear since my absence that others and of high consequence are tired and disgusted with the uncertainty of the situation in which some of our friends have placed themselves, and with the multiplied intrigues that have been used to keep them in that state. In the country, by all accounts, and certainly in town, there has been a very general consent to the measures which have been taken to resist all that torrent of evil which was pouring in upon us from France; and it is truly mortifying, that those, who have done great good by their early favor to those measures, should suffer their conduct to be obscured and lose the credit of their good intentions. I believe I mentioned that I had reason to suppose L^d. L. would not accept the Seals, unless there should be something like a general coalition. But this was before the meeting of Parliament. Several of my correspondents say that he is certainly to have them immediately. The _disorganized_ state of the Party and the wrong-headedness of a Chief among the Commons have perhaps promoted it.

In respect to your passage to this country. War renders it very difficult. After a declaration, you, especially a notorious aristocrate, will hardly venture it--a degree of acrimony is to be expected, and ought to be promoted by us between the two countries. The Rhine will not be a desireable route for such an unweildy personage, who could not easily shift as difficulties arose, but you might travel the road by which Mrs. Moss returned,--by Stutgard and Frankfort, without touching upon the Rhine till she came to Cologne. From Cologne or Dusseldörf you might find your way to the Hague, and there our friend Lord Auckland would contrive to amuse you till he could find a passage in a Frigate for you to England. I by no means intend to recommend this route to you early in the Spring, but in Summer, when the invading armies will probably have left the Rhine in their rear. But until they have left its neighbourhood--Frankfort, &c., I do not see a chance of even a more active person passing that way without disagrement. In short, I should think you rather wild if you attempted to go to Paris, even if there were not war; and if you were there, the uncivilized crowding at the Pandemonium would not delight you.

[Sidenote: EXECUTION OF LOUIS XVI.]

Since this was began a letter from the D. of Richmond announces the horrid account received yesterday from Paris, that, the King was condemned to death on Sunday, was to be executed on Monday,[298] and that a general massacre of his friends was expected. I have not words to express myself. Life cannot be desireable to the unfortunate man--the abomination will in the end be useful--the execration of the World will be uniform and the extirpation of the miscreants surely must and will follow. The abhorrence of their principles will be compleat check to the further spreading of the greatest evils we have ever heard of, and on account of the odium which shall fall on their whole system. I rejoice that the worse than savage act should be done by the Assembly rather than by a tumultuous mob. I can hardly think on any other subject.

Another letter acquaints me that Parliament will meet for business sooner than I expected. Dundas has given notice of a message to come down on Monday the 31st, equivalent to a declaration of War.[299]

I shall send the diary as you desire; I was astonished to receive your letters with the Pontarlier post-mark. You may know best; I should not have supposed France the surest way for them, as the War cannot last. I shall not think of selling your stock to lay it out on a Mortgage at present. I shall consult Darrell on the rational plan of exchanging the short annuities into 3 per Cents. I have told you more than once that I had information of your Madeira, and that it was moving towards you at last. Whether de Custine has since tasted it, I cannot say, but I shall enquire. I fear some letters must have miscarried. Mention dates.

I shall never consent to your dropping the Memoirs. Keep that work always going; but you should decide whether the book and the author are to see the light together, because it might be differently filled up according to that decision. A man may state many things in a posthumous work, that he might not in another; the latter often checks the introduction of many curious thoughts and facts. But I like your Biographical plan very much. It will give great satisfaction, and it may last as long as yourself. What think you of the manner of Plutarch? I shall mention the matter to Nicholls. Well-engraved portraits is a decoration that will be desired by all. We have a slight work by Birch[300] which you know, and which accompanies some very good portraits.

We hear with most sincere concern of the state of that eminently honest _gentleman_, poor de Severy, and were highly concerned for the family. It must be obvious to you that a tolerable situation for the son, in the way you wish, becomes every day more unpromising. Nothing but the North and part of Germany is open, and the passage there during the war will not tempt our great people to send their sons, and I know and you may readily suppose that the market is overstocked in the greatest degree by the numberless Frenchmen of fashion who are soliciting for the office on any terms. So many solicit for them, Severy has scarce a chance during War.

I saw in a Newspaper some time ago a Paragraph which stated several circumstances concerning your present situation at Lausanne, and added that the account came from a noble Lord. I was a good deal annoyed, altho' the circumstance of great incorrectness proved that it did not come from me.

[295] Chauvelin had been accredited by Louis XVI. in May, 1792. But he now (December 27) addressed a note to Lord Grenville, as agent of the Executive Council of the French Republic, asking whether Great Britain was to be considered as a belligerent or as a neutral power. Lord Grenville declined (December 31) to acknowledge his official position, but explained the policy of the British Government. On January 18, 1793, Lord Grenville replied to M. Chauvelin that the British Government would continue its preparations to protect the country and its allies, and to oppose a barrier to French views of aggrandizement and the propagation of destructive principles. On January 24, M. Chauvelin was ordered to leave the kingdom within eight days. He left on January 25. The Convention declared war against England and Holland, February 8, 1793, and against Spain, March 7.

[296] Lord Sheffield alludes to the debate on the second reading of the Alien Bill (December 28, 1792). Fox opposed the Bill; Sir Gilbert Elliot spoke for it, and stated that the Duke of Portland was in its favour, and that the majority of the Opposition, of which the duke was the leader, intended to support the Government. After the debate, Elliot, Wyndham, and Fox met at the Duke of Portland's, when the duke stated that Sir Gilbert had correctly expressed his views. Fox, however, recovered his ascendency over the Duke of Portland, who authorized the Marquis of Titchfield (December 31), his eldest son, M.P. for Buckinghamshire, to confine the support of the Opposition to this particular measure. The marquis ended his speech with an attack upon the individual ministers, a passage added, it is said, by Fox, which neutralized the effect of his support (_Diaries and Correspondence of Lord Malmesbury_, vol. ii. pp. 494, 495).

[297] The Parliamentary recess lasted from January 4 to January 28, 1793.

[298] Louis XVI. was executed in the Place de la Révolution at 10.22 in the morning of Monday, January 21, 1793.

[299] The message was delivered on January 28, laying before the House the correspondence between Lord Grenville and M. Chauvelin, and asking for an augmentation of the forces by sea and land.

[300] _The Heads of Illustrious Persons of Great Britain, with their Lives and Characters_, 2 vols. fol., 1743-52, by the Rev. Thomas Birch, D.D. The engravings are by Houbraken, Gravelot, and Vertue.

614.

_Lord Sheffield to Edward Gibbon._

Downing Street, 29th Jan., '93.

Yesterday I dined with the Lord High Chancellor Loughborough and his Lady just as he had returned from the Queen's House with the Seals. I came from the country the day before to attend the King's message, which you will see in the papers. I am provoked to write to you a post sooner than I intended by letters from a miserable Frenchman in Switzerland, who signs himself Naijeiraud, chez Madame Lizardex, née Valtravers, au Bureau d'Avis, à Lausanne. He dates his letter from Payerne and Friburg. They contain expressions of the greatest distress. He supposes me the Director of all the hospitable measures in England. Enquire for him immediately, do something for him immediately, and learn whether he does not merit more. His letters are shocking to read. I shall not dislike to pay you; yet as you are a rich old fellow, I am of opinion you will take an opportunity of doing something yourself or of ordering some subscriptions in your name in this country.

[Sidenote: FOX AND HIS FOLLOWERS.]

I observe no others going into office with Lord Loughborough. The D. of Port. is enthralled by Charles Fox, notwithstanding he declares he thinks as we do on the present topics, who do not mean to follow Ch. Fox again. Many adhere to D. of Portland however, yet highly disapproving C. Fox's conduct. The latter, Erskine and Grey, &c., were daily and publickly with Chauvelin, &c., before his departure.

Maret[301] is just come with credentials from the Republick, and it is said with _carte blanche_, and to enquire whether we will receive Dumouriez; offers to withdraw Troops from all the countries attacked, to do what we please in respect to Commercial Treaty, and to abide our arrangement of Peace with Europe. If this be true, it may embarras ministers here how to treat with Pache[302] or men who may not exist two days. Would it not be infamous in respect to all Europe to treat with them at all?

[301] Hugues Bernard Maret, afterwards Duc de Bassano (1763-1839), was editor of the _Bulletin_ in which were reported the debates of the National Assembly. He had served in Belgium in concert with Dumouriez. He had already been sent to England by the Convention. He now returned with fuller powers. He remained in London till February after the dismissal of Chauvelin, and only left when the war was declared. He was a favourite of Napoleon, and Minister of the Interior under Louis Philippe.

[302] Jean Nicolas Pache (1740-1823) replaced Servan as Minister of War in October, 1792. In February, 1793, he became Mayor of Paris, and was responsible for many of the worst horrors of that year.

615.

_Lord Sheffield to Edward Gibbon._

D. S., 5th Feb., '93.

I obey your orders in sending the account of the last great debate,[303] by the first post. Poor Woodfall is in a strait waistcoat, but the account is not badly given, & I have examined and find it the best. Charles F. told us distinctly that the Sovereignty was absolutely in the people, that the Monarchy was elective, otherwise the Dynasty of Brunswick had no right, and that the majority of the people, whenever they thought proper to change the form of Government, had a right to cashier the King. Perhaps the late conduct of the Prince of Wales (you know he has discarded Fox, Sheridan, Erskine, &c.) has promoted the utterance of these things. That which was called Opposition seems suspended in a comical state. The Duke of Portland adheres to Fox, and all the party disapprove Fox's conduct and almost all vote against him. I see no symptom as yet of anybody taking office with Lord Loughborough. I believe he is delicate in saying anything lest he should appear to use means to take from the Duke of P. The war is popular except among merchants, and those of London consider it as an unavoidable calamity. We are sending Artillery to the coasts of Sussex and Kent, and an Expedition to the West Indies. The beginning, particularly, of Pitt's speech was very fine. Fox's not so good as usual; and as to Windham, I should think he is become the best, at least the most sensible speaker of the whole.

