ALEXANDER JOHN BALL.

23d February 1799.

Letters

FROM THE

EARL OF BRISTOL,

_Bishop of Derry, in Ireland_,

TO

LADY HAMILTON.

Letters OF THE EARL OF BRISTOL, _Bishop of Derry, &c_.

I.

Naples, Sunday Morning, [1795.]

I return you the inclosed, my Dearest Emma, which does equal honour to the excellent head and heart of the writer. I shall begin, for the first time of my life, to have a good opinion of myself, after such honourable testimonials.

In the mean time, I send you an extraordinary piece of news, just written me from Ratisbon--a courier from the Elector of Mentz, desiring _the Empire_ to make a separate peace with France.

Couriers have been sent from the Diet to Sweden and Denmark, desiring their mediation: "and it is clear," says my letter, "_Somebody_ is at the bottom of all this; the Elector of Mentz only lends his name."

The suburbs of Warsaw taken; the capitulation of the city daily expected.

The King of Prussia totally retired beyond Potsdam, and supposed to be at the eve of madness.

Oh! Emma, who'd ever be wise, If madness be loving of thee.

B.

II.

Munich, 14th July 1795.

Dearest Emma,

Here is great news from England. My letters of the 26th June a.s.sure me, seven thousand men are embarked for St. Pol de Leon, together with an immense number of emigres--that, the week before, a bishop, and sixty priests, were most prosperously landed at the same place, and received with the greatest acclamations--that six sail of the line from Russia, were in sight, and the pilots gone to conduct them--that, in Amsterdam, and other towns of Holland, there is the greatest insurrections in favour of that fool the Stadtholder. All this, however, can only tend to facilitate peace, but not at all to restore that despicable, odious family of Bourbons--the head of which is now at _Verona_, where we left him eating _two capons_ a day; ('tis a pity the whole family are not _capons_!) and, what is more, dressing them himself in a superb kitchen--the true chapel of a Bourbon Prince.

Emma! if that dear Queen of Naples does not write, herself, to Prince D'Oria, for me, I won't look at your beautiful face these six months--"_coute qui coute_."

To-morrow, for _Pyrmont_, near Hanover. Emma--adieu!

III.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * There is no doubt but Don Luizi is implicated: that very circ.u.mstance, argues the extent of the mischief; for so cautious a man, and one whose sentiments are so publicly known, would not engage without good support.

I have conversed with one of his intimates--one "who is no stranger to his dearest secret." The evidence will be difficult; perhaps, impracticable: unless his most confidential friends can be gained; and that, I deem, impossible.

But the character of the Garrison at Capua is of the most alarming complexion; and, yet, is what I can best depend on. I think, _Wade_ could tell much, if he would speak out.

Adieu!

Lovel and I were on Vesuvius. He goes, like a true parson, only to eat the better. I foresee, he will once more fall into _Nudi's_ hands.

Procyta will be another _Duo_; for I hate large parties on such, and especially females--unless they be Phoenixes, like yourself.

It is a great discouragement to a Caserta party, to view the whole town buried in a mist; and the Belvidere alone, like a buoy, to point out the shoal.

Sweet Emma--adieu!

Every wish of my heart beats for the dear Queen.

IV.

Send me word, Dearest Emma! how the invaluable, adorable Queen, finds herself.

The weather changed so unmercifully, yesterday, that Lovel and I both grew ill; and this makes me the more anxious to hear of our too sensible and inestimable Queen. My warmest wishes--physical, political, and moral--ever attend her.

B.