I have made but few allusions to Elizabeth’s love triumphs, but as the time approaches when she was to make her final choice, I must now allude to them. There was a certain “Mr. B.,” from what I can gather a Mr. Brockman, of Beechborough, a fine place near Mount Morris, who had been desperately in love with her for some time; he is frequently alluded to in the family letters. In one to Sarah at this period Elizabeth says—
“Poor Mr. B. really takes his misfortunes so to heart that he is literally dying, indeed I hear he is very ill, which I am sorry for, but I have no balsam of heartsease for him, if he should die I will have him buried in Westminster Abbey next the woman that died of a prick of a finger, for it is quite as extraordinary, and he shall have his figure languishing in wax, with ‘Miss Robinson, fecit,’ wrote over his head; upon my word I compassionate his pains, and pity him, but as I am as compassionate, I am as cold too as Charity. He pours out his soul in lamentations to his friends, and ‘all but the nymph that should redress his wrong, attend his passion and approve his song,’ for the Rhyme will have it so. I am glad he has such a stock of flesh to waste upon. Waller says that—
A certain captain, name unknown, also inveigled the Rev. William Freind to a coffee-house to talk two hours by the clock of Miss Elizabeth Robinson’s perfections. About this Elizabeth writes to Mr. Freind—
“I am very sorry if the poor man is really what you think, unhappy; if his case is uneasy I am sure it is desperate; complaint I hope, is more the language, than misery the condition, of lovers. To speak ingenuously you men use us oddly enough, you adore the pride, flatter the vanity, gratify the ill-nature, and obey the tyranny that insults you; then slight the love, despise the affection, and enslave the obedience that would make you happy: when frowning mistresses all are awful goddesses, when submissive wives, despicable mortals. There are two excellent lines which have made me ever deaf to the voice of the charmer, charm’d he ever so sweetly—
“Flattery has ever been the ladder to power, and I have detested its inverted effects of worshipping one into slavery, while it has pretended to adore one to Deification. If ever I commit my happiness to the hands of any person, it must be one whose indulgence I can trust, for flattery I cannot believe. I am sure I have faults, and am convinced a husband will find them, but wish he may forgive them; but vanity is apt to seek the admirer, rather than the friend, not considering that the passion of love may, but the effect of esteem can never, degenerate to dislike. I do not mean to exclude Love, but I mean to guard against the fondness that arises from personal advantages.... I have known many men see all the cardinal virtues in a good complexion, and every ornament of a character in a pair of fine eyes, and they have married these perfections, which might perhaps shine and bloom a twelvemonth, and then alas! it appeared these fine characters were only written in white and red.
“A long and intimate acquaintance is the best presage of future agreement. I have strengthened this argument to myself by the example of you and Mrs. Freind. I hope in my long and tedious dissertation I have said nothing disrespectful of Love. As for your particular inducement to it I cannot tell whether it was beauty or good qualities, they being united in her in a degree of perfection not to be excelled.”
After wishing the rejected lover “Riches and alliance to help his laudable ambition,” she concludes with, “I wish the same advantages for myself, with one of established fortune and character, so established, that one piece of generosity should not hurt his fortune, nor one act of indiscretion prejudice his character.”
Who this particular individual was is not now known, but that Elizabeth was the cynosure of all eyes from her wit, beauty, and vivacity is shown by her brothers’ letters of this period, which constantly allude to her troop of admirers. Mr. Lyttelton, now Sir George Lyttelton, the only single man whom she had ever mentioned with uniform admiration, married this year, on June 15, Lucy, daughter of Hugh Fortescue, Esq., of Filleigh, Devonshire, a marriage of the purest affection on both sides.
In a letter at the end of 1741 she states that her father’s steward in Yorkshire had been guilty of peccadilloes, and that she was to accompany her parents to Yorkshire in early spring, where her father promised her attendance at the York races, in lieu of the Canterbury ones, which then appeared to her a poor substitute. Whilst in Yorkshire she either met for the first time, or more probably renewed her acquaintance with, Mr. Edward Montagu, her future husband, of whom some account must now be given.
Edward Montagu was the son of Charles Montagu, fifth son of the great Earl of Sandwich,[226] Lord High Admiral of the Fleet to Charles II., and who had acted as his proxy at his marriage with Catherine of Braganza. Charles Montagu married twice. By his first wife, Elizabeth Foster, he had one son, James; he married for second wife Sarah Rogers, daughter of John Rogers and his wife, née Margaret Cock. The Rogers owned large estates at Newcastle-on-Tyne[227] and in its neighbourhood. Charles Montagu, by his second marriage, had three sons, Edward, Crewe, and John, and a daughter, Jemima, who was married at the time I am writing of to Mr. Sydney Medows, afterwards Sir Sydney Medows. Mr. Edward Montagu was born in 1691, hence he was twenty-nine years older than Elizabeth. At the time he courted Elizabeth, another admirer, a young nobleman, whose name I know not, is stated to have been in love with her, but constant to her former protestation of choosing a “formed character” that she could look up to, she chose the older man. It is odd not a sentence is met with about him before, except that one of her brothers chaffs her about “converting a Mr. M—— to dancing,” which may have referred to him. He was a profound mathematician, the friend of Emerson and other learned men of that day. His character was amiable, equable, just, and of the highest integrity, as is shown by his letters, and his political conduct as a Member of Parliament in what was a corrupt age. Mrs. Carter[228] mentions him “as a man of sense, a scholar, and a mathematician” in her letters. He owned a good estate at Allerthorpe, Yorkshire, and another near Rokeby (the fine estate belonging to Elizabeth’s cousin, “Long” Sir Thomas Robinson), also a house in Dover Street, London.
