Chapter XVIII: Part 18

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.]