Part 16

Such was the winning character of poor Lord Edward that without patronage, wealth, no very superior abilities, he had the faculty of attaching men of all ranks to his person. He was universally beloved both among his family and country and acquaintances. His loss has brought forth more genuine, unfeigned tears of sorrow than would perhaps the death of fifty other individuals, even in his own rank of life, and taken out of a family as numerous. Ly. Edward was sent out of the country upon his apprehension; it was notified harshly, intimating that unless she obeyed speedily she would be arrested and tried for her life, as Government could hang her from proofs they had against her. She said she would stand ye trial, provided she might be allowed to share the prison of her ever-to-be-lamented husband. This was denied her, and she was compelled to set off with her two children, one only a month old, to this country, with a passport limiting her stay. Ld. Henry, upon his arrival in Dublin, was peremptorily refused an interview with his brother. I shall not give the particulars of what passed when he did see him, until I have heard it from himself, as he returned last night. The D. of Richmond came forward in the warmest manner. He had an audience with ye King, and laid before him the letter he had written to Ld. Camden.[208]

[Sidenote: LORD E. FITZGERALD’S DEATH]

When the excellent Duchess set off full of hopes and anxiety, she was overtaken at Coleshill, after travelling night and day to reach Dublin as soon as possible. She bore the dreadful news with composure and resignation. Lord Henry is in such an agitated state, that he cannot yet see any of his family. His state of mind is violently affected by the shock of seeing his dying brother perishing by wanton cruelty. Upon his first application to see Ld. E. he was refused. On Saturday, the 2nd of June, Ld. E. was roused from sleep by an unusual noise under his window; upon enquiring he was told that the military were in the act of hanging a man just condemned by martial law. The man’s name was Clinch, a friend and adherent of his. The effect upon his nerves was immediate; he became raving mad, and a keeper from a madhouse was necessary to attend him. The next day, the surgeons declared that the symptoms of death were upon him.

The titled murderers, when they heard what had caused his approaching dissolution, began to relent, and acceded to the prayers of Ld. Henry. He was admitted with Ly. L. Conolly to see him; they found him almost expiring, but even at that moment anxious to do what he knew would be acceptable to the opinions of his mother and aunt. He entreated her to read him the service for the dying.[209]

Upon Ld. H.’s[210] arrival at Holyhead he wrote a violent, reproachful letter to Ld. Camden of such a nature that personal danger may be the effect; no answer has yet been returned, and Ld. C. is upon ye point of returning to England, so it remains to be seen whether another calamity will overtake ye unfortunate family of Fitzgerald.

Upon ye Land Tax Ld. H. spoke, and I hear very well: ye subject was dry.

The explosion has at length taken place in Ireland, civil war rages with all its fury; the insurgents daily gain adherents and strong posts.[211] Ld. Camden is recalled, and Ld. Cornwallis is to succeed him, but not to conciliate. On Monday the D. of Leinster made a motion, which was seconded by ye D. of Devonshire and others; Ld. H. spoke remarkably well. The division would have been larger if the Opposition Lords had been sent to in time. My friend Ld. Boringdon did as shabby a thing as was ever done. He spoke against ye Bill for sending out ye Militia, with much heat, and the very next day he voted as readily as if it had been his own measure. Ld. Carlisle did the same thing, but he is so hackneyed in shabbiness that one neither is surprised or angry. But in a young man it is a bad debut.

[Sidenote: THE PRINCE AND IRELAND]

_21st June,’98._--Yesterday H.R.H. came to dinner; all went off well. He was so desirous of being civil that he was here exactly at six; nobody hardly was arrived, and he seemed uneasy, fearful that knowing he was coming many might refuse, but by half-past seven our party was complete, except of Sheridan, who did not come till ten. Grey, Tierney, Whitbread, D. of Norfolk, Ld. Suffolk, Bessboro’, J. and W. Russell, D. of Leinster, Ld. R. Spencer, Mr. Erskine, Francis, Adam, and several others. After dinner ye Prince declared that he was willing to do everything that could serve the cause of Ireland, and that if after mature consideration and consultation with Mr. Fox, it was agreed that his going down to ye H. of Lords and making a motion would be serviceable, he almost pledged himself to do it. Grey said he applauded ye measure, and was of opinion that it would turn the scale of the wavering loyalty of the Irish, but at the same time that such a momentous step was discussing he thought it but honourable to apprise H.R.H. that the consequences might be to him of ye utmost importance, as it was probable attempts would be made to pass him by in ye succession. After much argument and debating a meeting was fixed for next Saturday, when ye whole will be finally settled. The D. of Norfolk was comical in his serious manner of entreating ye Prince to postpone all decision; ‘for,’ said he, ‘one is always betrayed into some imprudences after a bottle of wine.’ It occurred to everybody that he thought of his own toast which deprived him of his Ld.-Lieutenancy.