[226] For other particulars as to the Montagu family the reader is referred to the pedigree.
[227] In 1689 Mr. Rogers bought the estate of East Denton, Northumberland, with its collieries, for £10,900.
[228] Elizabeth Carter, born 1716, died 1806. The learned Greek scholar.
Evidently the letter here inserted in Mrs. Anne Donnellan’s handwriting, but unsigned, was an answer to an appeal of Elizabeth’s for advice as to this courtship. Though long, I consider it so perfectly suitable in its advice to any persons contemplating matrimony, I give it in extenso—
“I can’t enough express to you, my dear Friend, how much your confidence in me obliges me, as it shows me the place I hold in your heart. The latter part of your letter, which is what I write to now, is a difficulty I know how to pity, as I have experienced it, and yet I do not find I am at all the more capable of advising how to avoid it; there is a medium between encouragement and ill humour that is certainly right to avoid being thought to desire to raise a passion that one does not design to gratifie, or to be too apt to think one has raised a passion that must be discouraged, for as I think nothing is more unjust than to wish to make another unhappy, merely to gratifie a vanity of being known to be admired, so nothing is more ridiculous than to be too apt to fancy one has raised such a passion, and I should always choose to be the last that perceived it, rather than the first. I have seen so many appearances of liking that has proved neither uneasy to one side or t’other, that I am not apt to fear great hurt from them, and I fancy the longer you live the more you will be of my mind; indeed when a man gives way to a passion on a prospect of success, and finds a disappointment to it, has often, I believe, given a melancholy turn to his whole life: but for what I call occasional likings they can run from one to another with great ease and dexterity. Now what I think the most difficult in these affairs is to satisfie others in our conduct, for there is as you observe, in the heart of male and female a principle of vanity and self-love that makes us unwillingly give way to a preference in any thing, and we are very apt to comfort ourselves with thinking, and sometimes saying, that the preference given is not from greater perfections, but from greater encouragement, ‘some people set themselves out, and pay a court I cannot,’ when we are all doing our best to gain this descried admiration, and vexed, even to make us unjust when we fail. In short, and when I view human nature in some lights, I can almost forgive Swift’s Yahoos. But to the point. I should think the behaviour on these occasions should be as easy as we can, and we should be pretty sure there is a passion growing in the heart before we make an alteration that can be perceived by the person concerned, and as for the by-slanderers, I should endeavour to convince them I did not desire such a conquest, but at the same time, I would not let them think they could easily persuade me I had made it. I would converse as usual in public, but I would avoid private conversations, lest others should think I sought them, but these are things I am sure you can think of better than I can, and must be practised as circumstances suit. The person said nothing here but what was extremely proper, we talked of you all, and you and another were commended with great elegance, and for the third they said they did not know them enough to give an opinion.
“Now my dear Friend a word about the desire that is natural in most females to make lovers, if you meet with a person who you think would be proper to make you happy in the married state, and they show a desire to please you, and a solidity in their liking, give it the proper encouragement that the decency of our sex will allow of, for it is the settlement in the world we should aim at, and the only way we females have of making ourselves of use to Society and raising ourselves in this world; but for lovers merely for being courted and admired they are of no real use, and often prove a great detriment both by their own malice of disappointment and their jealousy of others, and for a friendship of any tenderness between disengaged persons of different sexes I am afraid there is no such thing, so do not be caught by that deceitful bait. Esteem and regard may be without passion, but tenderness and confidence, and what we call friendship among ourselves, will, with opportunity, turn to desire in the different sexes. We desire to possess a friend to know their heart, to be in their thoughts, this must turn to passion between the sexes, I think ’tis impossible to be otherwise, and I could express it more philosophically but you will do it for me. Now pardon me this impertinent letter, there are not those in the world to whom I would write so freely, for I do not know those who I think have sense and goodness of heart, to bear advice: the only merit of mine is its sincerity and affection, and having seen more years has given me many opportunities of seeing the world of love, with all its mischiefs. Adieu, burn this, and love me as I do you most sincerely.
“P.S.—I will say no more of Books till we meet, though I must wonder at the want of discernment in those who can read an Author who is all fiction, and take it for certain truth.”
Anyhow, Mr. Montagu and Elizabeth entered into an engagement, and in the Gentleman’s Magazine for August, 1742, is the following announcement:—“August 5th. Edward Montagu, Esqr., Member for Huntingdon, to the eldest daughter of Matthew Robinson, of Horton in Kent, Esqr.”
