Part 17 (1/2)
Lady Mary was, of course, entirely ignorant of Horace Walpole's feelings about her, of which naturally he showed no sign in social intercourse with her. ”I saw him often both at Florence and Genoa, and you may believe I know him,” she told her daughter. ”I was well acquainted with Mr. Walpole at Florence, and indeed he was particularly civil to me,”
she wrote on another occasion. ”I have great encouragement to ask favour of him, if I did not know that few people have so good memories to remember so many years backwards as have pa.s.sed since I have seen him.
If he has treated the character of Queen Elizabeth with disrespect [in _A Catalogue of the Royal and n.o.ble Authors of England_], all the women should tear him to pieces, for abusing the glory of their s.e.x. Neither is it just to put her in the list of authors, having never published anything, though we have Mr. Camden's authority that she wrote many valuable pieces, chiefly Greek translations. I wish all monarchs would bestow their leisure hours on such studies: perhaps they would not be very useful to mankind; but it may be a.s.serted, for a certain truth, their own minds could be more improved than by the amus.e.m.e.nts of quadrille or Cavagnole.”
Lady Mary need not have feared that Walpole had forgotten her; he bore her much in mind to his dying day, and found never a kind thing to say about her. It may be presumed that his animosity arose from the fact that Lady Mary had championed Molly Skerritt against his mother, when Miss Skerritt was living openly as the mistress of Sir Robert Walpole.
Yet, though he wrote so abusively about her, he concerned himself with a new edition of the _Court Poems_, though with what right has never transpired. ”I have lately had Lady Mary Wortley's Ecloques published; but they don't please, though so excessively good,” he wrote to Sir Horace Mann, November 24, 1747. ”I say so confidently, for Mr. Chute agrees with me: he says, for the _Epistle from Arthur Grey_, scarce any woman could have written it, and no man; for a man who had had experience enough to paint such sentiments so well, would not have had warmth enough left. Do you know anything of Lady Mary? Her adventurous son is come in Parliament, but has not opened.”
From Florence, Lady Mary repaired to Rome. There, she did not see the Chevalier de St. George, but she did see his two sons, Charles Edward, the Young Pretender, and Henry, Cardinal York. ”The eldest seems thoughtless enough, and is really not unlike Mr. Lyttelton in his shape and air,” she wrote to Montagu. ”The youngest is very well made, dances finely, and has an ingenuous countenance; he is but fourteen years of age. The family live very splendidly, yet pay everybody, and (wherever they get it) are certainly in no want of money.”
Lady Mary seems to have had no prepared itinerary, but to have wandered as the spirit moved her--Naples, Leghorn, Turin, Genoa. The cheapness of Italy appealed to her frugal mind.
”The manners of Italy are so much altered since we were here last, the alteration is scarce credible. They say it has been by the last war. The French, being masters, introduced all their customs, which were eagerly embraced by the ladies, and I believe will never be laid aside; yet the different governments make different manners in every state. You know, though the republic is not rich, here are many private families vastly so, and live at a great superfluous expense: all the people of the first quality keep coaches as fine as the Speaker's, and some of them two or three, though the streets are too narrow to use them in the town; but they take the air in them, and their chairs carry them to the gates. The liveries are all plain: gold or silver being forbidden to be worn within the walls, the habits are all obliged to be black, but they wear exceeding fine lace and linen; and in their country-houses, which are generally in the faubuurg, they dress very rich, and have extreme fine jewels. Here is nothing cheap but houses. A palace fit for a prince may be hired for fifty pounds per annum; I mean unfurnished. All games of chance are strictly prohibited, and it seems to me the only law they do not try to evade: they play at quadrille, piquet, &c., but not high.
Here are no regular public a.s.semblies. I have been visited by all of the first rank, and invited to several fine dinners, particularly to the wedding of one of the house of Spinola, where there were ninety-six sat down to table, and I think the entertainment one of the best I ever saw.
There was the night following a ball and supper for the same company, with the same profusion. They tell me that all their great marriages are kept in the same public manner. n.o.body keeps more than two horses, all their journeys being post; the expense of them, including the coachman, is (I am told) fifty pounds per annum. A chair is very near as much; I give eighteen francs a week for mine. The senators can converse with no strangers during the time of their magistracy, which lasts two years.
The number of servants is regulated, and almost every lady has the same, which is two footmen, a gentleman-usher, and a page, who follows her chair.
Certainly the simple life appealed to Lady Mary, but much as she liked Geneva the cost of living irked her. ”Everything is as dear as it is at London,” she complained to her husband in November, 1741. ”'Tis true, as all equipages are forbidden, that expense is entirely retrenched.... The way of living is absolutely the reverse of that in Italy. Here is no show, and a great deal of eating; there is all the magnificence imaginable, and no dinners but on particular occasions; yet the difference of the prices renders the total expense very near equal....
