328 letter 110 To Sir Horace Mann.

Houghton, June 20, 1743.

I have painted the Raphael to my lord almost as fine as Raphael himself could; but he will not think of it-. he will not give a thousand guineas for what he never saw. I wish I could persuade him. For the other hands, he has already fine ones of every one of them. There are yet no news of the Pembroke: we row impatient.

I have made a short tour to Euston this week with the Duke of Grafton, who came over from thence with Lord Lincoln and Mr.

Pelham. Lord Lovel and Mr. c.o.ke carried me and brought me back. It is one of the most admired seats in England-in my opinion, because Kent has a most absolute disposition of it.

Kent is now so fashionable, that, like Addison's Liberty, he

"Can make bleak rocks and barren mountains smile."

I believe the duke wishes he could make them green too. The house is large and bad; it was built by Lord Arlington, and stands, as all old houses do for convenience of water and shelter, in a hole; so it neither sees, nor is seen: he has no money to build another. The park is fine, the old woods excessively so: they are much grander than Mr. Kent's pa.s.sion clumps-that is, sticking a dozen trees here and there, till a lawn looks like the ten of spades. Clumps have their beauty; but in a great extent of country, how trifling to scatter arbours, where you should spread forests! He is so unhappy in his heir apparent,(832) that he checks his hand in almost every thing he undertakes. Last week he heard a new complaint of his barbarity. A tenant of Lord Euston, in Northamptonshire, brought him his rent: the Lord said it wanted three and sixpence: the tenant begged he would examine the account, that it would prove exact-however, to content him, he would willingly pay him the three and sixpence. Lord E. flew into a rage, and vowed he would write to the Duke to have him turned out of a little place he has in the post-office of thirty pounds a-year. The poor man, who has six children, and knew nothing of my lord's being upon no terms of power with his father, went home and shot himself!

I know no syllable of news '. but that my Lady Carteret is dead at Hanover, and Lord Wilmington dying. So there will be to let a first minister's ladyship and a first lordship of the Treasury. We have nothing from the army, though the King has now been there some time. As new a thing as it is, we don't talk much about it.

Adieu! the family are gone a fishing: I thought I stayed at home to write to you, but I have so little to say that I don't believe you will think so.

(832) George, Earl of Euston, who died in the lifetime of his father. He seems to have been a man of the most odious character. He has been already mentioned in the course of these letters, upon the occasion of his marriage with the ill-fated lady Dorothy Boyle, who died from his ill-treatment of her. Upon a picture of lady Dorothy at the Duke of Devonshire's at Chiswick, is the following touching inscription, written by her mother, which commemorates her virtues and her fate:-

"lady Dorothy Boyle, Born May the 14th, 1724.

She was the comfort and joy of her parents, the delight of all who knew her angelick of temper, and the admiration of all who saw her beauty. She was marry'd October the 10th, 1741, and delivered (by death) from misery, May the 2nd, 1742. This picture was drawn seven weeks after her death (from memory) by her most affectionate mother, Dorothy Burlington."-D.

329 letter 111 To Sir Horace Mann.

Friday noon, July 29, 1743.

I don't know what I write-I am all a flurry of thoughts-a battle-a victory! I dare not yet be glad-I know no particulars of my friends. This instant my lord has had a messenger from the Duke of Newcastle, who has sent him a copy of Lord Carteret's letter from the field of battle. The King was in all the heat of the fire, and safe--the Duke is wounded in the calf of the leg, but slightly; Duc d'Aremberg in the breast; General Clayton and Colonel Piers are the only officers of note said to be killed-here is all my trust! The French pa.s.sed the Mayne that morning with twenty-five thousand men, and are driven back. We have lost two thousand, and they four-several of their general officers, and of the Maison du Roi, are taken prisoners: the battle lasted from ten in the morning till four. The Hanoverians behaved admirably. The Imperialists(833) were the aggressors; in short, 'In all public views, it is all that could be wished-the King in the action, and his son wounded-the Hanoverians behaving well-the French beaten: what obloquy will not all this wipe out!

Triumph, and write it to Rome! I don't know what our numbers were; I believe about thirty thousand, for there were twelve thousand Hessians and Hanoverians who had not joined them. O!

in my hurry, I had forgot the place-you must talk of the battle of Dettingen!

After dinner. My child, I am calling together all my thoughts, and rejoice in this victory as much as I dare; for in the raptures of' conquest, how dare I think that my Lord Carteret, or the rest of those who have written, thought just of whom I thought? The post comes in tomorrow morning, but it is not sure that we shall learn any particular certainties so soon as that. Well! how happy it is that the King has had such an opportunity of distinguishing himself'!(834) what a figure he will make! They talked of its being below his dignity to command an auxiliary army: my lord says it will not be thought below his dignity to have sought dangers These were the flower of the French troops: I flatter myself they will tempt no more battles. such, and we might march from one end of France to the other. So we are in a French war, at least well begun! My lord has been drinking the healths of Lord Stair and Lord Carteret: he says, "since it was well done, he does not care by whom it was done." He thinks differently from the rest of the world: he thought from the first, that France never missed such an opportunity as when they undertook the German war, instead of joining with Spain against us. If I hear any more tomorrow before the post goes out, I will let you know. Tell me if this is the first you hear of the victory: I would fain be the first to give you so much pleasure.

Sat.u.r.day morning.

Well, my dear child, all is safe! I have not so much as an acquaintance hurt. The more we hear the greater it turns out.

Lord Cholmondeley writes my lord from London that we gained the victory with only fifteen regiments, not eleven thousand men, and SO not half in number to the French. I fancy their soldiery behaved ill, by the Gallantry of their officers; for Ranby, the King'S private surgeon, writes that he alone has 150 officers of distinction desperately wounded under his care. Marquis Fenelon's son is among the prisoners, and says Marshal Noailles is dangerously wounded; so is Duc d'Aremberg.