The Rev. William Freind tied the nuptial knot.
The day after her marriage Mrs. Montagu writes to the Duchess of Portland—
“Friday, August 6, 1742.
“Dear Madam,
“I return your Grace a thousand thanks for your letter; the good wishes of a friend are of themselves a happiness, and believe me I have always thought myself the nearer being happy because I knew you wished me so. If your affection to me will last as long as my love and gratitude towards you, I think it will stay with me till the latest moment I shall have in this world; no alteration of circumstances or length of time can wear out my grateful remembrance of your favours to me; you have a station in my heart, from whence you cannot be driven while any one virtue lives in it: truth, constancy, gratitude, and every honest affection guard you there!
“Mr. Montagu desires me to make his compliments to my Lord Duke and your Grace, with many thanks for the favour his Grace designs him of a visit which he is not willing to put off so long as our return from Yorkshire, but will be glad of the honour of seeing the Duke on Monday, at seven o’clock in Dover Street; and I hope at that most happy hour to have the pleasure of seeing you. We shall spend that evening in Town. If you will be at home to-morrow at two o’clock, I will pass an hour with you; but pray send me word to Jermyn Street at eleven, whether I can come to you without meeting any person at Whitehall but the Duke; to every one else pray deny your dressing room. Mr. Freind will tell your Grace I behaved magnanimously, and not one cowardly tear, I assure you, did I shed at the solemn Altar, my mind was in no mirthful mood indeed. I have a great hope of happiness; the world, as you say, speaks well of Mr. Montagu, and I have many obligations to him, which must gain my particular esteem; but such a change of life must furnish me with a thousand anxious thoughts.
“Adieu, my dear Lady Duchess: whatever I am, I must still be with gratitude, affection, and fidelity,
Amongst the numerous congratulations received on her marriage may be mentioned letters from Lady Andover, staying at Levens with the Berkshires, and Mrs. Pendarves, who writes from Calwich. The following paragraph shows the general esteem of Mr. Montagu’s character—
“I think you cannot be disappointed in the choice you have made; you know the essentials of happiness, and have made your choice accordingly, and Mr. Montagu must be much envied now, as he has always been esteemed: nobody’s character answers more to your merit. You must give me leave to trouble you with my compliments to him, and to add that I wish to be acquainted with him. I cannot help having a very favourable opinion of the person whom you have preferred to all others.”
“Delia” (Miss Dashwood) writes—
“My heart in plain sincerity wishes you joy and lasting happiness, and sure you have the best security for both, as all allow Mr. Montagu has an uncommon good understanding, and as large a share of good nature, both which are conspicuous in yourself, that they must undoubtedly when joined produce a lasting harmony.”
Mr. Montagu appears to have been only known by popular report to the Bullstrode circle, till his marriage, but his immense circle of relations and friends opened a fresh vista of delightful and extended social engagements for his wife. This first letter of Elizabeth’s to her mother after marriage is interesting—
“Dover Street, August 10.
“Hond. Madam,
“I had the pleasure of meeting your letter here last night at my arrival. The Duke and Duchess of Portland spent the evening and supped with us. This morning I have been looking over the house, and seeing many things much better than I deserve, in which I am to have a share: but what gives me infinitely more pleasure than these favours of fortune, is observing the willingness and gladness with which Mr. Montagu bestows them upon me. I find the house very good and convenient, and I hope I shall spend many happy days in it. Happy I am sure they will be to me, if I can make them so to the person who has thus obliged me. I must write but a very short letter, for Mrs. Medows[229] who favours us with her company to dinner is waiting for me in the next room.
“My sister is just returned from some business she has been doing for me, she would desire her duty if she was here, but there are two pair of stairs between us. I hope you got well home from Canterbury. We propose going away on Thursday. This day we shall spend in Town, to-morrow we return to our Box in Kentish Town, and then away to Yorkshire, where if you have any commands, pray let me have the pleasure of executing them. Madam Sally and I will write our travels as we go. Mr. Montagu desires his best respects to you, my Father and my brothers. My duty and love attends them as proper. I will in all good say as far and as much for my sister as myself, so accept the same compliment from her, and believe me, dear Madam, with a grateful sense of all your and my Father’s goodness and care,
“P.S.—I design to write to my Father next post. The Duke of Argyll[230] is said to be relenting upon the subject of places of which several are spoken of for him, and that he goes to Flanders. Some report that his eldest daughter[231] is to be Duchess of Greenwich at his death.”
[229] Mr. Montagu’s sister.
[230] 2nd Duke of Argyll and Duke of Greenwich. Military commander, statesman, and orator; born 1680, died 1743.
[231] Caroline, made Baroness Greenwich.
It will be seen by this letter that Sarah Robinson was acting chaperone, which the odd etiquette of those days exacted, it being then not thought bon ton for a newly married couple to be alone on their honeymoon!