[303] The debate on the king's message for the augmentation of the forces took place on February 1. Fox spoke against the increase. It may be added that Mr. Whitbread, speaking on the same side, and alluding to the Duke of Brunswick's manifestos, said that they breathed the spirit of Attila, "who, in the emphatical words recorded by Mr. Gibbon, had said, 'Where Attila's horse sets his foot, the grass never grows.'"

616.

_To Lord Sheffield._

Begun Feb. 9,--ended Feb. 18, 1793.

[Sidenote: DEATH OF M. DE SEVERY.]

*The struggle is at length over, and poor de Severy is no more! He expired about ten days ago, after every vital principle had been exhausted by a perpetual complication of disorders, which had lasted above five months: and a mortification in one of his legs, that gradually rose to the more noble parts, was the immediate cause of his death. His patience and even chearfulness supported him to the fatal moment; and he enjoyed every comfort that could alleviate his situation, the skill of his physicians, the assiduous tenderness of his family, and the kind sympathy not only of his particular friends, but even of common acquaintance, and generally of the whole town. The stroke has been severely felt, yet I have the satisfaction to perceive that Madame de Severy's health is not affected; and we may hope that in time she will recover a tolerable share of composure and happiness. Her firmness has checked the violent sallies of grief; her gentleness has preserved her from the worst of symptoms, a dry, silent despair. She loves to talk of her irreparable loss, she descants with pleasure on his virtues; her words are interrupted with tears, but those tears are her best relief; and her tender feelings will insensibly subside into an affectionate remembrance. Wilhelm is much more deeply wounded than I could imagine, or than he expected himself: nor have I ever seen the affliction of a son and heir more lively and sincere. Severy was indeed a very valuable man: without any shining qualifications, he was endowed in a high degree with good sense, honour, and benevolence; and few men have filled with more propriety their circle in private life. For myself, I have had the misfortune of knowing him too late, and of losing him too soon. But enough of this melancholy subject.

The affairs of this theatre, which must always be minute, are now grown so tame and tranquil, that they no longer deserve the historian's pen. The new constitution of Geneva is slowly forming, without much noise or any bloodshed; and the patriots, who have staid in hopes of guiding and restraining the multitude, flatter themselves that they shall be able at least to prevent their mad countrymen from giving themselves to France, the only mischief that would be absolutely irretrievable. The Revolution of Geneva is of less consequence to _us_, however, than that of Savoy; but our fate will depend on the general event, rather than on these particular causes. In the meanwhile we hope to be quiet spectators of the struggle of this year; and we seem to have assurances that both the Emperor and the French will compound for the neutrality of the Swiss. The Helvetic body does not acknowledge the Republic of France; but Barthelemy, their Ambassador, resides at Baden, and steals, like Chauvelin, into a kind of extra official negociation. All spirit of opposition is quelled in the canton of Bern, and the perpetual banishment of the Van Berchem family has scarcely excited a murmur. It will probably be followed by that of Colonel Polier, &c.; the crime alledged in their sentence is the having assisted at the federation dinner at Rolle two years ago; and as they are absent, I could almost wish that they had been summoned to appear, and heard in their own defence. To the general supineness of the inhabitants of Lausanne I must ascribe, that the death of Louis XVI. has been received with less horror and indignation than I could have wished. I was much tempted to go into mourning, and probably should, had the Dutchess been still here; but as the only Englishman of any mark, I was afraid of being singular; more especially as our French emigrants, either from prudence or poverty, do not wear black, nor do even the Neckers. Have you read his discourse for the King? It might indeed supersede the necessity of mourning.

[Sidenote: FRENZY-FEVER OF THE FRENCH.]

I should judge from your last letter, and from the _Diary_ (alas, poor Woodfall!), that the French declaration of war must have rather surprised you. I wish (though I know not how) it could have been avoided, that we might still have continued to enjoy our safe and prosperous neutrality. You will not doubt my best wishes for the destruction of the miscreants; but I love England still more than I hate France. All reasonable chances are in favour of a confederacy, such as was never opposed to the ambition of Louis XIV.; but, after the experience of last year, I distrust reason, and confess myself fearful for the event. The French are strong in numbers, activity, enthusiasm; they are rich in rapine; and although their strength may be only that of a frenzy-feaver, they may do infinite mischief to their neighbours before they can be reduced to a strait wastecoat. I dread the effects that may be produced on the minds of the people by the increase of debt and taxes, probable losses, and possible mismanagement. Our trade must suffer; and though projects of invasion have been always abortive, I cannot forget that the fleets and armies of Europe have failed before the towns in America, which have been taken and plundered by a handful of Buccaneers. I know nothing of Pitt as a War Minister; but it affords me much satisfaction that the intrepid wisdom of the new Chancellor is introduced into the Cabinet. I wish, not merely on your own account, that you were placed in an active, useful station in Government. I should not dislike you Secretary at War.

I have little more to say of myself, or of my journey to England: you know my intentions, and the great events of Europe must determine whether they can be carried into execution this summer. If * * * * *[304] has warmly adopted _your_ idea, I shall speedily hear from him; but, in truth, I know not what will be my answer: I see difficulties which at first did not occur: I doubt my own perseverance, and my fancy begins to wander into new paths. The amusement of reading and thinking may perhaps satisfy a man who has paid his debt to the public; and there is more pleasure in building castles in the air than on the ground. I shall contrive some small assistance for your correspondent, though I cannot learn any thing that distinguishes him from many of his countrymen. We have had our full share of poor emigrants; but if you wish that any thing extraordinary should be done for this man, you must send me a measure. Adieu. I embrace My lady and the Maria, as also Louisa. Perhaps I may soon write, without expecting an answer.*

Ever yours, E. G.

[304] Probably Mr. George Nicol. See p. 359.

617.

_Edward Gibbon to Lord Chancellor Loughborough._[305]

Rolle, February 23rd, 1793.

*MY LORD,

I do not merely congratulate your lordship's promotion to the first civil office in the kingdom; an office which your abilities have long deserved, and which your temperate ambition, if I am not mistaken, had repeatedly declined. My satisfaction does not arise from an assurance of the wisdom and vigour which administration will derive from the support of so respectable an ally. But as a friend to government in general, I most sincerely rejoice that you are now armed in the common cause against the most dangerous fanatics that have ever invaded the peace of Europe; against the new barbarians, who labour to confound the order and happiness of society; and who, in the opinion of thinking men, are not less the enemies of subjects than of kings. The hopes of the wise and good are now fixed on the success of England; and I am persuaded that my personal attachment to your lordship will be amply gratified by the important share which your counsels will assume in that success. I could wish that some of your former associates possessed sufficient strength of mind to extricate themselves from the toils of prejudice and party. But I grieve that a man, whom it is impossible for me not to love and admire, should refuse to obey the voice of his country; and I begin to fear that the powerful genius of Mr. Fox, instead of being useful, will be adverse to the public service. At this momentous crisis we should inlist our whole force of virtue, ability, and spirit; and without any view to his private advantage, I could wish that our active friend, Lord Sheffield, might be properly stationed in some part of the line.

[Sidenote: LORD CHANCELLOR LOUGHBOROUGH.]

M. Necker, in whose house I am now residing on a visit of some days, wishes me to express the sentiments of esteem and consideration which he entertains for your Lordship's character. As a friend to the interest of mankind, he is warmly attached to the wellfare of Great Britain, which he has long revered as the first, and, perhaps, as the last azylum of genuine liberty. His late eloquent work, _du Pouvoir Executif_, which your lordship has assuredly read, is a valuable testimony of his esteem for our constitution; and the testimony of a sagacious and impartial stranger may have taught some of our countrymen to value the political blessings which they have been tempted to despise.

I cherish a lively hope of being in England, and of paying my respects to your lordship before the end of the summer: but the events of the year are so uncertain, and the sea and land are encompassed with so many difficulties and dangers, that I am doubtful whether it will be practicable for me to execute my purpose.

I am, my lord, most respectfully, and your lordship will permit me to add most affectionately, your most obedient and faithful humble servant.*

[305] This letter is printed in Lord Campbell's life of Lord Chancellor Loughborough as from the Rosslyn Manuscripts, and Lord Campbell remarks in a note that in 1796, when about to publish the first edition of Gibbon's miscellaneous works, Lord Sheffield applied to Lord Loughborough for permission to include this letter, but was refused. He made a second application, offering to erase his name and the name of his office (which in effect was done), but "Lord Loughborough was sensitive upon the subject of his coalition with Mr. Pitt, and he remained inflexible." However, the letter _does_ appear in the first edition, a fact which must have escaped Lord Campbell's attention.

618.

_Lord Sheffield to Edward Gibbon._

D. S., 15th March, '93.

We had intelligence of poor de Severy's death two or three weeks before the receipt of your letter. I had always thought of him as you describe him, "honourable, benevolent, and sensible." His family must lament him for ever, and I know none more likely to feel the loss.

As to the Pais de Vaud, the thorough diversion caused by the War with England will leave it in a sort of humiliated security, but I have little doubt, if that event had not taken place, that the revolutionary principle would have been insinuated thro' Geneva to the Pais de Vaud. The dereliction of character, to which the Swiss have thought it expedient to submit, subjects them to the whims of fortune and of nations. Perhaps, if the World should recover its senses, it may find itself nearly as it was, except what its dignity may have suffered; but you do not deserve to be a nation, wretches so compleatly in awe of the _sans cullotes_, that they did not dare even to wear mourning. As for you, you are a damned, unworthy, temporizing son of a bitch, and shall only be deemed a renegado Englishman in future. Never was a mourning so general in England.[306] I did not (who seldom wore it in the morning before) quit it for a quarter of a moment. I was glad to see the lower ranks indignant, although to be sure Louis XVI.'s fort was being a martyr. It may be also added that a more innocent man was never more undeservedly put to death. I should have been indeed astonished that the Neckers did not wear mourning, if the panic meanness had not been so general in your parts. Although I may not flatter myself that _sans culotterie_ will be suppressed in one campaign, yet I have few doubts in respect to the success of the Armies which attack France, especially after the experience of last campaign. It will not be necessary to take the beast by the horns and attack artillery in front, &c. In such a country as where war now flourishes, it will be easy to turn an enemy, and when an Army like that of France in such a case is obliged to make a movement, it is undone. As to the equipment of fleets, we seem to make a poor business of it.[307] Lord Sandwich in a fortnight did much more than we have done in three months and an halfe; a timid style in respect to pressing produces the evil.