Ld. Suffolk[212] is ye strangest looking mortal; he had just come from a two hours’ audience of the King, who did not reply a word to any of his statements. He told ye King that the taking out of the Commons so many new peers degraded ye Commons, without adding dignity to ye Peers. The party broke up at 12, with very few more than a little gay. Sheridan and ye D. of Leinster supped, ye first having lost his dinner.

Ld. Lansdown passed some days here; he is, I fear, breaking quite up. His extraordinary son is still in Dublin, where his conversation has procured him three spies who watch every action of his life. Great as would be his eventual loss should Ireland by continuing the war waste the country or become independent, I am convinced he delights in the turmoil, because it furnishes events and matter for critical discussion.

When Grattan was taken up by mistake upon the arrestation of Mr. Lawless, he was carried to the D. of Portland’s office and before the Duke.[213] The meeting was humiliating on one side, as the conversation that ensued to explain away the mistake was the first communication that had arisen between them since the D.’s famous letter to Mr. Ponsonby and the free party in Ireland, assuring them that his principal reason for taking office (upon the breaking up of Fox’s party) was that he might put his system of conciliation in practice. There was a report that Grattan’s steward had been flogged into confession that his master was a United Irishman. Somebody expressed anxiety to Grattan about his returning, to which he replied, ‘I can have nothing to fear; I am not an opposer of all law; I do not countenance torture, flogging, free quarters, and military law.’

I have read since Xmas the D. of Marlbro’s _Apology_, Burnet’s _History_, ye _XIII. Satire of Juvenal_, Hearne’s _Travels into N. America_, Smith on ye figure and complexion of ye human species, Bancroft on dying, some desultory chemistry, _Roderick Random_, _Lazarillo de Tormes_, Leti’s _Life of Sixtus V._, various German and French plays, novels, and trash, Cook’s _Third Voyage_, Wolf’s _Ceylon_, part of Ulloa’s _Voyage_,[214] and some papers in ye memoirs of ye Exeter Society. Frequent dippings into Bayle, Montaigne, La Fontaine, Ariosto. Read ye three first books of Tasso; Ld. Orford’s works.

[Sidenote: DUCHESS OF MARLBOROUGH]

The Dss. of Marlborough’s vindication[215] is sure of being interesting from ye high and distinguished characters who figure in the piece--herself and sovereign. After reading her history one feels the propriety of placing her name first. She seems to have been a haughty, imperious dame, full of ambition and that love of power which she was determined to wrest by terror; for it appears that she disdained the meanness of intrigue, and when tottering in her favour submitted sooner to disgrace than owe her power to flattery. Her dominion over the mind of her mistress was that of an _esprit fort sur l’esprit faible_, for feeble indeed was our narrow-minded Anne.

There are stories in the Spencer family, which confirm all that her contemporaries said of the violence of her temper. She had uncommonly fine hair which her husband admired: in a fit of passion, upon his refusing her a request she made, she cut off her fine tresses and threw them in his face. One of her daughters offended her beyond her powers of pardoning; she immediately flew to a portrait of her which was near, and smeared over the features with black paint, saying, ‘Now her face is as black as her heart.’[216] Her grandson, the D. of M., ventured to differ from her in politics, owing, it was reported, to the influence of the first Ld. Holland, of whom she always used to say, ‘He is the Fox who stole my goose.’ There is a letter or two of hers preserved among the old correspondence of Ld. H. to him. The present Lord Spencer owes his fortune to an adroit joke of his ancestor Jack Spencer,[217] who recovered from her displeasure by jumping in at the window after she had foiled his entering her doors; for this she left him as much almost as she gave the D. of M. Her apology was written by Mallet or Fenton;[218] she paid him several thousands for the work.

* * * * *

_July 17._--Left Holland House to make a tour in the Highlands of Scotland. As I was with child and Charles had not been inoculated, the intended journey on the Continent was delayed. We arrived, on the 19th, at York, which little Marsh had reached before us. We went that evening to see the Cathedral, which is certainly both grand and spacious, but inferior to any Gothic buildings I have seen. It is scarcely as fine as Salisbury, and certainly not equal to that of Amiens. Those in Italy again are in a different taste; that at Pavia is, I believe, anterior to any we have in England. It is very ugly, and bears the rugged marks of tasteless cost and unskilful labour. York is one of the oldest cities in the island, and to a lover of Shakespeare all around it is classical ground. The remains of the walls, the city gates, and the ruins of an old nunnery near the river make it altogether a place rather worth seeing.