The following letter from Mr. Robinson to his new son-in-law shows the happiness of the newly married couple:—
“Dear Sir,
“Don’t be apprehensive upon seeing this, that added to the impertinence you have already received from my hands, you are to have that of a troublesome correspondent; I can assure you it is the way I am the least troublesome to my friends; the truth of the matter is that I know I should never forgive myself if I should be wanting to you in any respect, even though it should amount to no more than a point of ceremony. As I think that no letters that come from your wife ought to be a secret to you, I cannot help telling you I saw one from her last week to her Mother, and another to her brother Tom, so full of the happiness of her present condition, and the prospect of her future, that I begin to be suspicious that they are designed as a reproof to me for the deplorable state under which she passed twenty-three years. I shall not forgive her till I know she uses all her endeavours to give to you an equal share, which I think you have at least a right to. We hope you enjoy the benefit of this fine weather upon the road, and will arrive safe and well at Allerthorpe before this to the satisfaction of my good friend Mr. Carter.[232] Our compliments attend your family and his.
“Horton, August ye 15, 1742.”
This was addressed—
[232] Mr. Carter was steward and agent to Mr. Montagu; a most worthy man.
[233] Allerthorpe, being close to Burneston, the Robinsons were well acquainted with the neighbourhood.
The following letter of Dr. Conyers Middleton to Elizabeth on her marriage is of interest:—
“Hildersham,[234] near Linton, August 17, 1742.
“Madam,
“I should have paid my compliments earlier on the joyful occasion of your marriage if I had known whither to address them; for your brother’s letter which informed me, happened to lie several days at Cambridge, before it came to my hands. My congratulation, however, though late, wants nothing of the warmth with which the earliest was accompanied; for I must beg leave to assure you that I take a real part in the present joy of your family, and feel a kind of paternal[235] pleasure, from the good fortune of one whose amiable qualities I have been a witness of from her tenderest years, and to whom I have ever been wishing and ominating everything that is good. I have always expected from your singular merit and accomplishments that they would recommend you in proper time to an advantageous and honourable match; and was assured from your prudence that it would never suffer you to accept any which was not worthy of you; so that it gives me not only the greatest pleasure on your account, but a sort of pride also on my own, to see my expectations so fully answered, and my predictions of you so literally fulfilled. As all conjugal happiness is founded on mutual affection, cherished by good sense, so you have the fairest prospect of it now open before you, by your marriage with a gentleman, not only of figure and fortune, but of great knowledge and understanding, who values you, not so much for the charms of your person, as the beauties of your mind, which will always give you the surest hold of him, as they will every day be gathering strength, whilst the others are daily losing it. But I should make a sad compliment to a blooming bride if I meant to exclude her person from contributing any part to her nuptial happiness; that is far from my meaning; and yours Madam, I am sure, could not fail of having its full share in acquiring your husband’s affection. What I would inculcate therefore, is only this: that though beauty has the greatest force to conciliate affection, yet it cannot preserve it without the help of the mind; and whatever the perfection of the one may be, the accomplishments of the other will always be the more amiable; and in the married state especially, will be found after all, the most solid and lasting basis of domestic comfort. But I am using the privilege of my years, and instead of compliments, giving lessons to one who does not want them. I shall only add, therefore, my repeated wishes for all the joy that matrimony can give you and Mr. Montagu, to whose worthy character I am no stranger, though I have not the honour to be known to him in person, and am with sincere respect,
“P.S.—My wife charges me with her compliments and best wishes of all happiness and prosperity in your new state of life.”
[234] Hildersham, near Cambridge, built by Dr. Middleton. The poet Gray was a constant visitor there.
[235] It will be remembered Dr. Middleton’s first wife was Mrs. Drake, née Morris, Elizabeth’s maternal grandmother.
Here I make some extracts from Mrs. Montagu’s second letter to her beloved Duchess of Portland, dated August 21, 1742, from Allerthorpe, Mr. Montagu’s Yorkshire seat—
“On Tuesday I arrived at this place, not tired with my journey, but satisfied therewith. As far as Nottingham you will travel very soon, and then as far as Doncaster, therefore it will be but impertinent to give you an account of the road or anything concerning it. I will only tell your Grace I saw Nottingham Castle,[236] where there is beauty and magnificence worthy the wisdom and the riches of your ancestors. As we came nearer to this place, the country grew more wild, but not less beautiful; we came through some rivers that charmed me beyond all things.... We have at present very fine weather, the sun gilds every object, and I assure you it is the only fine thing we have here, for the house is old and not handsome: it is very convenient, and the situation extremely pleasant. We found the finest peaches, nectarines and apricots, that I have ever eat: your Grace will think I mean turnips, carrots and parsnips; but really and truly they are apricots, peaches and nectarines. To-morrow, I believe will be one of the happiest days I ever spent, I am to go to fetch my brothers from school. How delightful will be such a meeting after so many years’ separation.”
[236] Belonged to the Dukes of Newcastle, the duchess’s ancestors. Destroyed by mob in Reform riots, 1835.
