Lady Mary Wortley Montague - Lewis Melville
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"An old priest made me a visit as I was folding my last packet to my
daughter. Observing it to be large, he told me I had done a great deal of
business that morning. I made answer, I had done no business at all; I
had only wrote to my daughter on family affairs, or such trifles as make
up women's conversation. He said gravely, people like your Excellenza
do not use to write long letters upon trifles. I assured him, that if he
understood English, I would let him read my letter. He replied, with a
mysterious smile, if I did understand English, I should not understand
what you have written, except you would give me the key, which I durst
not presume to ask. What key? (said I, staring) there is not one cypher
besides the date. He answered, cyphers were only used by novices in
politics, and it was very easy to write intelligibly, under feigned
names of persons and places, to a correspondent, in such a manner as
should be almost impossible to be understood by anybody else.
"Thus I suppose my innocent epistles are severely scrutinized; and when
I talk of my grandchildren, they are fancied to represent all the
potentates of Europe. This is very provoking. I confess there are good
reasons for extraordinary caution at this juncture; but 'tis very hard I
cannot pass for being as insignificant as I really am."
Lady Mary clearly was happy in Italy, and did not in the least hanker
after the delights of London society, which in her earlier days she had
so much enjoyed.
"By the account you give me of London, I think it very much reformed; at
least you have one sin the less, and it was a very reigning one in my
time, I mean scandal: it must be literally reduced to a whisper, since
the custom of living all together. I hope it has also banished the
fashion of talking all at once, which was very prevailing when I was in
town, and may perhaps contribute to brotherly love and unity, which was
so much declined in my memory, that it was hard to invite six people
that would not, by cold looks, or piquing reflections affront one
another. I suppose parties are at an end, though I fear it is the
consequence of the old almanac prophecy, "Poverty brings peace"; and I
fancy you really follow the French mode, and the lady keeps an assembly,
that the assembly may keep the lady, and card money pay for clothes and
equipage as well as cards and candles. I find I should be as solitary in
London as I am here in the country, it being impossible for me to submit
to live in a _drum_, which I think so far from a cure of uneasiness,
that it is, in my opinion, adding one more to the heap. There are so
many attached to humanity, 'tis impossible to fly from them all; but
experience has confirmed to me what I always thought, that the pursuit
of pleasure will be ever attended with pain, and the study of ease be
most certainly accompanied with pleasures. I have had this morning as
much delight in a walk in the sun as ever I felt formerly in the crowded
Mall, even when I imagined I had my share of the admiration of the place,
which was generally soured before I slept by the informations of my
female friends, who seldom failed to tell me, it was observed, I had
showed an inch above my shoe-heels, or some other criticism of equal
weight, which was construed affectation, and utterly destroyed all the
satisfaction my vanity had given me. I have now no other but in my little
houswifery, which is easily gratified in this country, where, by the help
of my receipt-book, I make a very shining figure among my neighbours, by
the introduction of custards, cheesecakes, and minced pies, which were
entirely unknown to these parts, and are received with universal
applause; and I have reason to believe will preserve my memory even to
future ages, particularly by the art of butter-making, in which I have
so improved them, that they now make as good as in any part of England."
Lady Mary made the acquaintance in 1758 of Sir James Steuart,[20] and
his wife, Lady Frances, the eldest daughter of the Earl of Wemyss and
sister of the Jacobite Lord Elcho. Steuart, when making the grand
tour, had met the exiled Stuarts at Rome, and had become attached to
their cause. When the Young Pretender landed in Scotland in 1745,
Steuart threw in his lot with him. On his master's business he went to
Paris, and was abroad when Culloden was fought. When an Act of Oblivion
was passed in 1748 he was exempted by name, and, therefore, his return
was at the time impossible. He and his wife wandered about the
Continent, and it was at Venice that they encountered Lady Mary, who was
delighted with them. "I was charmed to find a man of uncommon sense and
learning, and a lady that without beauty is more admirable than the
fairest of her sex," she wrote enthusiastically to her daughter. "I
offered them all the little good offices in my power, and invited them
to supper; upon which our wise Minister[21] has discovered that I am in
the interest of popery and slavery. As he has often said the same thing
of Mr. Pitt, it would give me no mortification, if I did not apprehend
that his fertile imagination may support this wise idea by such
circumstances as may influence those that do not know me. It is very
remarkable that after having suffered all the rage of that party at
Avignon for my attachment to the present reigning family, I should be
accused here of favouring rebellion, when I hoped all our odious
diversions were forgotten."