I manœuvred your business in respect to Nichols in my best possible manner. In return to my wishing he could tempt you and that I would second, he talked most feelingly that he and Boydell had £40,000--everything--involved in the Shakespear. He seemed to wish to talk over such a subject when you come to England. He thought such a work would be more than you could undertake, suggested the idea of your being the Chief--shewed me the Life of Milton by Hailey, prefixed to Mr. Cowper's edition, and said that kind of writing was his fort. Persevere; as you may be in England in a few months it is unnecessary to say more at present.

I have sent by Seigneux, Lally's defence of Louis XVI., and Le Songe d'un Anglois;[308] you will be pleased with both. I sent 'Modern Gardening,'[309] and the 'Standing Orders of my Regiment,' to Meluner, the Captain of Highlanders, with whom we were so much pleased. I sent in the same parcel a number of odd things relative to Establishments, Insurance, &c., which Commissioner Fischer might like, but I was obliged to reduce the parcel on account of its size, and I know not whether the remainder is worth sending to him--but you will judge.

[Sidenote: MADAME DE STAEL IN ENGLAND.]

Madame de Stael[310] has lived in the neighbourhood of Dorking with Miss Burney, not forgetting M. de Narbonne. She is lately come to town; we endeavour to be civil. I am to conduct her to the Tower, &c., and she and some of her friends are to dine here. Small assistance will be sufficient for my correspondent, of whom I know nothing but his letter, and you say he has nothing to distinguish him. I have applied to those who were likely to be useful on the subject of what you mentioned for Wilhelm de S., but as yet without a glimpse of success. The market is over-stocked. The travelleable country is greatly circumscribed, and the measure of sending a leader is greatly exploded. I spoke to Lord Porchester,[311] and he with great satisfaction asserted the excellence of the line he had pursued of sending his son with his schoolfellow. As speaking to people on these matters does not make so much impression as writing, I have applied to some by letter.

[306] "All ranks of people have put on mourning for the unfortunate king." Lady Malmesbury to Lady Elliot, January 28, 1793 (_Life and Letters of Sir G. Elliot_, vol. ii. p. 110).

[307] Throughout 1793, and especially in September, Lord Chatham as First Lord of the Admiralty was in dispute with the Master of the Ordnance, the Duke of Richmond. One alleged that the fleet was ready but that the guns were not; the other stated that the ships were not ready to take the guns. Lord Sandwich was Lord of the Admiralty during the American War.

[308] The _Songe d'un Anglois_ and the _Plaidoyer pour Louis XVI._, both by Lally Tollendal, are printed in the second volume (pp. 251-286 and 357-388) of the "Collection des meilleurs ouvrages qui ont été publiés pour la Défense de Louis XVI.," par A. J. du Gour: Paris, 1796. From an autograph letter in George III.'s copy of _Strafford_, it appears that Lally, through Lady Sheffield, presented a copy of the _Plaidoyer_ to the king.

[309] Probably Horace Walpole's _Essay on Modern Gardening_, which was written in 1770, and printed at the Strawberry Hill Press in 1785 (4to), with a French translation on opposite pages by the Duc de Nivernois.

[310] "Madame de Staël, daughter of M. Necker, is now at the head of the colony of French noblesse, established near Mickleham. She is one of the first women I have ever met with for abilities and extraordinary intellect." Miss Burney to Dr. Burney, February 4, 1793 (_Diary and Letters_, vol. v. p. 394).

[311] Lord Porchester, son of Gen. the Hon. W. Herbert, fifth son of the Earl of Pembroke, was created Earl of Carnarvon in July, 1793.

619.

_Lord Sheffield to Edward Gibbon._

D. S., 26th March, '93.

My letter of last week did not enter on your affairs of money because Darell had not given me a final opinion; yesterday we had a full discourse thereon. The 3 per cents may sink more in proportion than the short annuities. The latter have fallen more than Mr. Darell expected, which he acknowledged when I remarked the opinion he had formerly given you. On the other hand, the 3 per cents are (for war-like times) surprisingly high. The constant regular purchase of one million of the stocks in the course of a year takes the whole of the floating stock; the great bankruptcies which have taken place, and the shyness of our monied men to discount Bills,--all these circumstances keep up the Funds. The extravagant extension of credit have produced the evil that was expected. It has been carried beyond anything that was ever known before. The War has helped to bring forward the crisis, but is not the cause of the mischief.

We seem to be _en train_ to receive good tidings by every mail, but I cannot be content on the subject of our Fleet. The Publick begins to arraign the First Lord of Admiralty in respect to alertness and attention. It is extraordinary that John Bull bore so long the alarming state of the Mediterranean, 52 French ships of war of all sizes riding triumphant and insulting all nations in that sea--a superior French Fleet also in the West Indies. I flatter myself however we are going to do something there; nothing can prove the abject state of Holland more than the extreme joy on receiving the pitifull succour of 2000 English troops. The circumstance of sending the King's son[312] had the greatest effect, and proved that England was in earnest.

Your late neglects have almost obliterated your famous three letters. You do not say whether you have received any letters from us; not the least notice is taken of Maria's or my letters. She wrote a good deal on our Politicks, she sent my _much admired_ Foxippic copied from the Newspaper, also a detail of the massacre of the priests aux Carmes, and other matters. The Chancellor leaned from the Woolsack a few days ago, to tell me he had a letter from you, and asked where was Rolle. I am so abominably engaged that we seldom meet.

We had a very pleasant party here at dinner last Saturday to meet Madame de Stael, the Prince de Poix, Lally Tollendal, Princess d'Henin, Malouet, Baron de Gillier. Narbonne was invited, but engaged. We all went in the evening to Lady Catherine Douglas, where Madame de Stael rather astonished the Chancellor. In conversation she disputed every principle of Government and Politicks--a kind of tête-à-tête. There is a great prejudice against her. She is supposed to be the most intriguing democrate likely to set the Thames on fire. I can hardly get people to agree that she is eminently lively, pleasant, endowed with extraordinary mental ability, though somewhat ridiculous. She goes out of Town Tuesday, and talks of going soon to Switzerland.

You do not mention whether you have rec^d. your Madeira. I have heard nothing lately of Mrs. Gibbon. I have hopes you will soon have a clear country to Frankfort, Cologne, and the Hague. My Lady and Maria contrive to go out daily. The latter not well.

[312] The Duke of York.

620.

_To Lord Sheffield._

Lausanne, April 27, 1793.

*My Dearest Friend, for such you most truly are, nor does there exist a person who obtains, or shall ever obtain, a superior place in my esteem and affection.

[Sidenote: DEATH OF LADY SHEFFIELD.]

After too long a silence I was sitting down to write, when, only yesterday morning (such is now the irregular slowness of the English post) I was suddenly struck, indeed struck to the heart, by the fatal intelligence[313] from Sir Henry Clinton and M. de Lally. Alas! what is life, and what are our hopes and projects! When I embraced her at your departure from Lausanne, could I imagine that it was for the last time? When I postponed to another summer my journey to England, could I apprehend that I never, never should see her again? I have often deplored the nervous complaints which so deeply affected her happiness and spirits, but I always hoped that she would spin her feeble thread to a long duration, and that her delicate frame would survive (as is often the case) many constitutions of a stouter appearance. In four days! in your absence, in that of her children! But she is now at rest; and if there be a future state, her mild virtues have surely entitled her to the reward of pure and perfect felicity. It is for you that I feel; and I can judge of your sentiments by comparing them with my own. I have lost, it is true, an amiable and affectionate friend, whom I had known and loved above three and twenty years, and whom I often styled by the endearing name of sister. But you are deprived of the companion of your life, the wife of your choice, and the mother of your children--poor children! The energy of Maria, and the softness of Louisa, render them almost equally the objects of my tenderest compassion. I do not wish to aggravate your grief; but, in the sincerity of friendship, I cannot hold a different language. I know the impotence of reason, and I much fear that the strength of your character will serve to make a sharper and more lasting impression.

The only consolation in these melancholy tryals to which human life is exposed, the only one at least in which I have any confidence, is the presence of a real friend; and of that, as far as it depends on myself, you shall not be destitute. I regret the few days that must be lost in some necessary preparations; but I trust that to-morrow se'nnight (May the fifth) I shall be able to set forwards on my journey to England; and when this letter reaches you, I shall be considerably advanced on my way. As it is yet prudent to keep at a respectful distance from the banks of the French Rhine, I shall incline a little to the right, and proceed by Schaffhausen and Stutgard to Frankfort and Cologne: the Austrian Netherlands are now open and safe, and I am sure of being able at least to pass from Ostend to Dover; from whence, without passing through London, I shall pursue the direct road to Sheffield-place. Unless I should meet with some unforeseen accidents and delays, I hope, before the end of the month, to share your solitude, and sympathise with your grief. All the difficulties of the journey, which my indolence had probably magnified, have now disappeared before a stronger passion; and you will not be sorry to hear, that, as far as Frankfort to Cologne, I shall enjoy the advantage of the society, the conversation, the German language, and the active assistance of Severy. His attachment to me is the sole motive which prompts him to undertake this troublesome journey: and as soon as he has seen me over the roughest ground, he will immediately return to Lausanne. The poor young man loved Lady S. as a mother, and the whole family is deeply affected by an event which reminds them too painfully of their own. Adieu. I could write Volumes, and shall therefore break off abruptly. I shall write on the road, and hope to find a few lines à poste restante at Frankfort and Brussells. Adieu; ever yours.*

[313] Lady Sheffield died April 3, 1793. Her death is said to have been occasioned by her attendance upon the sick _émigrés_ at Guy's hospital (_Gentleman's Magazine_ for 1793, part i. p. 379).