These were her three youngest brothers, William, John, and Charles, who had been five years at school at Scorton, without coming home. Mr. Montagu, eager to gratify his bride’s love of her family, had allowed her to have them to stay, and ever afterwards he was their constant friend and benefactor. Further on in the letter she states that it took them “six days with very easy stages” to reach Allerthorpe from London! In the next letter she states that her little brothers being “sensible, good-natured, and sober, the most affectionate towards each other of any children of their age I ever saw: they have very good characters at school, both as to their learning and behaviour; but the quintessence of perfection is my brother Jack.”
At the end of this letter she mentions her old friend, Miss Cally Scott, of Scott’s Hall, was going to be married to Mr. Best, a man of fortune.
On August 25 she writes to her cousin, Mrs. Freind—
“Dear Cousin, I am ashamed I have not before answered your kind letter and returned thanks for those good wishes of whose accomplishments I hope there is the fairest prospect: I think we increase in esteem without decaying in complaisance, and I hope we shall always remember Mr. Freind and the fifth of August with thankfulness. I am infinitely obliged to Mr. Freind for not letting the knot be tied by the hands of an ordinary bungler; he was very good in coming to London on purpose, but he did not give his last benediction, but stole away before my sister or any of us were come downstairs.
“We arrived at this place after a journey of six days through fine countries, where the riches of Harvest promised luxury to the Landlord, plenty to the farmer and food to the labourer. Here we are situated in a fine country, and Mr. Montagu has the pleasure of calling many hundred pounds a year about his house his own, without any person’s property interfering with it: I think it is the prettiest estate, and in the best order I ever saw; large and beautiful meadows for riding or walking in, with a pretty river[237] winding about them, upon which we shall sometimes go out in boats.
“In this parish Dr. Robinson,[238] our general Uncle, has founded a school and an Alms House where the young are taught industry, the old, content: I propose to visit the Alms House very soon. I saw the old women with the Bucks upon their sleeves at Church, and it gave me pleasure. Heraldry[239] does not always descend with such honour, as when Charity leads her by the hand. Our uncle did this good while he was alive; it was not that Soul thrift that would save itself with another’s money.
“I hope you will forgive my not having written to you before, but a new family, and a new place must take up one’s time. Our house here is tolerably convenient, and that is all that can be said for it. We have a better which I hope you will often see in Berkshire.[240] Pray when you and Mr. Freind have a leisure hour, dispose of it in writing to me. Mr. Montagu has an estate near Rokeby, from whence I intend to visit Sir Thomas Robinson’s[241] fine park of which I hear great praising.
[237] The Swale.
[238] The Rev. Matthew Robinson founded these charities at Burneston, York, where he was Vicar for forty years.
[239] The Hospitallers wear a purple gown with a gold buck on the shoulder, the Robinson crest.
[240] Sandleford Priory, Berks.
[241] Mrs. Freind’s brother. See note on Rokeby at the end of this book.
Mr. Montagu having left Elizabeth for a few days for business at Newcastle, she writes to him—
“How very fortunate are those few who in the Person they love, meet with the principles of Honour and Virtue to guide them through the World, but this, my fortune, so happy and so rare, shall not breed in me that insolence of opinion that I deserve it, but I will still look up to Heaven and you with gratitude and continual acknowledgments.”
This sufficiently indicates the happiness and mutual confidence reigning between the newly wedded pair.
On October 2 Dr. Conyers Middleton wrote Mrs. Montagu a long letter, mainly a dissertation on marriage and its duties. He alludes to his pleasure at her having her three youngest brothers with her, calling them “enfans trouvés by a sister unknown to them,” and he adds—
“I shall always think myself particularly interested in their success, for they were all born under my roof, which may, one day perhaps, derive an accession of fame from that circumstance. If I should live to see any of them in the University, it would be a pleasure to me to do everything in my power that might be of use to their improvement.”
This shows that Mrs. Robinson had been accustomed to stay with her mother, the first Mrs. Middleton, for her latter frequent confinements, though Elizabeth and some of the elder sons were born at York. Dr. Middleton begs Mr. and Mrs. Montagu to pay him a visit at Cambridge on their return to London, and states, “This university had the honour of Mr. Montagu’s education, and claims some share in yours.”
Being detained by business in the north, Mrs. Montagu wrote to Mrs. Donnellan to send her a winter mantle and muff, and as prices of those times may interest my readers, I will mention the blue velvet mantle cost £5, the ermine muff one guinea. In Mrs. Donnellan’s letter the Père Courayer sends his compliments and good wishes to Mrs. Montagu. As he figures much in later letters, I give a short sketch of his biography. Peter Francis le Courayer was born in 1681, and was a Normandy ecclesiastic; although a Roman Catholic, he had the courage to defend the ordinances of the English Church, for which the Pope censured him severely. He left France for England, and went to Oxford, where he lodged with Mrs. Chenevix, the famous toy-woman. He was made LL.D., and translated Father Paul’s “History of the Council of Trent,” also Sleidan’s “History of the Reformation.” He was well known to Horace Walpole. He died in 1776. His pet-name was “the little Père.” In a letter of the duchess’s of October 9 from Welbeck, where she was visiting her mother, Lady Oxford, she says—
“Mamma was so obliging last week as to carry us to Worksop Manor,[242] the Duke of Norfolk’s.[243] The Designs are noble and grand, they have made great plantations. The gardener told me he had planted last year 300,000 Forest trees, besides sowing three score bushels of seeds. The approach to the house is fine. I don’t like the house though it was built by Bess of Harwicke, whose wisdom I have in great reverence: the best apartment is up two pair of stairs, the additional offices lately built are exceedingly good, the Dairy much prettier than that we saw at Richmond. The servant told us the Duchess gave the chief direction for the building, had planted those woods, had drawn the plan for that piece of water of 120 acres. The Duke’s time is chiefly occupied with drawing plans for Bee hives! With difficulty I kept my countenance....