[Footnote 20: Sir James Steuart (1712-1780), in 1773, on inheriting an
estate from a relative, took the additional surname of Denham. He was
the author of works on currency and political economy.]
[Footnote 21: The British Resident at Venice at this time was John
Murray]
Lady Mary was anxious that nothing she did should reflect upon her
daughter or in any way affect Lord Bute. "I am afraid you may think
some imprudent behaviour of mine has occasioned all this ridiculous
persecution [by the Resident]" she wrote to them in May, 1758. "I can
assure you I have always treated him and his family with the utmost
civility, and am now retired to Padua, to avoid the comments that will
certainly be made on his extraordinary conduct towards me. I only desire
privacy and quiet, and am very well contented to be without visits,
which oftener disturb than amuse me. My single concern is the design he
has formed of securing (as he calls it) my effects immediately on my
decease; if they ever fall into his hands, I am persuaded they will
never arrive entire into yours, which is a very uneasy thought to me."
Although not primarily interested in politics, Lady Mary had met so many
politicians that she was naturally eager to hear what was going on, and
the fact that her son-in-law, Lord Bute, was active in that department
of life made her follow ministerial events in England so closely as
possible. "I stay here, though I am on many accounts better pleased with
Padua," she wrote to her daughter from Venice, January 20, 1758. "Our
great minister, the Resident, treats me as one of the Opposition. I am
inclined to laugh rather than be displeased at his political airs; yet,
as I am among strangers they are disagreeable; and, could I have
foreseen them, would have settled in some other part of the world: but I
have taken leases of my houses, been at much pains and expense in
furnishing them, and am no longer of an age to make long journeys."
Pitt's Coalition Ministry, formed in June, 1757, in which Pitt and Lord
Holdernesse were Secretaries of State, the Duke of Newcastle First Lord
of the Treasury, Legge Chancellor of the Exchequer, and Lord Granville,
Lord Temple, Sir Robert Henley, the Duke of Devonshire, the Duke of
Bedford, and Henry Fox held office, moved Lady Mary to merriment.
"Your account of the changes in ministerial affairs do not surprise me;
but nothing could be more astonishing than their all coming together"
(she wrote to Lady Bute). "It puts me in mind of a friend of mine who
had a large family of favourite animals; and not knowing how to convey
them to his country-house in separate equipages, he ordered a Dutch
mastiff, a cat and her kittens, a monkey, and a parrot, all to be packed
up together in one large hamper, and sent by a waggon. One may easily
guess how this set of company made their journey; and I have never been
able to think of the present compound ministry without the idea of
barking, scratching, and screaming. 'Tis too ridiculous a one, I own,
for the gravity of their characters, and still more for the situation the
kingdom is in; for as much as one may encourage the love of laughter,
'tis impossible to be indifferent to the welfare of one's native
country."
The Resident was, so far as Lady Mary was concerned, an ill-conditioned
fellow. She asked him once or twice for the English papers, but the
reply made, with intention, on each occasion was that they were engaged.
"Since the Ministry of Mr. Pitt," she remarked, "he is so desirous to
signalise his zeal for the contrary faction, he is perpetually saying
ridiculous things, to manifest his attachment; and as he looks upon me
(nobody knows why) to be the friend of a man I never saw, he has not
visited me once this winter. The misfortune is not great." Lady Mary was
amused at being mistaken for a politician. "I have often been so, though
I ever thought politics so far removed from my sphere. I cannot accuse
myself of dabbling in them, even when I heard them talked over in all
companies; but, as the old song says,
'Tho' through the wide world we should range,
'Tis in vain from our fortune to fly.'"