621.

_To Lord Sheffield._

Lausanne, May, 1793.

*MY DEAR FRIEND,

[Sidenote: ADVICE FOR FRIENDS IN GRIEF.]

I must write a few lines before my departure, though indeed I scarcely know what to say. Nearly a fortnight has now elapsed since the first melancholy tidings, without my having received the slightest subsequent accounts of your health and situation. Your own silence announces too forcibly how much you are involved in your own feelings; and I can but too easily conceive that a letter to me would be more painful than to an indifferent person. But that amiable man, Count Lally, might surely have written a second time; but your sister, who is probably with you; but Maria, alas! poor Maria! I am left in a state of darkness to the workings of my own fancy, which imagines every thing that is sad and shocking. What can I think of for your relief and comfort? I will not expatiate on those common-place topics, which have never dryed a single tear; but let me advise, let me urge, you to force yourself into business, as I would try to force myself into study. The mind must not be idle; if it be not exercised on external objects, it will prey on its own vitals.

A thousand little arrangements, which must precede a long Journey, have postponed my departure three or four days beyond the term which I had first appointed; but all is now in order, and I set off to-morrow, the ninth instant, with my Valet de Chambre, a courier on horseback, and Severy, with his servant, as far as Frankfort. I calculate my arrival at Sheffield-place (how I dread and desire to see that mansion!) for the first week in June, soon after this letter; but I will try to send you some later intelligence. I never found myself stronger, or in better health. The German road is now cleared, both of enemies and allies, and though I must expect fatigue, I have not any apprehensions of danger. It is scarcely possible that you should meet me at Frankfort, but I shall be much disappointed at not finding a line at Brussels or Ostend. Adieu. If there be any invisible guardians, may they watch over you and yours! Adieu.*

621*.

_To Lady Elisabeth Foster._

Lausanne, May the 4th, 1793.

I know not whether you are already informed of the sudden death of poor Lady Sheffield after four days' illness; but I am sure that your feeling affectionate mind will not be surprized to hear that I set out for England next week, and that in a journey undertaken at the call of friendship all the dragons of the way have already vanished. I go by Basle, Frankfort, Cologne, Brussels, and Ostend, and I flatter myself that the success of our allied arms will contribute every week to open my passage; it is even possible, though scarcely probable, that I may embark from the English town of Calais. Your answer to my last letter is doubtless on the road and will follow me: but you must write immediately to Sheffield place, and I promise you a speedy and sincere account of our afflicted friend. I wish to hear of your motions and projects; I now sigh for your return to England, and shall be most bitterly disappointed if I have not the pleasure of seeing you in that happy island, yourself and the most amiable of Dutchesses before the end of the autumn: I cannot look with confidence beyond that period.

My friend and your Chevalier[314] will guard me as far as Cologne or Frankfort; his tender attachment to his mother who is still very melancholy will recall him from thence to Lausanne; but in the course of next winter he has thoughts of visiting England. The circumstances of the times which impoverish every one, have persuaded him to listen to my advice of conducting on his travels some English pupill of fashion and fortune. Such a pupill will be fortunate in finding a real Gentleman, and I trust that the Dutchess and yourself will exert your omnipotence in providing some connection equally honourable and advantageous for my friend, and your sincere Votary. Adieu. Excuse brevity and address a Classic prayer in my behalf before some statue of Mercury the God of travellers.

[314] Wilhelm de Severy.

622.

_To his Stepmother._

Lausanne, May the 8th (my fifty-seventh birthday), 1793.

DEAR MADAM,

[Sidenote: JOURNEY TO ENGLAND.]

I have the pleasure of acquainting you that to-morrow, the 9th instant, I set forwards for England, but the pleasure of revisiting my friends and my native country is deeply embittered by the melancholy tidings from Downing Street, which have fixed and hastened my Journey. I travel by the way of Frankfort and Brussells, and your tenderness should not feel the slightest apprehension for my safety. Every enquiry is made, every convenience is provided, every precaution is taken, and though there will undoubtedly be some fatigue, I can assure you with truth, that there does not remain the shadow of a danger. I may expect to reach Sheffield-place the first week in June, from whence I will immediately give you a line. My first cares must be devoted to poor Lord S., whose grief I feel and even fear, but I shall be impatient to see the Belvidere and the maternal countenance of my most faithful friend. May the progress of fine weather confirm your health and spirits. My own are perfectly good, and I never, in my whole life, found myself better qualified for a long Journey.

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

623.

_Lord Sheffield to Edward Gibbon._

Mercer's Hall, 14th May, 1793.

We shall ever acknowledge that you are a right good friend. I was hardly able to read your letter. This is the first foreign post since its arrival. I had hopes you would come forthwith, but hardly expected such an effort as your speedy departure required. Maria & Louisa rejoice at your approach, Sarah is with us. Your apartment will be prepared; your letter arrived too late for me to write to you at Francfort. I shall address this to Brussels. All Friends wish me to involve myself as much as possible in business; I am so with a vengeance in a commission[315] (at the Head of which I am) for the Issue of 5 millions of Exchequer Bills for the relief of Commercial Credit--a matter very interesting indeed, & which I flatter myself will be of great service. I pass the day at Mercer's Hall with my fellow Commissioners--16 of the chief men of the City, excellent men, and four others.

Yours ever, S.

[315] A select committee appointed (April 25, 1793) to consider the state of commercial credit reported (April 29), recommending, _inter alia_, that five millions should be issued in Exchequer Bills for the relief of credit. The report was considered on April 30; a resolution, and subsequently a Bill, were carried for the issue of the Bills. A commission was appointed (May 3), with Lord Sheffield at the head of it, to effect the necessary arrangements.

624.

_To Lord Sheffield._

Frankfort, May 19th, 1793.

[Sidenote: FRENCH COURAGE DESERVES BETTER CAUSE.]

*And here I am, in good health and spirits, after one of the easiest, safest, and pleasantest journies which I ever performed in my whole life; not the appearance of an enemy, and hardly the appearance of a War. Yet I hear, as I am writing, the canon of the siege of Mayence,[316] at the distance of twenty miles; and long, very long, will it be heard. It is confessed on all sides, that the French fight with a courage worthy of a better cause: the town of Mayence is strong, their artillery admirable; they are already reduced to horse-flesh, but they have still the resource of eating the inhabitants, and at last of eating one another; and, if that repast could be extended to Paris and the whole country, it might essentially contribute to the relief of mankind. Our operations are carried on with more than German slowness, and when the besieged are quiet, the besiegers are perfectly satisfied with their progress. A spirit of division undoubtedly prevails; and the character of the Prussians for courage and discipline is sunk lower then you can possibly imagine. Their glory has expired with Frederic. I am sorry to have missed Lord Elgin,[317] who is beyond the Rhine with the King of Prussia. As I am impatient, I propose setting forwards to-morrow afternoon, and shall reach Ostend in less than eight days. The passage must depend on winds and packets; and I hope to find at Brussels or Dover a letter which will direct me to S. P. or Downing-street. Severy goes back from hence. Adieu: I embrace the dear Girls.

Ever yours, E. G.*

[316] Mayence was invested by the Prussian and Austrian forces early in April, 1793. It was surrendered July 22, 1793.

[317] Thomas, Lord Elgin, was appointed in August, 1792, Envoy Extraordinary at Brussels. Subsequently appointed Ambassador at Constantinople in 1799, he collected the Elgin marbles.

625.

_To Lord Sheffield._

Brussels, May 27, 1793.

*This day, between two and three o'Clock in the afternoon, I am arrived at this place in excellent preservation. My expedition, which is now drawing to a close, has been a journey of perseverance rather than speed, of some labour since Frankfort, but without the smallest degree of difficulty or danger. As I have every morning been seated in the Chaise soon after sun-rise, I propose indulging to-morrow till eleven o'Clock, and going that day no farther than Ghent: on Wednesday the 29th instant I shall reach Ostend in good time, just eight days, according to my former reckoning, from Frankfort. Beyond that I can say nothing positive; but should the winds be propitious, it is possible that I may appear next Saturday, June 1st, in Downing Street. After that _earliest_ date, you will expect me day by day till I arrive. Adieu. I embrace the dear Girls, and salute Mrs. Holroyd. I rejoyce that you have anticipated my advice of plunging into business; but I should now be sorry if that business, however important, detained us long in town. I do not wish to make a public exhibition, and only sigh to enjoy you and the precious remnant in the solitude of Sheffield-place.

Ever yours, E. G.

If I am successful I may outstrip or accompany this letter. Yours and Maria's waited for me here, and overpaid the Journey.*

626.

_To his Stepmother._

Downing Street, June 13th, 1793.

DEAR MADAM,

As you know that I am now safe, well and happy at my friend Lord Sheffield, you will easily excuse a delay of some days in my promised letter.

As long as I was on the road, and it was a long time, your apprehensions, I am much afraid, were awakened not so much in proportion to the real magnitude of the danger, as to the exquisite sensibility of your own feelings. For my own part, though the scene was nearer and more familiar to me, I must fairly own, that I saw through a magnifyer, and that my resolution to visit Lord Sheffield in his state of affliction was an effort of some courage. But I was most agreably surprized to find the Lyons whom I had seen at a distance become little gentle lap-dogs on a nearer approach. I wheeled round behind the armies by the way of Basel, Frankfort, Cologne, Brussells, and Ostend, without meeting with any hostile impediment, and indeed without seeing the face of a Soldier. My passage from Ostend was short and prosperous, and I reached Downing Street not in the least affected by the fatigue of a rough and tedious journey. I found Lord S. much better and even more chearful than I could have expected: he feels his loss, but the new scenes of public business in which he verily wisely engaged have alleviated his grief by occupying his mind. The Ladies are gone into the Country, and he proposes to follow them next week. I could much have wished to visit Bath without delay: but Lord S. will not hear of so early a separation, and as he is the immediate object of my journey, I must submit, unless you particularly desire to see me very soon. Adieu.