[242] Worksop was burnt down in 1761. The duke here mentioned built 500 rooms to it.
[243] Edward Howard, 16th Duke of Norfolk.
“We were on Monday at Kiveton, which is by much the finest house I ever saw, and the best furnished. The Park and views from it are very beautiful.”
From Allerthorpe the Montagus visited Mr. Buckley[244] at Bishop’s Dale, near which place Mr. Robinson in former days had lived in the shooting season. Elizabeth had not been there for fifteen years. She describes to the Duchess of Portland the country—
[244] Mr. Buckley had been a second father to the three little Robinson boys, who spent their holidays with him.
“I had been three days upon an expedition to a wild part of the country called the Dales, where Nature’s works are not delicate, pretty and mignonne, but grand, sublime and magnificent. Vast mountains, rocks and cascades, and rapid rivers make the country beautiful and surprising. We went to a farm abounding in wonders, a high hill with some hanging wood before it, behind it a large and rapid river with the prospect of a huge cascade, an old Castle and a Church. Some houses in view take from it the honour of absolute solitude: a range of rocks appears like the ruins of an old town on the other side of the river. In a cottage built in this charming place, lives an old woman, who has attained to an hundred and four years, and for this long lease of life, has not exchanged the best comfort. She enjoys good health, tolerable strength, has her hearing perfect, and her sight very well: is cheerful and has not lost her reason, but answers with sense and spirit, her hair is of a fine black: she was knitting when we went to her, and has promised to knit me a pair of stockings in a month.
“My Father had a house in this part of the world for the summer sports of shooting and fishing, so that the old woman and I had been well acquainted 15 years ago, and she told me laughing she imagined I did not expect to see her alive at this time....
“Tell Père Courayer[245] my head is as much troubled with chimeras and giddiness as ever. I fear he is too fond of variety in life to be a friend to Matrimony. The merriest man I have seen in Yorkshire is a Frenchman, who came here for religion, and has had the needful of life added unto him; he has a little estate, and lives with the mountain nymphs, Liberty and Health, in the Dales; he amuses himself with singing to his grandchildren, mending his clothes, and making soup: his grandson eats soup with him, and his next darling, le petit chat, helps him off with the Bouillie. He can not only make a fine dish of the cabbage, but of the snails and caterpillars, and what we call the unprofitable vermin that live upon it! There was not a creature in Noah’s Ark that would not be received into his larder, for a Frenchman is seldom so proud of stomach as to term anything unclean....
“Mr. Montagu desires his compliments to your grace, and my Lord Duke; we talk of you and drink your health as often as you can expect from sober people. Had I married a Tory fox-hunter he might have toasted you in a longer draught; but for temperate Whigs we do you reason.
[245] He had expressed a fear that matrimony would spoil her philosophy.
Mr. Montagu was a Whig, but, as his wife states, a moderate one. His political conduct as Member for Huntingdon was irreproachably upright in a most venal age. What respect his wife already had for his judgment is shown in a letter from her to him in London, whither he had gone for the meeting of Parliament on October 16, enclosing her reply to Dr. Conyers Middleton’s letter, desiring him, if he did not approve of it, to burn it, and she would write another. The following passage speaks volumes for Mrs. Montagu’s humility (though she was so universally praised):—
“The letter directed to Dr. Middleton, if you approve, I would beg the favour of you to frank, and send to the post, but I should be glad if you would first take the trouble to read it, for it is with some uneasiness I correspond with the very wise. I think an understanding of a middle size has a great deal of trouble in conversation between reaching to those above it, and stooping to those below it.”
She signs—
His letters to her begin generally “My Dearest Angel,” or “My Dearest Life.” His writing is most characteristic, a clear, firm hand, easily read, much information compressed into a few words, and filled with most affectionate expressions.
Elizabeth was now in an interesting condition, and as Dr. Sandys forbade her travelling for a time, she and Sarah remained at Allerthorpe. The joy of Mr. Montagu was extreme at the idea of an heir, which was shared by his sister, Mrs. Medows, and all his relations. Elizabeth, though pleased at the prospect, was very souffrante, and bored by an inactive life, yet submitted to it with a good grace.
At this period her brother Robert was made captain of an East India vessel travelling to China, to his family’s satisfaction.