Lady Mary always cherished affection and respect for her son-in-law,
Lord Bute. He had been since 1747 a favourite with Frederick, Prince of
Wales, who in 1750 appointed him a Lord of his Bedchamber. When
Frederick died in the following year Bute had established his popularity
with the Princess, who, in 1756, secured his appointment as Groom of the
Stole. "I have something to mention that I believe will be agreeable to
you," Edward Wortley Montagu wrote to his wife at this time; "I mean
some particulars relating to Lord Bute. He stood higher in the Prince of
Wales's favour than any man. His attendance was frequent at Leicester
House, where this young Prince has resided, and since his father's death
has continued without intermission, till new officers were to be placed
under him. It is said that another person was to be Groom of the Stole,
but that the Prince's earnest request was complied with in my Lord's
favour. It is supposed that the governors, preceptors, etc., who were
about him before will now be set aside, and that my Lord is now the
principal adviser." Neither Montagu nor his wife in their published
correspondence make any allusion to the scandal current about the
intimate relations of the Princess and Lord Bute, though it was so
widely spread it is almost impossible it should not have come to the
ears of one or other of them.
On the accession of George III Bute was sworn a member of the Privy
Council, and in November, 1760, appointed Groom of the Stole and First
Gentleman of the Bedchamber. His influence with the young King was
paramount. "I pity Lady Bute," Walpole wrote to Sir Horace Mann on
January 27, 1761, "her mother will sell to whoever does not know her,
all kinds of promises and reversions, bestow lies gratis and wholesale,
and make so much mischief, that they will be forced to discard her in
three months, which will go to Lady Bute's heart, who is one of the best
and most sensible women in the world; and who, educated by such a
mother, has never made a false step." As a matter of fact, the only
request known to be made by Lady Mary was to ask Lord Bute, through her
daughter, to take care that Sir James Steuart's name was not excluded in
the Act of Indemnity. It is, however, true that there is the following
statement in the Diaries of the Right Hon. William Windham, under the
date of November 25, 1772, which is given here for what it is worth.
"Mr. Montagu told me this evening about Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, that
at her death, 'A note of his was found among her papers for one thousand
guineas,' which had been given her by a gentleman of Ireland as the
premium for some honours to be received through her interest. The
honours stipulated for were not obtained before her death, and the
gentleman upon representation of the story to the family recovered the
note which she had deposited by agreement in a particular drawer shewn
to him. It may reasonably be supposed that this was not the first
instance of her accepting money on those conditions, and that much of
Lord Bute's interest has been employed in her service."
As Lady Mary advanced in the sixties of her life, she looked upon the
world with the eyes of a vast experience, and found it more sad than she
had thought it in youth or middle age. _Vanitas vanitatum_ was the text
of many a homily that she delivered, and a certain sadness replaced the
sense of malice that had once possessed her. Once more than aggressive,
now she had had bestowed upon her in some degree that gift of
understanding that engenders sympathy. As she grew older she grew more
wise, and was anxious to impart her wisdom, especially to her daughter,
for her benefit or for that of her daughter's children.
"How important is the charge of youth! and how useless all the
advantages of nature and fortune without a well-turned mind! I have
lately heard of a very shining instance of this truth, from two
gentlemen (very deserving ones they seem to be) who have had the
curiosity to travel into Moscovy, and now return to England with Mr.
Archer. I inquired after my old acquaintance Sir Charles [Hanbury]
Williams, who I hear is much broken, both in spirits and constitution.
How happy that man might have been, if there had been added to his
natural and acquired endowments a dash of morality! If he had known how
to distinguish between false and true felicity; and, instead of seeking
to increase an estate already too large, and hunting after pleasures
that have made him rotten and ridiculous, he had bounded his desires of
wealth, and follow the dictates of his conscience. His servile ambition
has gained him two yards of red ribbon, and an exile into a miserable
country, where there is no society and so little taste, that I believe
he suffers under a dearth of flatterers. This is said for the use of
your growing sons, whom I hope no golden temptations will induce to
marry women they cannot love, or comply with measures they do not
approve. All the happiness this world can afford is more within reach
than is generally supposed. Whoever seeks pleasure will undoubtedly find
pain; whoever will pursue ease will as certainly find pleasures. The
world's esteem is the highest gratification of human vanity; and that is
more easily obtained in a moderate fortune than an overgrown one, which
is seldom possessed, never gained, without envy. I say esteem; for, as
to applause, it is a youthful pursuit, never to be forgiven after twenty,
and naturally succeeds the childish desire of catching the setting sun,
which I can remember running very hard to do: a fine thing truly if it
could be caught; but experience soon shows it to be impossible. A wise
and honest man lives to his own heart, without that silly splendour that
makes him a prey to knaves, and which commonly ends in his becoming one
of the fraternity. I am very glad to hear Lord Bute's decent economy sets
him above anything of that kind. I wish it may become national. A
collective body of men differs very little from a single man; frugality
is the foundation of generosity. I have often been complimented on the
English heroism, who have thrown away so many millions, without any
prospect of advantage to themselves, purely to succour a distressed
princess. I never could hear these praises without some impatience; they
sounded to me like panegyrics made by the dependents on the Duke of
Newcastle and poor Lord Oxford, bubbled when they were commended, and
laughed at when undone. Some late events will, I hope, open our eyes: we
shall see we are an island, and endeavour to extend our commerce rather
than the Quixote reputation of redressing wrongs and placing diadems on
heads that should be equally indifferent to us. When time has ripened
mankind into common sense, the name of conqueror will be an odious title.
