on Parliament, you cannot justly expect him to be very punctual at first, till he is got en train: however, I am sure his heart will not let him be remiss.* Adieu! LETTER CCXCV. Arlington Street, Dec. 18, 1778. Having so many lonely vacant hours (if pain leaves vacancy,) I should seem unpardonable in having left such a chasm in our correspondence, when I know you are extremely impatient for news. Solitary hours, to be sure, I have had innumerable, even in my best intervals; for fashion has pushed the day so far into the night, that I have been forced to conform my sick regularity a little to the watches of the town, and dine later than I choose, or dine in public; for nobody will make me a morning's visit before two in the afternoon, nor leave me to go home to dress for dinner before four. They come not again till eight or nine at night when they would keep me out of bed till twelve, if I would let them. But I have had more grievous reasons for not writing; though free from pain for this week, I have not yet at all recovered the use of my right hand. But I have had a more serious and more dangerous complaint, and the consequence of my gout; such a weakness in my breast, that an inflammation on it was apprehended, and I was absolutely forbidden to see company, or even speak, which I must do to dictate. This codicil to my gout, I confess, was owing to this my second childhood; in short, my spirits ran away with me, and I talked without ceasing. Even a child is cunning enough to make excuses: mine was, that I could have gone about the town for three days without speaking three words, for I might not have met with three persons to whom I wished to speak; but in my own room, where I see nobody but those I choose to see, and many friends whom I had not seen for six months, one must have the continent tongue of Lord Abercorn to be silent. Well! I am recovered of that danger, and am recovering of all the rest; and you shall hear no more of me, who am not politics, which are what you want to know. Of them I know not what to write. The Parliament is unshaken, though it has had rough concussions. The rash proclamation in America alarmed much, and I fear will have bitter consequences: but all is swallowed up by the new court-martial on Admiral Keppel; as rash an act in its kind, and the deed, it is said, of that black man, Sir Hugh Palliser alone.§ Its consequences may be many, various, *Sir Horace Mann the younger was member for Maidstone.-Ed. The court-martial was ordered for the 7th of January. On receiving the notice, Admiral Keppel repaired to the House of Commons, where Mr. Temple and fatal; but I neither love to foresee, nor to spread misfortunes of my country, when my letter must pass through the ordeal of as many hostile post-houses as formerly galant ladies passed over burning plough-shares. Let us talk rather of galant ladies-but no, I hate scandal; and, besides, our greatest dames are no longer galant, but errant street-walkers, and I have never promised to send you the register of Doctors' Commons: our news-writers are the proper secretaries of that tribunal, and can scarcely outstrip the truth. What I have long apprehended is on the point of conclusion, the sale of the pictures at Houghton: the mad master has sent his final demand of forty-five thousand pounds for them to the Empress of Russia, at the same time that he has been what he calls improving the outside of the house; basta! Thus end all my visions about Houghton, which I never will see, though I must go thither at last; nor, if I can help it, think of more. Your old acquaintance, Mr. Worseley,* is dead, and in a shocking way to us moderns, though à la Romaine: he had such dreadful internal complaints, that he determined to starve himself, and for the four last days tasted exactly nothing. My newly recovered voice will not permit me to dictate: your nephew and the newspaper can tell you as much more as I could. If I have any judgment, which I doubt, the tragedy is coming rather to the fifth act than to the conclusion. Hitherto the drama has been carried on by relation, or-behind the scenes; now the dénoument may be on the stage. Adieu! I am quite tired. Luttrell moved an address to the King, praying him to order a court-martial on Sir Hugh Palliser. Upon this, Sir Hugh rose, and with much acrimony attacked the Admiral's conduct; who, in answer, professed his readiness to meet inquiry. "Thank God," he said, "I am not the accuser, but the accused. I was called to serve my country at a very critical period; I have performed my duty to the best of my abilities, and whatever the issue may be, I have one consolation, that I have acted strictly to the best of my judgment." He was greeted with the loudest applause, and retired from the House, accompanied by a large body of the members. In consequence of Admiral Keppel's bad state of health, a bill was brought in to allow the court-martial to be held