The Duchess of Portland writes from London and says—
“I was extremely well entertained the other day with seeing Dr. Mead’s[246] curiosities. They are much finer than Sir Hans Sloane’s. In particular he has a mummy much finer preserved. It is the custom to gild their faces, so that all the features are painted over the gold.... Of all the things, except the pictures, which are exquisitely fine, none pleases me more than a mask in bronze, which is exceeding fine workmanship, and has upon it the symbols of all the gods. The crown of vine for Bacchus, a circle of iron for Pluto, the ears of Pan, and the beard of waves for Neptune.”
[246] Dr. Richard Mead, born 1673, died 1754. Celebrated physician and antiquarian.
We gain a peep at French fashions of the day in this paragraph, in a letter of Mrs. Donnellan’s—
“Mrs. Rook, an acquaintance of mine, is just come from Paris, and is come without a hoop, and tells me, except in their high dress, nobody wears one. Their sacks are made proportionably narrow and short, opened before with a petticoat and trimmed, and with a stiff quilted petticoat under: the only reasonable thing I have heard from France a great while, and the only fashion I should wish to follow.”
It would be impossible to include in this work all the letters between Mr. Montagu and his wife, but the following shall be given in its entirety to show his style:—
“November, 1742.
“My Dearest Life,
“Yesterday as soon as it came to hand, j[247] sent yours to my sister. I have not seen her but am sure she thinks herself much obliged, as all must do who have the happiness of a correspondence with you, whose letters not only please by their wit and vivacity, but are full of sincerity and friendship, of virtue and goodness, which you set in so true and amiable a light, that if those that read them grow not wiser and better, it is none of your fault.
“I rejoice at the good account you give of your health, that you suffer less and less every day. I wish j could prevent your suffering at all. The prudent care you take obliges me in the highest degree, and j hope with the assistance of your happy and chearful disposition of mind, preserve you from any misfortune. Though j most eagerly long to see you, j would have you run no hazard, and will content myself till we break up, when j hope neither bad roads nor bad weather shall hinder me coming to you: till then j desire you to spend your time as agreeably as you can, and am glad Mrs. Yorke and Mrs. Clayton are to make you a visit.
“I waited on Mrs. Donnellan this morning, yesterday was not convenient for her, and could not do it before. I paid her the bill which j send enclos’d and a guinea more for your muffe, so that out of ye six guineas j shall owe you five shillings. She expressed herself much obliged, and desired her compliments to you, and both to you and Miss Salley.
“Your Father went out of Town last Friday. The evening before j spent with him, Dr. Audley and your three brothers,[248] who were all well. I suppose you will soon have your instructions about your children[249] at Scorton. You do well in letting them take leave of those they are so much obliged to, and when they come from Burton, if they spend the rest of their time with you, there will be no harm in it, nor will it hinder them in their learning, as they are designed for another school.
“My good friend at Theakstone[250] sent me his brother’s letter, and j received another this afternoon from the Admiralty Office, which j will send you in a post or two, that you may communicate it to his relations. I shall do all j can to serve him, and after j have made inquiry about the manner of doing it, will write to his Father.
“On Thursday last a motion was made for a secret Committee, and the next day for the place Bill, both which succeeded as was expected, the first was flung out by a majority of 66, the latter by a majority of 25! The Debates were very warm, and the Chancellor of the Exchequer[251] was terribly roasted, but all to no purpose, for after what has happened, he and such as he, who have acted so perfidious a part, will be sure to go all lengths. On Monday we expect to have the consideration of the 16,000 Hanover troops[252] come before us, and to be carried through, a worse thing than any that was ever attempted in the time of Sir R(obert) W(alpole).
“I hope this will find dear Miss Salley recovered, pray present her with my best compliments, and believe me to be,
“With the most tender regard,
[247] Mr. Montagu, like the Duke of Portland, for years used “j” for “I,” presumably an old custom.
[248] Matthew, Thomas, and Morris.
[249] Her three youngest brothers, John, William, and Charles.
[250] Young Mr. Edward Carter, son of Mr. Montagu’s head agent. He was petitioning for his brother, Mr. William Carter, to have a company of Marines, he being in that service through Mr. Montagu’s influence.
[251] Mr. Sandys.
[252] These men to receive British pay.
Mrs. Montagu writes to the Duchess of Portland—
“I am now in the highest content: my little brothers are to go to Westminster, as soon as the holidays are over, and what adds still to my pleasure in this, is that Jacky’s going is owing to Mr. Montagu’s intercession for him with my Father, who did not design his going to Westminster till next year: our youngest,[253] I believe, is to go out with our new Captain....
“I am pretty well, but I do not like to sit still like Puss in the corner all the winter to watch what may prove a mouse, though I am no mountain. I cannot boast of the numbers that adorn our fireside, my sister and I are the principal figures; besides there is a round table, a square screen, some books and a work basket, with a smelling bottle, when morality grows musty, or a maxim smells too strong, as sometimes they will in ancient books.