[Sidenote: CASTLE HOWARD]

On ye 20th we went with Marsh to see Castle Howard.[219] The road lies over bleak and dreary moors, which may have charms to a sportsman’s eye, but can afford nothing but wearisome disgust to the traveller. The _château_ is a magnificent pile, surrounded with the appropriate ornaments of woods and gardens, etc., but the sight of a country residence inspires me with gloom. I feel escaped from some misfortune when I get out of its precincts. The most conspicuous object by way of decoration from the windows and terraces of the mansion is the Mausoleum intended for the sepulchre of the family.

To my fancy I had as lief have my rooms hung round with death’s heads and cross-bones, as behold in moments of recreation that perpetual _mementi mori_ [_sic_], and I have always entered into the feelings that actuated Louis XIV. when he left St. Germains and built Versailles, because the pleasantest apartments looked towards St. Denis, the last resting-place of the Royal bones of ye Bourbons. I never could approve the necessity of inculcating an eternal view of death; we daily feel that it is inevitable from the frequent derangement of our fragile bodies, and as it neither makes us wiser or happier to be in expectation of the event and certainly embitters enjoyments, I disapprove of the system. The opposite extreme is ridiculous, and the great Empress of Russia showed her own littleness in forbidding mourning and the sight of funerals, especially as she was so prodigal of the lives of her subjects.

Almost all the principal apartments are decorated with a full-length portrait of the pompous possessor in the most stately attitudes, in robes of ye Peerage, Viceroyalty, and Knighthood, etc.; whereas his wife, who was one of the prettiest women of her time, is only once represented in a small picture, in which he, by-the-bye, is again the principal object. Not to be scandalous, I could not, however, help remarking the _recherche_ of French luxury in the apartments dedicated to the use of Ly. S., and called hers by name. We returned and dined at York, and proceeded from thence to Knaresborough, where we saw the Dripping Well, which is a small stream issuing from the side of a calcareous hill. The water, like that at Terni, incrusts whatever is exposed to its action with a calcareous texture around it, commonly called petrifaction.

We got at night to Ripon. The next day we went to Fountains Abbey, the sight of which highly gratified me. Nothing that I have seen in England bears any comparison to the pleasure I received from seeing it. The ruins are kept in such excellent preservation that in many points of view one might give in to the illusion of its being still tenanted by its venerable owners, and such is the superstitious awe inspired by monastic gloom that I almost wished it were possible to indulge in a serious mood. Old Jenkins, who lived and died in the neighbourhood of the Abbey, and whose life closed with the century at the age of one hundred and sixty-nine years, remembered the dissolution of the Abbey and spoke with emotion of the _élan_ it occasioned in the country. He remembered a hundred and thirty years before being sent to the Abbey to inquire how the Abbot was, and being ordered roast beef and wassel in a _Black Jack_.

Travellers are carried to see Studley, but to me the eight miles would have been tedious, as the beauties consist in _bold views_. Now to a person glowing with admiration for the Alpine views of Switzerland, Tyrol, etc., the insipid tinkling of a puny stream gurgling over a few large pebbles could afford but slender room for admiration; therefore I declined going. We intended going to Sunderland to see the iron bridge,[220] but as we overtook Ld. Lauderdale upon the road we decided upon pleasant conversation in preference to a curious sight, so we stopped at Newcastle.

[Sidenote: ALNWICK]

The next day, 22nd., we saw the once proud seat of the Percies. Alnwick, on the outside, revives the recollection of all one has heard of baronial splendour, battlements, towers, gateways, portcullis, etc., immense courts, thick walls, and everything demonstrative of savage, solitary, brutal power and magnitude. The late Duchess _built_ the present fabric upon the site of the primitive castle, but much is from traditional guess. The inside corresponds but feebly with the outward promise; the whole is fitted up in a tinsel, gingerbread taste, rather adapted to a theatrical representation than a permanent decoration. It must be an unpleasant residence, as comfort, nay, even common convenience is sacrificed to preserve the appearance of a fortress. At some distance upon the coast is seen the crestfallen towers of Warkworth, the usual residence of the Percies, and from whence Hotspur issued to return no more in his rebellion against the ungrateful monarch. It is in that castle Shakespeare lays his scene in the 2nd part of _Henry IV._, where Northumberland receives the tidings of Hotspur’s untimely end. One custom, probably descended from the earliest days of the glory of their house, is preserved at Alnwick. When the Duke is willing to receive the visits of the neighbouring gentry, a flag is hung upon the highest turret as a signal that he may be approached. How far the democratic spirit that so generally pervades all ranks submits to this aristocratical summons I know not.

On that night we slept at Berwick; the Tweed is wide and handsome. Its width is more properly derived from the waters of the sea than from its own mass of tributary streams. From thence to Edinburgh the road lies along an elevated coast; the view of the sea is very pleasing. The colour was blue, unlike the green and yellow streaks that disfigure the muddy channel. I was gratified at quitting ye uniform features, both of towns, villages, and country, that fatigue the eye in England; one enclosure is like another, and when you have seen a street lined with red-brick, three-windowed houses, you have seen the extent of their architecture and the summit of their taste.