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

627.

_Mrs. Gibbon to Edward Gibbon._

Thursday Noon.

MY DEAREST SIR,

[Sidenote: MRS. GIBBON'S JOY.]

I truely rejoice, & congratulate you on your being once more safely arrived in your native Country; may health & happiness attend you in it. I am so happy that you have escaped all the evils I foresaw & dreaded, that I find myself better then I have been this year, & this letter is a proof of it; my last but one was to you, as a complaint in my head frighted me from attempting to use a pen, & I hope the forbearance has cured it. I wish'd to tell you so yesterday, but the joy your letter gave would not suffer my hand to be steady enough to write. I thank you most sincerely for writing so soon, & shall impatiently expect the letter you promise me. I am glad you are with Lord Sheffield. When you write tell me how he does; & the young ladies are. I shall soon acknowledge Mrs. Holroyd's kindness in writing to me; make best & kindest Compliments for me, & believe me,

My Dear Sir, Most affectionately yours, D. GIBBON.

628.

_Mrs. Gibbon to Edward Gibbon._

Belvedere, Bath, August 29, '93.

MY DEAR SIR,

I have but one excuse for not answering your last letter, to wit, not being able, as I could not hold a pen steady enough to write; yet I never felt myself happier, because I never was so miserable, as from the time those vile miscreants the french Democrats was within forty miles of Lausanne, till you arrived safe in England. Many has been the disappointments I have borne with fortitude, but the fear of having my last & only friend torn from me, was very near overseting my reason: my aggitation prevented my feeling my excessive weakness, till after I had answered your letter, which gave me a joy I shall never again experience, at least I hope not, as I trust you will not be any more expos'd to such eminent danger.

If I have the satisfaction of seeing you next month, I shall be more able to enjoy your Conversation, as my health & strength are wonderfully improv'd within this fortnight; but as much as I long to see you, I would not be the cause of bringing you from agreeable partys & places you like, till it is convenient to you to come. I have not been out this twelve month, dare not encounter the heat, & have little company at home. Your friend Mrs. Gould is as agreeable as ever, Mrs. R. grows old, Mrs. Shelly just as usual. Madame Ely & Mrs. Bonfoy are here. Mrs. Holroyd has probably told you that Miss Gould is now Mrs. Horneck. I wish she had been Mrs. Gibbon.

I am very sorry to hear Miss Louisa Holroyd's health is so indifferent, she is a charming girle, & her sister a very fine one, pray say every thing that is kind to both the Ladies for me; make my best compliments to Lord Sheffield, I make my own to Mrs. Holroyd; let me know when I may hope to see you, and believe me to be,

My Dear Sir, Your most affectionate D. GIBBON.

629.

_To his Stepmother._

Sheffield Place, Sept. 3, 1793.

DEAR MADAM,

Many days have passed away, since I have received any letter so truly, so dearly acceptable as your last. I had no occasion indeed for any fresh assurances of that regard and tenderness which I have invariably known and felt during the space of thirty-five years: but I was delighted at seeing under your own hand, and again confirmed by your letter of the same date to Mrs. Holroyd, the clearest evidence of your health, spirits, and strength, and I am still more persuaded that some minds will rise superior to the infirmities which Nature has attached to the advanced period of human life.

[Sidenote: ANXIETY TO SEE MRS. GIBBON.]

My own inclinations would immediately have carried me to the Belvidere from Dover or London; but reason compelled me to acknowledge that, as Lord Sheffield's unexpected misfortune had prompted me to undertake a Journey more hazardous in appearance than in reality, my first attention was due to him, and that it was incumbent on me to try how far the society of a friend might contribute to his relief and amusement. In the three months which we have now spent together I have had the satisfaction of finding that my labours have not been unsuccessful. Our domestic society, which is much improved by the presence of Mrs. Holroyd, some chosen company in the house, the seasonable diversion of Camps and visits, and above all, the very important business of the Exchequer bills which frequently calls him to Mercer's hall, have seconded my endeavours, and I shall leave him in a placid and even chearful temper of mind. As I now find myself of less use, I had fixed my departure about the 15th or 20th instant, but he absolutely insists on keeping me here till the end of the month; and as we expect a very agreable friend, Mr. Douglas, who married Lady Catherine North, I am almost inclined to yield to his importunity. At all events, as I shall only pass three or four days in town, you may depend on seeing me at Bath in the first week of October. I remember that your elegant little mansion will not admit of an additional inhabitant, though I may be perfectly accommodated as heretofore either in your court or over the way. But I am likewise ignorant whether our dining together, at my Lausanne hours of two or three o'Clock, may not be too great an exertion for your returning strength. Should you content yourself with receiving my morning and afternoon visits (and perhaps such an arrangement would be the most prudent), I might be tempted to prefer the Hotel, from whence a chair would convey me in a few minutes to the Belvidere. I shall expect on that subject a line from yourself or our old friend Mrs. Gould. Lord S., who is gone to town this morning, and the young Ladies beg to be kindly remembered to you. Mrs. H. will soon answer your obliging letter. I have a thousand things to say, but they will be best deferred for our interview, which I impatiently desire.

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

630.

_To Lord Sheffield._

October 2nd, 1793.

*The Cork Street hotel has answered its recommendation; it is clean, convenient, and quiet,* but the expence for a Winter residence, five guineas per week for two small rooms and closet, would much surpass that of a similar lodging without affording any superior advantages. *My first evening was passed at home in a very agreeable _tête-à-tête_ with my friend Elmsley. Yesterday I dined at Craufurd's with an excellent set, in which were Pelham and Lord Egremont. I dine to-day with my Portuguese woman[318] at Grenier's, most probably with the well-washed feet of Lady W[ebster], whom I met last night at Devonshire-house; a constant, though late, resort of society. The Duchess is as good, and Lady Elizabeth as seducing, as ever. No news whatsoever. You will see in the papers Lord Hervey's Memorial.[319] I love vigour, but it is surely a strong measure to tell a gentleman you have _resolved_ to pass the winter in his house. London is not disagreeable; yet I shall probably leave it Saturday. If any thing should occur, I will write.* Douglas with the Doctor, &c., called on me this morning. *Adieu; I embrace dear little Aunt and la Marmaille. Ever yours.*

P.S.--I have not had your letter, and if you could impart particulars, they should be entrusted only to Vulcan.

[318] Madame de Sylva.

[319] John Augustus, Lord Hervey, a captain in the Royal Navy, second son of the Bishop of Derry, and brother to Lady Elisabeth Foster, was ambassador at Florence from 1787 to 1794. In 1793 he insisted in a violent note on the dismissal of the French Minister, La Flotte, from the court of the Grand Duke of Tuscany. "It was generally supposed," writes Lord Holland, (_Memoirs of the Whig Party_, p. 56), "in the _maldicente_ city of Florence, that resentment at the French Minister for having supplanted him in the good graces of a lady quickened his hatred of the French Republick, or at least gave it the turn of insisting on the dismissal of his rival." Lord Hervey, in consequence of the affair, was recalled from Florence in 1794.

631.

_To his Stepmother._

Cork Street Hotel, Friday, October 4th, 1793.

DEAR MADAM,

[Sidenote: FROM LONDON TO BATH.]

I propose to reach Bath next Monday for a _very_ late dinner at York-house, where my old friend Will Budd will be so good as to secure me a bed-chamber and dining-room on the same floor with accommodations for two servants. I am very impatient to embrace you, but must postpone that pleasure till the _usual_ time of your rising next day: for not the minutest circumstance of your life must be disarranged on my account, as I mean to leave you in every point of health and spirits at least as well as I find you.

I am Ever yours, E. G.

632.

_To Lord Sheffield._

York-house, Bath, October 9th, 1793.

*Sunday afternoon I left London, and lay at Reading, and Monday in very good time I reached this place after a very pleasant airing; and am always so much delighted, and improved, with this union of ease and motion, that, were not the expence enormous, I would travel every year some hundred miles, more especially in England. I passed the day with Mrs. G. yesterday. In mind and conversation she is just the same as twenty years ago. She has spirits, appetite, legs, and eyes, and talks of living till ninety. I can say from my heart, Amen. We dine at two, and remain together till nine; but, although we have much to say, I am not sorry that she talks of introducing a third or fourth actor. Lord Spenser expects me about the 20th; but if I can do it without offence, I shall steal away two or three days sooner, and you shall have advice of my motions.

The troubles of Bristol[320] have been serious and bloody. I know not who was in fault; but I do not like appeasing the mob by the extinction of the toll, and the removal of the Hereford militia, who had done their duty. Adieu. The Girls must dance at Tunbridge. What would dear little Aunt say if I was to answer her letter? Drop in my ear something of your secret conversations.

Ever yours, &c., E. G.

I still follow the old style, though the Convention has abolished the Christian Era, with months, weeks, days, &c.*

[320] New toll-gates had been placed on the bridge at Bristol; but they were burnt by a mob which, from September 30 to October 3, attacked the toll-houses, and broke the windows of the Guildhall and Council-house. The Herefordshire Militia were twice called out and ordered to fire on the mob; eleven rioters were killed and forty-five wounded. The attempt to raise a toll was abandoned.

633.

_To Lord Sheffield._

York-house, Bath, October 13th, 1793.

*I am as ignorant of Bath in general as if I were still at Sheffield. My impatience to get away makes me think it better to devote my whole time to Mrs. G.; and dear little aunt, whom I tenderly salute, will excuse me to her two friends, Mrs. Hartley and Preston, if I make little or no use of her kind introduction. A _tête-à-tête_ of eight or nine hours every day is rather difficult to support; yet I do assure you, that our conversation flows with more ease and spirit when we are alone, than when any auxiliaries are summoned to our aid. She is indeed a wonderful woman, and I think all her faculties of the mind stronger and more active than I have ever known them. I have settled, that ten full days may be sufficient for all the purposes of our interview. I should therefore depart next Friday, the 18th instant, and am indeed expected at Althorp on the 20th; but I may possibly reckon without my host, as I have not yet apprized Mrs. G. of the term of my visit; and will certainly not quarrel with her for a short delay. Adieu. I must have some political speculations. The Campaign, at least on our side, seems to be at an end. Ever yours.*

634.