I could easily prove that, had the Spaniards established a trade with the
Americans, they would have enriched their country more than by the
addition of twenty-two kingdoms, and all the mines they now work--I do
not say possess; since, though they are the proprietors, others enjoy the
profit."
Mary's letters at this period of her life are so entertaining that a few
may well be inserted here for the sheer pleasure of reading them.
TO THE COUNTESS OF BUTE
"Padua, September 30, 1757.
"Lord Bute has been so obliging as to let me know your safe delivery,
and the birth of another daughter; may she be as meritorious in your
eyes as you are in mine! I can wish nothing better to you both, though I
have some reproaches to make you. Daughter! daughter! don't call names;
you are always abusing my pleasures, which is what no mortal will bear.
Trash, lumber, sad stuff, are the titles you give to my favourite
amusement. If I called a white staff a stick of wood, a gold key gilded
brass, and the ensigns of illustrious orders coloured strings, this may
be philosophically true, but would be very ill received. We have all our
playthings: happy are they that can be contented with those they can
obtain: those hours are spent in the wisest manner, that can easiest
shade the ills of life, and are lest productive of ill consequences. I
think my time better employed in reading the adventures of imaginary
people, than the Duchess of Marlborough's, who passed the latter years
of her life in paddling with her will, and contriving schemes of
plaguing some, and extracting praise from others, to no purpose;
eternally disappointed, and eternally fretting. The active scenes are
over at my age. I indulge, with all the art I can, my taste for reading.
If I would confine it to valuable books, they are almost as rare as
valuable men. I must be content with what I can find. As I approach a
second childhood, I endeavour to enter into the pleasures of it. Your
youngest son is, perhaps, at this very moment riding on a poker with
great delight, not at all regretting that it is not a gold one, and much
less wishing it an Arabian horse, which he would not know how to manage.
I am reading an idle tale, not expecting wit or truth in it, and am very
glad it is not metaphysics to puzzle my judgment, or history to mislead
my opinion. He fortifies his health by exercise; I calm my cares by
oblivion. The methods may appear low to busy people; but, if he improves
his strength, and I forget my infirmities, we attain very desirable ends."
To THE COUNTESS OF BUTE
"Venice, November 8, 1758.
"... Some few months before Lord W. Hamilton married, there appeared a
foolish song, said to be wrote by a poetical great lady, who I really
think was the character of Lady Arabella, in _The Female Quixote_
(without the beauty): you may imagine such a conduct, at court, made her
superlatively ridiculous. Lady Delawarr, a woman of great merit, with
whom I lived in much intimacy, showed this fine performance to me: we
were very merry in supposing what answer Lord William would make to
these passionate addresses; she begged me to say something for a poor
man, who had nothing to say for himself. I wrote, _extempore_, on the
back of the song, some stanzas that went perfectly well to the tune. She
promised they should never appear as mine, and faithfully kept her word.
By what accident they have fallen into the hands of that thing Dodsley,
I know not, but he has printed them as addressed, by me, to a very
contemptible puppy, and my own words as his answer. I do not believe
either Job or Socrates ever had such a provocation. You will tell me, it
cannot hurt me with any acquaintance I ever had: it is true; but it is
an excellent piece of scandal for the same sort of people that
propagate, with success, that your nurse left her estate, husband, and
family, to go with me to England; and, then I turned her to starve,
after defrauding her of God knows what. I thank God witches are out of
fashion, or I should expect to have it deposed, by several credible
witnesses, that I had been seen flying through the air on a broomstick,
&c. I am really sick with vexation."