We reached Edinburgh on ye 23rd of July, 1798; lodged at Dumbreck’s Hotel in the square. The singular contrast between the new and old town is very striking; the situation of the Castle upon a high rock, the sea views, etc., make the whole a delightful prospect. Holyrood House is at the bottom of the eminence upon which the habitable residences are now placed; the Royal apartments have been modestly fitted up for the reception of the poor, vagrant _Monsieur_,[221] who is not only compelled to seek an asylum in Great Britain, but is also necessitated to keep within the precincts of the palace, as his royalty is of no avail against his creditors. Report speaks well of his conduct. He is affable in his manners, and resigned to the rigour of his lot. In the upper apartments we were shown into those occupied by ye unfortunate Mary; two or three moderate rooms were all she had, such as a private gentlewoman in these days would be dissatisfied with.

Ld. Lauderdale joined us a few days after our arrival. From 23rd to 31st of July we remained in Edinburgh. Ld. L. and Mr. Henry Erskine[222] dined almost every day with us. The mornings we devoted to seeing the town, and generally drove upon the Leith sands. Lewis and Ld. Lorne,[223] Beddoes,[224] and some others I saw. Every morning we had a prodigious concourse of visitors, the _patriotic_ Scotchmen thinking it a due homage to Mr. Fox to wait upon his nephew.

[Sidenote: VOLNEY’S WORKS]

_Nov. 5th, 1798._--Bonaparte’s Egyptian campaign has brought every book of travels into those countries into requisition. I have again read with pleasure Volney’s account of Egypt and Syria. His work is the more interesting, as it is imagined that his information has been chiefly relied upon by the French, and that his observations serve as guides to the expedition. He finishes his account of Egypt with a wish that a revolution may take place there under the Govert. of a nation friendly to the fine arts, and expressly implies that such an event may not be so remote as we may possibly imagine. Ye Empress of Russia took the prediction to herself, and upon some slight pretext gave him a pension and an order, which he accepted and enjoyed. In the first years of the democratic fury of the Revolution in France he returned both, accompanied by an insolent letter.

The present speculations whether or not the French can maintain themselves in those countries are curious.[225] The Ministerial people assert the impracticability of their doing so, but their arguments are chiefly founded upon the resistance they will meet with from the Turkish army--a power that has hitherto been found ineffectual against the ill-disciplined squadrons of their own Beys. Sickness and ye want of wine and clothing are the chief obstacles to a permanent establishment, but I hope and almost believe the skill of Bonaparte will baffle even those inconveniences.

I have been shown under the strictest promise of secrecy copies of several of the private letters that were intercepted after ye engagement of the 1st of August.[226] There is only one from Bonaparte. It places that extraordinary man in a far more amiable point of view than I had seen him in before. It is to his brother,[227] to whom he appears to be most tenderly attached; he describes himself as disgusted with life and mankind, that at 29 he has exhausted the _attraits_ of ambition and glory, and that he has been deceived by those he trusted most in. He says, ‘Le voile est levé,’ and that his brother alone is left him to love, though he is unfortunate in being compelled to love a person ‘dans tous les cas.’ He desires him to get a small house in Burgundy, as his means are too slender for a large establishment, and that he hopes to be in Paris in two months, and that his ‘âme a besoin d’isolement.’

[Sidenote: INTERCEPTED LETTERS]

This letter would be unintelligible without the key of Beauharnais’ letter to his mother. After much affection, he says the General has been _triste_ for many days, but more so since an ‘entretien particulier avec Berthier.’ His melancholy proceeds from ‘chagrins domestiques,’ aggravated by stories told him by Berthier, who informed him that Mde. Bonaparte had brought ‘Charles’ (who is he?) in her carriage from Plombières to within three posts of Paris, and that she had gone ‘au quatrième aux Italiens’ with him, and various other little trifles amounting to ‘confirmation, strong as proofs in Holy Writ,’ to a jealous mind. In short, it appears that Berthier has acted Iago, and that the conqueror of Italy is as jealous as a Turk. The son-in-law [_sic_] adds that the only difference in B.’s behaviour towards him is a _redoublement_ of kindness if possible. These letters are not to be published; it perhaps would be as handsome if the Ministers sent them to their respective addresses.

_6th Nov., 1798._--Ld. H. has been laid up for 5 days by a very severe fit of the gout. It is a hard thing to suffer thus before five and twenty, and it is the more distressing as he lives at all times so reasonably that diet can do little for him in future. Strong exercise and frequent jaunts to a warm climate may mitigate future attacks.

General Fitzpatrick and Mr. Hare are staying with us a few days; we have had the ladies constantly during this last week. In point of society it is impossible to be better than ours--enough, and that of the best sort, and yet not too numerous.