on shore. It passed the Commons without opposition, but was opposed in the Lords by Lord Thurlow, on the plea that the Admiral's bad state of health had not been proved. Upon which, the Marquis of Rockingham observed, "that he had seen him the other evening leave the House of Commons, with a glory of conscious innocence around his head: no person could have quitted it with more seeming celerity, strength, dignity, and manly vigour; yet he dined with him the same evening, and such was the strange precariousness and vicissitude of his spirits, though only an hour elapsed since he saw him leave the House of Commons, that he took half an hour to get up from the ground-floor to the dining-room, being in the interim afflicted with the severest pains from cramp in both his legs." See the very able and interesting "Life of Viscount Keppel," by the Hon. and Rev. Thomas Keppel, vol. ii. p. 83.-ED. * James Worseley, Master of the Board of Works. VOL II.-8 LETTER CCXCVI. Strawberry Hill, Jan. 5, 1779. OLD Women-our only remaining prophets, except the Opposition and a little common sense,-prognosticate great woes for the coming year, from the omens of its first day. A tempest at the instant of the new year made terrible havoc of tiles, chimneys, and trees; and at night great part of Greenwich Hospital was burnt. I doubt casualties will not be the sole completion of the augury. There is actu ally great apprehension for Jamaica, or, at least, some of the West Indian Islands. I believe there are no eggs laid for achievements on our side, but some for discontent. The trial of Admiral Keppel is most unpopular, especially with his own profession. Lord Hawke and eleven other Admirals have presented to the King a remonstrance against the precedent, on the lateness of the complaint, on the impropriety of it as subjecting Commanders-in-chief to the uncertainty of opinion, and on the precipitation of the Admiralty in ordering the trial. A draught of the Remonstrance was shown to Mr. Keppel himself; he tore it, and desired it might not be presented. This did him great honour, but did not prevent the delivery.* I should think the Parliament would meet again in cloudy weather, though they may vote it is fair. I came hither on New Year's Day to try change of weather, as I mend very slowly, or not at all. In truth, I expect but little melioration. My natural weakness, with so many attacks, so much gout in my constitution, and sixty one-no elastic age, make me conclude that I shall not pass much of my remaining time out of my own houses. It is a doom I shall not struggle with: I have no idea of forcing a helpless skeleton upon other people, nor can see myself but what I am. It seems strange to me that so many decrepit cardinals should have accepted the tiara, when they were as likely to be buried as crowned. I shall carry this letter to town with me to-morrow, and add any news, if I hear any, before Friday. I might, from the little I had to say, have waited till the Parliament met next week; but it seems as if I had not written to you for some time. Your nephew, I conclude, is out of town, for I have seen him but the once I told But I am still more impatient to hear from you again, as your last left you with remains of fever. I know you are not rash, and know how to manage yourself in fevers; but you have not good Dr. Cocchi to watch you, and I have no opinion of Italian Galens. I think, too, that there was low-spirited accent in your style, but trust * The conduct of the Admiralty in appointing the court-martial gave the highest disgust to all ranks in the navy. Twelve British Admirals, at the head of whom was Keppel's old commander, the veteran Hawke, drew up a memorial, which was presented to the King by the Duke of Bolton.-ED. it was the effect of the times. I impute to that habit an expression, which though the effusion of your friendship and tenderness for me, I must reclaim against. You say, you love and adore me. Jesus! my dear sir! What an object of adoration! You put me in mind of what I have read in some traveller, who, viewing some Indian temple that blazed with gold and jewels, was at last introduced into the sanctum sanctorum, where behind the veil sat the object of worship-an old baboon! and, perhaps, poor pug's inside, as well as out, was fairer than mine. 8th. I have no news to add: all eyes are now on Portsmouth, where the trial began yesterday. Prudence is not gone thither, nor had any hand in the business: but she has been out of fashion for some time; and her mimic, Cunning, does not act her part with success. Adieu ! LETTER CCXCVII. Jan. 29, 1779. SUSPENSE Still! The court martial continues, and every thing respectfully awaits its determination: even France and America seem to lie upon their oars till the oracle at Portsmouth has pronounced.