_To his Stepmother._

Star Inn, Oxford, Friday evening, Oct. 18, 1793.

DEAR MADAM,

If true friendship were not always a coward, it would be almost useless to say that after a very pleasant airing I am arrived here without accident or fatigue. By the first post you shall hear of me from Althorp.

I am Ever yours, E. G.

635.

_To his Stepmother._

Althorp, Oct. 20th, 1793.

DEAR MADAM,

[Sidenote: MRS. GIBBON'S MENTAL YOUTH.]

The remainder of my Journey has been as easy and prosperous as the beginning, and I am now most agreably settled for a fortnight at this place. The society of a very pleasing and friendly family does not however make me forget the Belvidere, and I wish that I could have given myself a larger scope for my visit to Bath. Yet I have the satisfaction of thinking, that of the narrow span I did not lose any part, and as you were my sole object, I never deviated into any other company or amusement. As we were almost always alone, we enjoyed perhaps as much of each other's society in ten days, as we should have had with the common dissipations of the World in ten weeks. I had the satisfaction of finding and leaving you in a state of health, spirits, and even _mental_ youth, which you have the fairest prospect of preserving to a very late period of life, and what more can either yourself or your friends desire? My best compliments to Mrs. Gould.

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

636.

_To Lord Sheffield._

Althorpe library, Tuesday, four o'clock, Nov., '93.

*We have so completely exhausted this morning among the first editions of Cicero, that I can only mention my departure hence to-morrow, the sixth instant. I lye quietly at Woburn, and reach London in good time Thursday. By the following post I write somewhat more largely. My stay in London will depend, partly on my amusement, and your being fixed at Sheffield-place; unless you think I can be comfortably arranged for a week or two with you at Brighton.* An insignificant Minister is often soothed by sops and jobbs. *The military remarks seem good; but now to what purpose! Adieu. I embrace and much rejoyce in Louisa's improvement. Lord Ossory was from home at Farning Woods.*

637.

_To Lord Sheffield._

London, Friday, Nov. 8th, four o'clock.

*Walpole has just delivered yours, and I hasten the direction, that you may not be at a loss. I will write to-morrow, but I am now fatigued, and rather unwell. Adieu. I have not seen a soul except Elmsley.*

638.

_To Lord Sheffield._

St. James's Street, Nov. 9th, 1793.

*As I dropt yesterday the word _unwell_, I flatter myself that the family would have been a little alarmed by my silence to-day. I am still awkward, though without any suspicions of gout, and have some idea of having recourse to medical advice. Yet I creep out to-day in a chair, to dine with Lord Lucan. But as it will be literally my first going down stairs, and as scarcely any one is apprized of my arrival, I know nothing, I have heard nothing, I have nothing to say. My present lodging,[321] a house of Elmsley's, is chearful, convenient, somewhat dear, but not so much as a Hotel: a species of habitation for which I have not conceived any great affection. Had you been stationary at Sheffield, you would have seen me before the twentieth; for I am tired of rambling, and pant for my home, that is to say, for your house. But whether I shall have courage to brave *P. of W.* and a bleak down, time only can discover. Adieu. I wish you back to S.-pl. The health of dear Louisa is doubtless the first object; but I did not expect Brighton after Tunbridge. Whenever dear little aunt is separate from you, I shall certainly write to her; but at present how is it possible?*

Ever yours, E. G.

[321] 76, St. James's Street.

639.

_To Lord Sheffield._

[Most private.]

St. James's Street, Nov. 11th, 1793.

[Sidenote: IN THE HANDS OF THE SURGEONS.]

*I must at length withdraw the veil before my state of health, though the naked truth may alarm you more than a fit of the gout. Have you never observed, through my _inexpressibles_, a large prominency _circa genitalia_, which, as it was not at all painful, and very little troublesome, I had strangely neglected for many years?[322] But since my departure from Sheffield-place it has increased, most stupendously, is increasing, and ought to be diminished. Yesterday I sent for Farquhar,[323] who is allowed to be a very skilful surgeon. After viewing and palping, he very seriously desired to call in assistance, and has examined it again to-day with Mr. Cline,[324] a surgeon, as he says, of the first eminence. They both pronounce it a _hydrocele_ (a collection of water), which must be let out by the operation of tapping; but from its magnitude and long neglect, they think it a most extraordinary case, and wish to have another surgeon, Dr. Bayley, present. If the business should go off smoothly, I shall be delivered from my burthen, (it is almost as big as a small child), and walk about in four or five days with a truss. But the medical gentlemen, who never speak quite plain, insinuate to me the _possibility_ of an inflammation, of fever, etc. I am not appalled at the thoughts of the operation, which is fixed for Wednesday next, twelve o'clock; but it has occurred to me that you might wish to be present, before and afterwards, till the crisis was past; and to give you that opportunity, I shall solicit a delay till Thursday, or even Friday. In the mean while, I crawl about with some labour, and much indecency, to Devonshire-house, where I left all the fine ladies making flannel waistcoats;[325] Lady Lucan's, &c. Adieu. Varnish the business for the ladies; yet I am afraid it will be public;--the advantage of being notorious. Ever yours.*

[322] Gibbon had, in 1761, consulted Mr. (afterwards Sir Cæsar) Hawkins, the surgeon, who wished to see him again. But he never returned, or consulted any other medical man till November, 1793.

[323] Sir Walter Farquhar, Bart. (cr. 1796), was originally an army doctor. He died in 1819.

[324] Henry Cline (1750-1827) was a pupil of Hunter, and at this time surgeon of St. Thomas's Hospital.

[325] For the soldiers serving in Flanders under the Duke of York.

640.

_To his Stepmother._

St. James's Street, No. 76, Nov. 21, '93.

MY DEAR MADAM,

My friend Lord S. having left me to return into Sussex, I thought you would not be sorry to receive a short assurance of my health under my own hand. You may justly reproach me with the long neglect of a growing complaint, but I am now in the hands of the most skillful physicians and surgeons, who have given me immediate relief, and promise me a safe and radical cure. With their approbation I live as usual, and dine abroad every day, and in a fortnight, when my friends return from Brighton, I shall meet them at S. P. and remain there till after Christmas.

I am Ever yours, E. G.

641.

_To Lord Sheffield._

St. James's, Nov. 25, '93.

[Sidenote: A SECOND OPERATION NEEDED.]

*Though Farquahar has promised to write you a line, I conceive you may not be sorry to hear directly from me. The operation of yesterday was much longer, more searching and more painful than the former, but it has eased and lightened me to a much greater degree: no inflammation, no feaver, a delicious night, leave to go abroad to-morrow and to go out of town when I please _en attendant_ the future measures of a radical cure. If you hold your intention of returning next Saturday to S. P., I shall probably join you about the Thursday following, after lying two nights at Beckenham.[326] The Devons are going to Bath, and the hospitable Craufurd follows them. Yet I do not want dinners. I passed a delightful day with Burke; an odd one with Monsignor Erskine, the Pope's Nuncio.--Of public news, you and the papers know much more than I do. We seem to have strong sea and land hopes; nor do I dislike the Royalists having beaten the _Sans-Culottes_ and taken Dol. How many minutes will it take to guillotine the seventy-three new members of the Convention who are now arrested? Adieu. I embrace the Ladies.*

Ever yours, E. G.

[326] At Lord Auckland's, at Eden Farm.

642.

_Lord Sheffield to Edward Gibbon._

Brighton, Tuesday, Nov. 26, 1793.

We are very much content with the account of you, especially Mr. Farquar's. His is really excellent. As this air does not particularly suit Louisa, & as I brought a bowel complaint with me from London and cannot bathe, the Ladies will settle at Sheffield Place to-morrow & I shall settle there on Thursday. We shall expect you on the Thursday following, at furthest, perhaps sooner. I suppose you write to Mrs. Gibbon, but I do not know why I suppose it. There is little or no Society here. I have had one pleasant dinner with Gerrard Hamilton, who is tolerably well, and am to dine with him to-morrow.

I have seen an officer just come from Portsmouth, who says that the Fleet, with Sir Charles Grey,[327] dropped down to St. Helens yesterday, & that Lord Moira[328] has ordered all his officers to be on board to-morrow. I understand that Lord Moira will have from ten to fifteen thousand troops. They are to rendezvous at Jersey, & afterwards, if circumstances are favourable, their destination is somewhere about Cancale. There are good accounts of the encreasing scarcity of provisions among the Infidels & murderers. The garrison at Fort Louis[329] have judiciously preferred the surrendering prisoners of War to the deadly privilege of going home.

A letter from Lord Auckland talks of going for three or four days to Lambeth soon. I have mentioned in a letter that you proposed to pass two nights with him. I shall be sorry if you should not see him.

Ever yours, SHEFFIELD.

Aunt shall be much obliged if Mr. G. can obtain for her Louisa _Les pensees de Paschal_[330] in one Vol. to bring down with him.

[327] Sir Charles Grey, afterwards first Earl Grey (1729-1807), sailed November 23, in joint command with Jervis, afterwards Earl St. Vincent, on an expedition against the French West Indian Islands.

[328] Francis Rawdon Hastings, second Earl of Moira and first Marquis of Hastings (1754-1826), had served with distinction in the American War. The expedition here alluded to was that which sailed in December, 1793, to aid the French royalists in Brittany. The expedition returned without effecting anything.

[329] Fort Louis, part of the position held by the French army in Alsace, was besieged by the Austrians, November 10, 1792. It surrendered on November 14, and the four thousand French troops who formed its garrison became prisoners of war.