TO SIR JAMES STEUART
"Venice, November 14, 1758.
"This letter will be solely to you, and I desire you will not
communicate it to Lady Fanny: she is the best woman in the world, and I
would by no means make her uneasy; but there will be such strange things
in it that the Talmud or the Revelations are not half so mysterious:
what these prodigies portend, God knows; but I never should have
suspected half the wonders I see before my eyes, and am convinced of the
necessity of the repeal of the witch act (as it is commonly called), I
mean, to speak correctly, the tacit permission given to witches, so
scandalous to all good Christians: though I tremble to think of it for
my own interests. It is certain the British islands have always been
strangely addicted to this diabolical intercourse, of which I dare swear
you know many instances; but since this public encouragement given to
it, I am afraid there will not be an old woman in the nation entirely
free from suspicion. The devil rages more powerfully than ever: you will
believe me, when I assure you the great and learned English minister is
turned methodist, several duels have been fought in the Place of St.
Marc for the charms of his excellent lady, and I have been seen flying
in the air in the figure of Julian Cox, which history is related with so
much candour and truth by the pious pen of Joseph Glanville, chaplain to
K. Charles. I know you young rakes make a jest of all those things, but
I think no good lady can doubt of a relation so well attested. She was
about seventy years old (very near my age), and the whole sworn to
before Judge Archer, 1663: very well worth reading, but rather too long
for a letter. You know (wretch that I am) 'tis one of my wicked maxims
to make the best of a bad bargain; and I have said publicly that every
period of life has its privileges, and that even the most despicable
creatures alive may find some pleasures. Now observe this comment; who
are the most despicable creatures? Certainly, old women. What pleasure
can an old woman take? Only witchcraft. I think this argument as clear
as any of the devout Bishop of Cloyne's metaphysics: this being decided
in a full congregation of saints, only such atheists as you and Lady
Fanny can deny it. I own all the facts, as many witches have done before
me, and go every night in a public manner astride upon a black cat to a
meeting where you are suspected to appear: this last article is not
sworn to, it being doubtful in what manner our clandestine midnight
correspondence is carried on. Some think it treasonable, others lewd
(don't tell Lady Fanny); but all agree there was something very odd and
unaccountable in such sudden likings. I confess, as I said before, it is
witchcraft. You won't wonder I do not sign (notwithstanding all my
impudence) such dangerous truths: who knows the consequence? The devil
is said to desert his votaries."
To SIR JAMES STEUART
"Venice, January 13, 1759.
"I have indulged myself some time with day-dreams of the happiness I
hope to enjoy this summer in the conversation of Lady Fanny and Sir
James S.; but I hear such frightful stories of precipices and hovels
during the whole journey, I begin to fear there is no such pleasure
allotted me in the book of fate: the Alps were once molehills in my
sight when they interposed between me and the slightest inclination; now
age begins to freeze, and brings with it the usual train of melancholy
apprehensions. Poor human-kind! We always march blindly on; the fire of
youth represents to us all our wishes possible; and, that over, we fall
into despondency that prevents even easy enterprises: a store in winter,
a garden in summer, bounds all our desires, or at least our undertakings.
If Mr. Steuart would disclose all his imaginations, I dare swear he has
some thoughts of emulating Alexander or Demosthenes, perhaps both:
nothing seems difficult at his time of life, everything at name. I am
very unwilling, but am afraid I must submit to the confinement of my
boat and my easy-chair, and go no farther than they can carry me. Why
are our views so extensive and our powers so miserably limited? This
is among the mysteries which (as you justly say) will remain ever
unfolded to our shallow capacities. I am much inclined to think we are
no more free agents than the queen of clubs when she victoriously takes
prisoner the knave of hearts; and all our efforts (when we rebel against
destiny) as weak as a card that sticks to a glove when the gamester is
determined to throw it on the table. Let us then (which is the only true
philosophy) be contented with our chance, and make the best of that bad
bargain of being born in this vile planet; where we may find, however
(God be thanked), much to laugh at, though little to approve.