* The response, however, is not likely to be ambiguous. There has been such juggling to warp the judgment of the priests of Neptune; and the frauds have been so openly detected, and salt water Flamens are so boisterous when they can see through an imposition; that Palliser and his accomplices, high and low, will probably rue the tempest they have brewed. I hinted in my last that there is a man,t whom you once knew well, that prefers cunning to prudence: he will not exult in the choice he has made. The Duke of Marlborough and Lord Pembroke declare against the First Lord of the Admiralty; the second is expected to be less out of humour with the Court-martial than with being denied the Mastership of the Horse; but, when a tide turns, it sweeps many along with it. I will say no more of politics; the horizon does not clear-but I have no events to tell you. write only to amuse your impatience. Garrick is dead; not a public loss, for he had quitted the stage. I * Gibbon, writing at this time to Mr. Holroyd, says, "Portsmouth is no longer an object of speculation. The whole stream of all men and all parties runs one way. Sir Hugh is disgraced, ruined, &c. In a night or two we shall be in a blaze of illumination, from the zeal of naval heroes, land patriots, and tallow-chandlers; the last are not the least sincere."-ED. † Lord Sandwich, First Lord of the Admiralty. David Garrick died on the 20th of January, at his house on the Adelphi Terrace, in the sixty-third year of his age. His widow survived him forty-three years, and died in 1822, in her ninety-ninth year. Dr. Johnson pays the following high He is to be buried on Monday in great ceremony in Westminster Abbey but not having been so attentive to worldly riches as Lord Chatham, his family will not be provided for by Parliament. They had both great merit in their different walks, and were both good actors; but we are Athenians enough to be full as fond of the stage as of the State. Both, at present, are a little in want of a genius. There is a report that the poor simple Lord Maynardt has shot himself at Naples-is it true? The Duke of Dorset is almost in as bad a scrape as if he had married Lady Maynard. He is waiting for a Duchess till Lady Derbyt is divorced. He would not marry her before Lord Derby did, and now is forced to take her, when he himself has made her a very bad match. A quarter of our Peeresses will have been wives of half our living Peers. You must be content with these brief letters, while I write for your satisfaction rather than for your information. I am recovered enough to go to a few places; but I do not, nor can expect to mend so fast as when younger. tribute to the memory of the great actor, in the concluding passage of his Life of Edmund Smith, the Poet: "At this man's table I enjoyed many cheerful and instructive hours, with companions such as are not often found; with one who has lengthened, and one who has gladdened life; with Dr. James, whose skill in physic will be long remembered, and with David Garrick, whom I hoped to have gratified with this character of our common friend; but what are the hopes of man! I am disappointed by this stroke of death, which has eclipsed the gaiety of nations, and impoverished the public stock of harmless pleasures."-ED. *Hannah More, in a letter to her sister, gives the following striking account of Garrick's interment: "The bell of St. Martin's and the Abbey gave a sound that smote upon my very soul. We were put into a little gallery directly over the grave, where we could see and hear every thing as distinctly as if the Abbey had been a parlour. We were no sooner recovered from the first burst of grief, than I cast my eyes, the first thing on Handel's monument and read the scroll in his hand, I know that my Redeemer liveth.' Just at three the great doors burst open with a noise that shook the roof; the organ struck up, and the whole choir, in strains only less solemn than the archangel's trump,' began Handel's fine anthem. The whole choir advanced to the grave, in hoods and surplices, singing all the way; then Sheridan, as chief mourner; then the body, (alas! whose body?) with ten noblemen and gentlemen pall-bearers; then the rest of the friends and mourners; hardly a dry eye-the very players, bred to the trade of counterfeiting, shed genuine tears. As soon as the body was let down, the Bishop began the service, which he read in a low, but solemn and devout manner. Such an awful stillness reigned, that every word was audible. How I felt it! Judge if my heart did not assent to the wish, that the soul of our dear brother now departed was in peace. And this is all of Garrick! Yet a little while and he shall say to the worm, Thou art my brother;' and to corruption, Thou art my mother and my sister.' So passes away the fashion of this world."-Life, vol. i. p. 157.—ED. He had married the well-known Nancy Parsons, who had been kept by the Dukes of Grafton, Dorset, &c. ; but it was not true that he had killed himself. Lady Elizabeth Hamilton. The divorce did not take place. |