[330] Gibbon was a diligent student of Pascal, and his irony was cultivated by constant reading of his works. One curious parallel may be noted in their writings. "Abu Rafe," writes Gibbon (_Decline and Fall_, ed. 1862, vol. vii. p. 252), "was an eye-witness, but who will be witness for Abu Rafe?" Similarly Pascal, in the _Lettres Provinciales: neuvième lettre_, p. 154 (ed. Firmin Didot, 1853), writes, "'Mais, mon père, qui nous a assuré que la Vierge en répond?' 'Le père Barry,' dit-il, 'en répond pour elle.' 'Mais, mon père, qui répondra pour le père Barry?'"

643.

_To Lord Sheffield._

St. James's Street, Nov. 30, '93.

[Sidenote: DINNER WITH THE CHANCELLOR.]

*It will not be in my power to reach S. P. quite so soon as I wished and expected. Lord Auckland informs me that he shall be at Lambeth[331] next week Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday: I have therefore agreed to dine at Beckenham on Friday. Saturday will be spent there, and, unless some extraordinary temptation should detain me another day, you will see me by four o'clock Sunday the ninth of December. My conversation with the Ambassador in what relates to you shall be _proper_: but a Swiss Philosopher is not a match for his Excellency. I dine to-morrow with the Chancellor[332] at Hampstead, and what I do not like at this time of the year, without a proposal to stay all night. Yet I would not refuse, more especially as I had denied him on a former day.--My health is good but I shall have a final interview with Farquhar before I leave town.--We are still in darkness about Lord Howe[333] and the French ships: but hope seems to preponderate.--Adieu, nothing that relates to Louisa can be forgot.*

Ever Yours, E. G.

[331] Dr. John Moore (1730-1805), Archbishop of Canterbury (1783-1805), was, by his marriage to Catherine Eden, daughter of Sir Robert Eden, connected with Lord Auckland.

[332] Lord Loughborough.

[333] Richard, Earl Howe (1726-1799), had sailed (November 9) in search of the French; but he was compelled to return to Spithead (November 29) without bringing them to action. "We continue in the same eternal state of anxious expectation of news from Lord Howe. Nothing is yet heard" (Lord Auckland to Lord H. Spencer, December 3, 1793: _Correspondence_, iii. 151). Gibbon did not live to hear of the victory of June 1, 1794.

644.

_To Lord Sheffield._

St. James's Street, Dec. 6th, 1793. 16 du mois Frimaire.

The man tempted me and I did eat--and that man is no less than the Chancellor, whose frigid reserve has thawed into sudden kindness and civility. I dine and lye to-day, as I intended, at Beckenham: but he recalls me (the third time this week) by a dinner to-morrow (Saturday) with Burke and Windham, which I do not possess sufficient fortitude to resist. Sunday he dismisses me again to the aforesaid Beckenham, but insists on finding me there Monday, which he will probably do supposing there should be room and wellcome at the Ambassador's.[334] I shall not therefore arrive at Sheffield till Tuesday the 10th instant, and though you may perceive that I do not want society or amusement, I sincerely repine at the delay. You will likewise derive some comfort from hearing of the spirit and activity of my motions. Farquhar is satisfied, allows me to go, and does not think I shall be obliged to precipitate my return. Shall we never have anything more than hopes and rumours from Lord Howe? Pray embrace the Ladies for me, and assure Mr. Greg. Way of my concern that our different arrangements have not permitted us to meet at Sheffield.

Ever yours, E. G.

[334] Gibbon met Pitt at Eden Farm. "He was much pleased," writes Lord Sheffield, December 17, 1793, of this stay at Beckenham, "with his visit there, and his occurrence with the minister, in a family way, was a great satisfaction to him" (_Auckland Correspondence_, iii. 158).

645.

_To his Stepmother._

Sheffield-place, Dec. 12, 1793.

MY DEAR MADAM,

I should have continued to write from London, if the state of my health, or rather my particular complaint, on the subject of which it is not easy to be explicit, had afforded any events. But you may rest assured that I am now in the best hands, and that my occasional relief will be concluded in due time by a safe and radical cure. I have not been advised to make any change in my way of life, and after enjoying as usual the best Society in London, my physician has allowed me to visit Sheffield-place. I arrived here yesterday, and shall remain in this quiet retirement till the middle of January. Lord Sheffield is nervous and rather low-spirited, complains of his eyes and bowels, and appears to me more affected with his loss than he was some months ago. The three Ladies pass the winter in the Country, but he will frequently visit town and the house of Commons. They all wish to be remembered to you, and Mrs. H. has enclosed a letter for her maid. Adieu, my Dear Madam, believe me with the warmest feelings of affection and gratitude,

Ever Yours, E. GIBBON.

646.

_Mrs. Gibbon to Edward Gibbon._

A thousand thanks to you, my Dear Sir, for your very kind letter; none ever gave me so much joy. I truly congratulate you on your recovery, and sincerely hope it will improve every day to good & lasting health, yet I fear you will make too free with the liberty you have obtain'd, & therefore beg you to remember it is the middle of winter; I am too happy at present to reproach you, & too much rejoiced to express myself as I wish. I love L^d. Sheffield dearly, indeed I cannot say how much, & shall be glad to hear you are at S. P.

I cannot help thinking you have had some share in certain appearances at Court. Has L^d. S. refused the Irish vice royalty? Next to you, I think of my Country. Ah, what a falling off from Roman Fortitude. I shall add no more, but that I hardly know myself how much I am interested in your health & happiness; may both attend you, & alway think of me as

Your most affectionate D. GIBBON.

647.

_To Lord Sheffield._

St. James's Street, four o'clock, Tuesday, Jan. 7, 1794.[335]

[Sidenote: RETURN TO LONDON.]

*This date says every thing. I was almost killed between Sheffield-place and East Grinsted, by hard, frozen, long, and cross ruts, that would disgrace the approach of an Indian wigwam. The rest was something less painful; and I reached this place half dead, but not seriously feverish, or ill. I found a dinner invitation from Lord Lucan; but what are dinners to me? I wish they did not know of my departure. I catch the flying post. What an effort! Adieu, till Thursday or Friday.*

* * * * *

Gibbon died at 76, St. James's Street, on January 16, 1794. He was buried in Lord Sheffield's family burial-place in Fletching, Sussex.

[Sidenote: LAST MOMENTS OF GIBBON.]

The following account of his last moments is given by Lord Sheffield in his edition of Gibbon's _Miscellaneous Works_ (1814), vol. i. pp. 422-425:--

"After I left him on Tuesday afternoon, the fourteenth, he saw some company, Lady Lucan and Lady Spencer, and thought himself well enough at night to omit the opium draught, which he had been used to take for some time. He slept very indifferently; before nine the next morning he rose, but could not eat his breakfast. However, he appeared tolerably well, yet complained at times of a pain in his stomach. At one o'clock he received a visit of an hour from Madame de Sylva, and at three, his friend, Mr. Craufurd, of Auchinames, (for whom he had a particular regard,) called, and stayed with him till past five o'clock. They talked, as usual, on various subjects; and twenty hours before his death, Mr. Gibbon happened to fall into a conversation, not uncommon with him, on the probable duration of his life. He said, that he thought himself a good life for ten, twelve, or perhaps twenty years. About six, he ate the wing of a chicken, and drank three glasses of Madeira. After dinner he became very uneasy and impatient; complained a good deal, and appeared so weak, that his servant was alarmed. Mr. Gibbon had sent to his friend and relation, Mr. Robert Darell, whose house was not far distant, desiring to see him, and adding, that he had something particular to say. But, unfortunately, this desired interview never took place.

"During the evening he complained much of his stomach, and of a disposition to vomit. Soon after nine, he took his opium draught, and went to bed. About ten, he complained of much pain, and desired that warm napkins might be applied to his stomach. He almost incessantly expressed a sense of pain till about four o'clock in the morning, when he said he found his stomach much easier. About seven, the servant asked, whether he should send for Mr. Farquhar? he answered, no; that he was as well as he had been the day before. At about half past eight, he got out of bed, and said he was '_plus adroit_' than he had been for three months past, and got into bed again, without assistance, better than usual. About nine, he said that he would rise. The servant, however, persuaded him to remain in bed till Mr. Farquhar, who was expected at eleven, should come. Till about that hour he spoke with great facility. Mr. Farquhar came at the time appointed, and he was then visibly dying. When the _valet de chambre_ returned, after attending Mr. Farquhar out of the room, Mr. Gibbon said, '_Pourquoi est-ce que vous me quittez?_' This was about half past eleven. At twelve, he drank some brandy and water from a tea-pot, and desired his favourite servant to stay with him. These were the last words he pronounced articulately. To the last he preserved his senses; and when he could no longer speak, his servant having asked a question, he made a sign, to shew that he understood him. He was quite tranquil, and did not stir; his eyes half-shut. About a quarter before one, he ceased to breathe.

"The _valet de chambre_ observed, that Mr. Gibbon did not, at any time, shew the least sign of alarm or apprehension of death; and it does not appear that he ever thought himself in danger, unless his desire to speak to Mr. Darell may be considered in that light."

[335] "The Gibbon is better, but I am by no means without inquietude on his account. It is thought necessary that he should go to London on Tuesday; probably I shall follow him shortly for two days, for I shall be impatient to see how he goes on" (Lord Sheffield to Lord Auckland, January 5, 1794: _Auckland Correspondence_, iii. 168).

INDEX.

[Names, etc., marked with an asterisk occur only in the notes; where names occur in both text and note (on different pages), the numerical note-references are printed in italics.]

