Private Letters of Edward Gibbon (1753-1794) Volume 2 (of 2)

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 recd. 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.

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.

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 intelligence313 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.*

621.

To Lord Sheffield

Lausanne, May, 1793.

*My dear Friend,

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 Chevalier314 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.

622.

To his Stepmother

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

Dear Madam,

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 commission315 (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.

624.

To Lord Sheffield

Frankfort, May 19th, 1793.

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.*

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,

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 affectionateD. 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.

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 woman318 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.

631.

To his Stepmother

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

Dear Madam,

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 amEver yours,E. G.