The people here are very well to be liked, and this little republic has an air of the simplicity of old Rome in its earliest age. The magistrates toil with their own hands, and their wives literally dress their dinners against their return from their little senate. Yet without dress and equipage 'tis as dear living here for a stranger, as in places where one is obliged to both, from the price of all sort of provision, which they are forced to buy from their neighbours, having almost no land of their own.” How much more agreeable, from Lady Mary's point of view, was Chambery: ”Here is the most profound peace and unbounded plenty that is to be found in any corner of the universe; but not one rag of money. For my part, I think it amounts to the same thing, whether one is obliged to give several pence for bread, or can have a great deal of bread for a penny, since the Savoyard n.o.bility here keep as good tables, without money, as those in London, who spend in a week what would be here a considerable yearly revenue. Wine, which is equal to the best burgundy, is sold for a penny a quart, and I have a cook for very small wages, that is capable of rivalling Chloe.”
”My girl gives me great prospect of satisfaction, but my young rogue of a son is the most ungovernable little rake that ever played truant,”
Lady Mary wrote to Lady Mar in July, 1727, when the boy was fourteen and the girl nine years old.
It has already been mentioned that young Edward, who was placed at Westminster School at the early age of five, ran away. In fact, he ran away more than once. ”My blessed offspring has already made a great noise in the world,” his mother told Lady Mar in July, 1726. ”That young rake, my son, took to his heels t'other day and transported his person to Oxford; being in his own opinion thoroughly qualified for the University. After a good deal of search we found and reduced him, much against his will, to the humble condition of a schoolboy. It happens very luckily that the sobriety and discretion is of my daughter's side; I am sorry the ugliness is so too, for my son grows extremely handsome.”
The lad was incorrigible. In the following year he disappeared for some months, to be found selling fish at Blackwall.
”My cousin is going to Paris, and I will not let her go without a letter for you, my dear sister, though I was never in a worse humour for writing” (the anxious mother wrote to her sister). ”I am vexed to the blood by my young rogue of a son; who has contrived at his age to make himself the talk of the whole nation. He is gone knight-erranting, G.o.d knows where; and hitherto 'tis impossible to find him. You may judge of my uneasiness by what your own would be if dear Lady f.a.n.n.y was lost.
Nothing that ever happened to me has troubled me so much; I can hardly speak or write of it with tolerable temper, and I own it has changed mine to that degree I have a mind to cross the water, to try what effect a new heaven and a new earth will have upon my spirit.”
Later, Edward ran away again, joining the crew of a s.h.i.+p going to Oporto, and was not discovered in that city until a considerable period had elapsed since his flight.
He capped all his follies by marrying at the age of twenty a woman of no social standing and much older than himself.
His parents were at their wits' end. It was hopeless to treat him as a rational being. His wife was induced to accept a pension to leave him, and he himself was put in charge of a keeper. Several times he had to be kept in close confinement. He was, however, by no means devoid of brains, and in the autumn of 1741 he had sufficiently recovered to be entered as a student at the University of Leyden. His allowance was 300 a year, which he found so insufficient for the indulgence of his tastes that he was soon considerably in debt.
In Lady Mary's correspondence there are many letters to her husband about their son.
”Genoa, Aug. 15, 1741.
”I am sorry to trouble you on so disagreeable a subject as our son, but I received a letter from him last post, in which he solicits your dissolving his marriage, as if it was wholly in your power, and the reason he gives for it, is so that he may marry more to your satisfaction. It is very vexatious (though no more than I expected) that time has no effect, and that it is impossible to convince him of his true situation. He enclosed this letter in one to Mr. Birtles, and tells me that he does not doubt that debt of 200 is paid. You may imagine this silly proceeding occasioned me a dun from Mr. Birtles. I told him the person that wrote the letter, was, to my knowledge, not worth a groat, which was all I thought proper to say on the subject.”
”Lyons, April 23, 1742.
”I am very glad you have been prevailed on to let our son take a commission: if you had prevented it, he would have always said, and perhaps thought, and persuaded other people, you had hindered his rising in the world; though I am fully persuaded that he can never make a tolerable figure in any station of life. When he was at Morins, on his first leaving France, I then tried to prevail with him to serve the Emperor as volunteer; and represented to him that a handsome behaviour one campaign might go a great way in retrieving his character; and offered to use my interest with you (which I said I did not doubt would succeed) to furnish him with a handsome equipage. He then answered, he supposed I wished him killed out of the way. I am afraid his pretended reformation is not very sincere. I wish time may prove me in the wrong.