A

Abercromby, General, ii. 276, 285

Abingdon, Earl of, i. 90

Abingdon, Lady, i. 90

Abington, Mrs. (Fanny Barton), ii. 4

Abolition of Slave Trade, the, ii. 239, 294

Acland, Colonel John Dyke, i. 325

*Acland, Sir Thomas, i. 273

Acton, Dr., his kindness to Gibbon, i. 36, 37; his misfortunes, i. 67

Acton, Mrs., Gibbon's opinion of, i. 38

*Acton, Lord, i. 37

*Acton, Sir John F. E., i. 37

Adam, Père, i. 92

Addington, Dr. Anthony, attends Gibbon's father, i. 122; predicts recovery of George III., i. _122_; attends Godfrey Clarke, i. 238, 241

*Adelaide, Madame, i. 326; ii. 292

*Aitken ("John the Painter"), the Bristol incendiary, i. 301

Albemarle, Lady, i. 207

Alien Bill, the, ii. 363

*Allen, Ethan, i. 270

Almack's Club, i. 283

Althorpe, Lord, ii. 18

America, resolutions of Congress, i. 242; Declaration of Independence, i. _283_; troubles with, i. 249-251, 256-265 _passim_, 270, 272, 278, 284, 287 _et seq._, 316, 324, 325, 329; ii. 9, 25, 69, 151; treaty with France, i. 333

Amherst, Colonel, i. 174

*Amory, Thomas, _The Life of John Buncle_, i. 189

*Amyand, Sir George, ii. 184

Ancaster, Duchess of, ii. 300, 315

Ancram, Earl of, ii. 275

Andrews, Richard, ii. 126, 138, 184

*_Annual Register_, quoted, i. 17, 108, 146, 156, 220, 371

*Anselme, General, ii. 314

Apsley, Lord, i. 149

*Arbuthnot, Admiral, i. 363, 384

Arles, Archbishop of. _See_ Dulau, J. F. M.

Armitstead, Mrs., marries C. J. Fox, ii. 179

*Arnold, Benedict, i. 270, 275, 294

*Arnould, Sophie, ii. 211

Arras, Bishop of (M. H. de Conzie), ii. 266

*Articles, Parliament and the XXXIX., i. 147

Ashburnham, Lord, i. 225; ii. 305

Ashburton, Lord, i. 90, 238; Madras Council prosecution, i. _362_; Chancellor of Duchy of Lancaster, ii. 13, 96

Ashby, Mrs., i. 253, 287; ii. 22

Associations, formed to support the Government, ii. 349, 352

*Astley, Sir John, i. 148

Aston, Lady, i. 38; ii. 135

Aston, Sir Willoughby, i. 38; ii. 135

Atwood's Club, Gibbon joins, i. 152

Auckland, Lord (William Eden), American Commissioner, i. _332_; Gibbon's colleague on Board of Trade, i. _366_; his advice to Gibbon, i. 387; M.P. for Woodstock, i. 390; created a peer, ii. 25; squib on his mission to France, ii. 148; signs treaty between England and France, ii. _152_; Gibbon's claret, ii. 282, 288; at the Hague, ii. 365; Gibbon's host at Beckenham, ii. 395, 397; his _Journal and Correspondence_ quoted, ii. _19_, _35_, _57_, _92_, _157_, _158_, _162_, _172_, _265_, _397-399_

Augusta, Princess (Duchess of Brunswick), i. 65, 149

Austria, Emperor Leopold of, his meeting with King of Prussia at Pilnitz, ii. 271

Austria, Empress Maria Theresa of, i. 394

*Autobiography, Gibbon's, quoted, i. 25, 29, 173

*Avranches, Bishop of, ii. 324

B

Bach, Johann Christian, appointed Director of Public Concerts in London, i. 204

*Baddeley, Mrs., i. 146

Bagshot camp, review at, ii. 304

Baker, the Jesuit, receives Gibbon into Roman Catholic Church, i. 1

*Ball, Dean of Chichester, i. 399

Balsamo, Giuseppe. _See_ Cagliostro, Comte de

Baltimore, Lord, i. 91

*Bankes, Mr., M.P. for Corfe Castle, ii. 97

Banks, Sir Joseph, ii, 218, 226, 239

Barazzi, M. (Banker at Rome), i. 71, 72

Barbary, and Spain, i. 265

Barré, Colonel Isaac (the Black Musqueteers), i. 26, 145, 238, 240, 250; Paymaster of the Forces, ii. 19

*Barri, Madame du, i. 313, 314

*Barrington, Viscount, i. 349

*Barrington, Sir J., i. 89

Barrington, Shute (Bishop of Durham), i. 195

Barrymore, Lord, ii. 303

Barthélemy, Marquis de, ii. 355, 370

Bartoli, M., i. 59

Barton, Mr., i. 142, 193

Barton, George (Lord Sheffield's footman), i. 250, 252

Bassano, Duc de, ii. 367

Bathurst, Earl, i. _341_, 393

Batt, John Thomas ("Lawyer Batt"), Master in Chancery, and Commissioner for auditing Public Accounts, i. 191, 196, 216, 240, 261, 265, 273, 279, 390; ii. 136, 158, 163, 218, 225, 239, 244, 313, 330, 349

Batten, Mr., i. 162

*Bavaria, Elector of, i. 334

Bavois, Madame de (Miss Comarque), i. 82, 83, 220

Bayley, Mr., i. 17, 119, 152, 249

Bayley, Dr., ii. 394

Beauchamp, Lord, i. 247, _393_; ii. 6, _32_, 102

Beauclerk, Lady Diana, i. _82_, 279, 304, 348

Beauclerk, Topham, i. _82_, 279, 280, 299, 304, 333, 348

*Beaumarchais, i. 371

*Beaumont and Fletcher's _Knight of the Burning Pestle_, i. 284

Beauvais, Bishop of, ii. 342

Beauvau, Princess de, i. 314, 319

*Beckford, Lord Mayor, presents "Remonstrance" to King, i. 113

*Beckford, Mr., and Gibbon's library, ii. 300

Bedford, Duchess of, i. 262

Bedford, Duke of, ambassador to France, i. 30, 32, 35; and the British Coffee-House, i. _201_

*_Bedford Correspondence_, the, quoted, i. 28

Belmore, Lady, ii. 275

*Belmore, Lord, ii. 275

Bellamont, Lord, his duel with Lord Townshend, i. 180, 182

*Benfield, Paul, i. 308

*Bengal, famine in, i. 184

*Bentinck, Lord Edward, ii. 350

Beriton, Gibbon's Hants Estate, i. 128, 153; ii. 6, 138, 175, 182, 189, 199 _et seq._, 222 _et seq._, 227, 234, 240

Berkeley, Lord, i. 58, 74

Berne, Canton of, ii. 283, 295, 299, 316, 370

*Berry, Miss, on Gibbon's library, ii. 301

Bertrand-Molleville, Marquis de, ii. _311_, 329

Besançon, Gibbon at, i. 36

*Besson, Madame, i. 60

*Best's _Personal and Literary Memorials quoted_, i. 396

*_Biographie Universelle_, ii. 326

Birch, Rev. Dr. Thomas, ii. 366

*Biron, Duc de, ii. 290

Biron, Duchesse de, ii. 289, 324, 333

Black Musqueteers, the, i. 26

Blackstone's _Commentaries_, quotation from, ii. 205

Blessington, Earl of, i. 2

Blondel, Gibbon's valet, ii. 124, 131

Board of Trade, Gibbon appointed Commissioner of, i. 354, 366; vote passed against: Burke on value of, i. 378; suppressed, ii. 14

Bobbin, Benjamin, i. 35

Boissier, i. 94, 105

Bolingbroke, Lady (Lady Diana Spencer), i. 82, 85

Bolingbroke, Lord, "the Bully," i. 82, 85, _312_

*Bollmann, M., ii. 292

Bolton, Duke of, i. 39, 44, _153_

Bolton, Theophilus, i. 81

*Bombelles, Madame de, ii. 115

*Bondeli, Julie von, her account of Gibbon and Mdlle. Curchod, i. 40

*Bonfoy, Captain Hugh, R.N., i. 189, 265

Bonfoy, Mrs. Hugh (_née_ Eliot), i. 189, 220, 266; ii. 386

Bonham, Mr., ii. 175, 182

Bontemps, Madame, i. 31, 35

Boodle's Club, Masquerade given by, at the Pantheon, i. 212, 215

Bordot, M., i. 22

Borromean Islands, i. 57

Boston, attack upon the teaships in the harbour, i. _205_; Port Bill, i. 206, 208; investment of, i. 257, 258

*Boswell's _Life of Johnson_ quoted, i. 273

*Boufflers, Duc de, ii. 289

*Boufflers, Marquise de, i. 312

Bouillé, Marquis de, ii. 254, 256, _270_, 285, 286, _329_

Bouillon, Duc de, ii. 256, _334_

Bouillon, Madame de, ii. 334

Boulogne, Gibbon at, i. 27

Bourbon, Abbé de, ii. 115

Bourbon, Duc de, ii. _237_, 269

Bourcard, M., ii. 45

Boydell, John (Lord Mayor), his edition of Shakespeare, ii. 276, 359, 374

Bradley, Thomas, i, 35

*Bramston's _The Man of Taste_, i. 124

*Brandt, i. 143

*Brathwaite, Colonel, ii. 19

*Brentès, Madame de, i. 81

Bricknall, Mr. Gibbon's lawyer, i. 131, 133, 141, 150, 153

Bridgewater, Duke of, i. 27, 28

*Brienne, Cardinal de (Archbishop of Sens), ii. 162, 181

Brighton, Gibbon's house at, ii. 3, 7

Brissoné, Madame de, i. 2

Brissot, J. Pierre (de Warville), ii. _258_, 259, _318_, _325_, 350

*Bristol, Earl of, i. 21, 265; ii. 15

Bristol, Countess of. _See_ Kingston, Duchess of

Bristol, toll-gate riots at, ii. 390

Bristow, Miss, ii. 105, 117

British coffee-house, the resort of Scotchmen, i. 201

Broglie, Duc de, ii. 269

Bromwich, Mr., i. 93

*Brooke, Member of Madras Council, i. 362

*Brooklyn, battle of, i. 287

*Brooks's Club, i. 283, 376

Brown, Lancelot (the landscape gardener known as "Capability Brown"),