Honeywood's regiment sustained the attack, and are almost all killed: his natural son has five wounds, and cannot live. The horse were pursuing when the letters came away, so there is no certain account of the slaughter. Lord Albemarle had his horse shot under him. In short, the victory is complete.

There is no describing what one hears of the spirits and bravery of our men. One of them dressed himself up in the belts of three officers, and swore he would wear them as long as he lived. Another ran up to Lord Carteret, who was in a coach near the action the whole time, and said, "Here, my lord, do hold this watch for me; I have just killed a French officer and taken it, and I will go take another."

Adieu! my dear Sir: May the rest of the war be as glorious as the beginning!

(833) The Bavarians.

(834) Frederick the Great, in his "Histoire de mon Temps,"

gives the Following account of George the Second at the battle of Dettingen. "The King was on horseback, and rode forward to reconnoitre the enemy: his horse, frightened at the cannonading, ran away with his Majesty, and nearly carried him into the midst of the French lines: fortunately, one of his attendants succeeded in stopping him. George then abandoned his horse, and fought on foot, at the head of his Hanoverian battalions. With his sword drawn, and his body placed in the att.i.tude of a fencing-master, who is about to make a lunge in carte, he continued to expose himself, without Circling, to the enemy's fire."-D.

To Mr. Chute.

My dear Sir, I wish you joy, and you wish me joy, and Mr.

Whithed, and Mr. Mann, and Mrs. Bosville, etc. Don't get drunk and get the gout. I expect to be drunk with hogsheads of the Mayne-water, and with odes to his Majesty and the Duke, and Te Deums. Patapan begs you will get him a dispensation from Rome to go and hear the thanksgiving at St. Paul's. We are all mad-drums, trumpets, b.u.mpers, bonfires! The mob are wild, and cry, "Long live King George and the Duke of c.u.mberland, and Lord Stair and Lord Carteret, and General Clayton that's dead!" My Lord Lovel says, "Thanks to the G.o.ds that John(835) has done his duty!"

Adieu! my dear Dukes of Marlborough! I am ever your JOHN DUKE OF MARLBOROUGh.

(835) John Bull.-D.

331 Letter 112 To Sir Horace Mann.

Houghton, July 4, 1743.

I hear no particular news here, and I don't pretend to send you the common news; for as I must have it first from London, you will have it from thence sooner in the papers than in my letters. There have been great rejoicings for the victory; which I am convinced is very considerable by the pains the Jacobites take to persuade it is not. My Lord Carteret's Hanoverian articles have much offended; his express has been burlesqued a thousand ways. By all the letters that arrive, the loss of the French turns out more considerable than by the first accounts: they have dressed up the battle into a victory for themselves-I hope they will always have such! By their not having declared war with us, one should think they intended a peace. It is allowed that our fine horse did us no honour - the victory was gained by the foot. Two of their princes of the blood, the Prince de Dombes, and the Count d'Eu(836) his brother, were wounded, and several of their first n.o.bility.

Our prisoners turn out but seventy-two officers, besides the private men; and by the printed catalogue, I don't think of great family. Marshal Noailles's mortal wound is quite vanished, and Duc d'Aremberg's shrunk to a very slight one.

The King's glory remains in its first bloom.

Lord Wilmington is dead. I believe the civil battle for his post will be tough. Now we shall see what service Lord Carteret's Hanoverians will do him. You don't think the crisis unlucky for him, do you? If you wanted a treasury, should you choose to have been in Arlington Street,(837) or driving by the battle of Dettingen? You may imagine our Court wishes for Mr. Pelham. I don't know any one who wishes for Lord Bath but himself-I believe that is a pretty substantial wish.

I have got the Life of King Theodore, but I don't know how to convey it--I will inquire for some way.

We are quite alone. You never saw any thing so unlike as being here five months out of place, to the congresses of a fortnight in place. but you know the "Justum et tenacem propositi virum" can amuse himself without the "Civium ardor!"

As I have not so much dignity of character to fill up my time, I could like a little more company. With all this leisure, you may imagine that I might as well be writing an ode or so upon the victory; but as I cannot build upon the Laureate's place till I know whether Lord Carteret or Mr. Pelham will carry the Treasury, I have vounded my compliments to a slender collection of quotations against I should have any occasion for them. Here are some fine lines from Lord Halifax's (838) poem on the battle of the Boyne-

"The King leads on, the King does all inflame, The King!-and carries millions in the name."

Then follows a simile about a deluge, which you may imagine, but the next lines are very good -

"So on the foe the firm battalions prest, And he, like the tenth wave, drove on the rest.

Fierce, gallant, young, he shot through every place, Urging their flight, and hurrying on the chase, He hung upon their rear, or lighten'd in their face."

The next are a magnificent compliment, and, as far as verse goes, to be sure very applicable.

"Stop, stop! brave Prince, allay that inner flame; Enough is given to England and to fame.

Remember, Sir, you in the centre stand; Europe's divided interests you command, All their designs uniting in your hand.

Down from your throne descends the golden chain Which does the fabric of our world sustain, That once dissolved by any fatal stroke, The scheme of all our happiness is broke."

Adieu! my dear Sir: pray for peace!

(836) The two sons of the Duke du Maine, a natural son, but legitimated, of Lewis the Fourteenth, by Madame de Montespan.-E.

(837) Where Mr. Pelham lived.

(838) Charles Montagu, Earl of Halifax, the "Bufo" of Pope

"Proud as Apollo, on his forked hill Sate full-blown Bufo, I)uff'd by every quill; Fed with soft dedication all day long, Horace and he went hand in hand in song."-E.