“I had a letter to-day from Mr. Montagu, in which he flatters me with the hopes of seeing him at Christmas.”
[253] Charles to accompany his brother Robert.
In a letter of Mrs. Pendarves of December 9 from Clarges Street, where she was living, she tells Mrs. Montagu, “Handel is to have six oratorios in Lent. The operas are dull, the plays for one part well acted, ten are wretched, but Garrick is excellent.”
About this time Elizabeth writes a long letter to the Rev. William Freind, her cousin, portions of which I give. She says—
“The last and best good office you did me, I believe, will claim my thanks to the longest day of my life.... I know it will please you to hear that I have, every day since you made me a wife, had more reason to thank you for the alteration. I have the honour and happiness to be made the guest of a heart furnished with the best and greatest virtues, honesty, integrity and universal benevolence, with the most engaging affection to every one who particularly belongs to him. No desire of power, but to do good, no use of it but to make happy. I cannot be so unjustly diffident as to doubt of the duration of my happiness, when I see the author of it dispensing content to all his dependants, and should he ever cease to use me with more care and generosity and affection than I deserve, I should be the first person he has ever treated in this manner. Since I married I have never heard him say an ill-natured word to any one, or have I received one matrimonial frown. His generous affection in loving all my friends, and desiring every opportunity for my conversing with them, is very obliging to me. We have often pleased ourselves with the hopes of seeing you frequently in Dover Street this winter; but alas, I am a prisoner at Allerthorpe, and the worst of prisoners confined by infirmities and ill health.
“Mr. Montagu went to Parliament ten days ago to my mortification, but with my approbation. I desired him to go, and half wished him to stay! I knew his righteous star would rule his destiny, so I helped him on with honour’s boots, and let him go without murmuring. He left me my sister, and where she is there will happiness be also.... We have not been troubled with any visitor since Mr. M. went away, and could you see how ignorant, how awkward, how absurd, and how uncouth the generality of people are in this country, you would look upon this as a piece of good fortune....
“I am very happy in one thing, that drinking is not within our walls; we have not had one person disordered by liquor since we came down, though most of the poor ladies have had more Hogs in their dining rooms than ever they had in their hog stye....
“I imagine you will have seen Dr. Middleton’s translations of the Epistle by this time; pray tell me what you think of them.”
The Duchess of Portland, on December 4, writes in great annoyance at some of her letters being lost. She was much worried about the health of her mother, who suffered severely from cramp in the stomach. She desires Elizabeth to write a visible[254] letter to cheer Lady Oxford, and adds, “I rejoice you are better. I hope you have left off footing it and tumbling downstairs. Have you read ‘Night Thoughts’? If you have, I beg you will give me your opinion of it.”
[254] Often the familiar letters were enclosed to Mrs. Elstob, a learned lady and authoress, who was now governess to the Portland children. Lady Oxford was then at Bullstrode.
Dr. Young had lost his beloved wife, his step-son and step-daughter the year before. The step-daughter died of consumption, brought on by grief at her mother’s loss. Her step-father had taken her abroad for her health. She died at Montpellier, and was refused Christian burial by the bigoted French of those days. The poor doctor, assisted by his servant, dug her grave in a field, unaided by any one. Can any one wonder at the gloom pervading the poem?
Whilst the duchess is writing to Mrs. Montagu, the latter writes on December 5—
“Madam, after being sunk into stupidity by the company of a strange kind of animal called a country Beau and wit, how unfit am I for conversation of the Duchess of Portland!”
She then proceeds to draw this curious picture of a country beau,—
“who cannot attain the perfection of a monkey, even the art of mimicry.... Had you seen the pains this animal has been taking to imitate the cringe of a beau, the smartness of a wit, till he was hideous to behold, and horrible to hear, you would have pitied him! He walks like a tortoise, and chatters like a magpye: by the indulgence of a kind mother, and the advantage of a country education, he was first a clown, then he was sent to the Inns of Court, where he first fell into a red waistcoat and velvet breeches; then into vanity. This light companion led him to the play house, where he ostentiously coquetted with the orange wenches, who cured him of the bel-air of taking snuff by abridging him of his nostrils, grown even in his own eyes no very lovely figure; he thought Bacchus, no critic in faces, would prove in the end a better friend than Cupid: accordingly he fell into the company of the jovial, till want of money and want of taste led this prodigal son, if not to eat, to drink with swine. He visited the prisons, not as a comforter, but as a companion to criminals; shook hands with the gold finder, and walked in the ways of the scavenger; so singular his humility, none were his contempt. At last, having lost his money, ruined his constitution, and lost all the sense nature gave him, he returned to the country where all the youths of inferior rank, admiring his experience, and emulating his qualities, and copying his manners, grew, some fit for jail, others for transportation.... Notwithstanding all these vices and the most nauseous effect of them, all people treat him civilly!”
Mr. Montagu writes to his wife on December 9,[255] and in it he says—
“Tomorrow the affair of the Hanover troops[256] comes on, and will be carried, which is the worst that ever came before the House, of which j shall give you an account in my next letter, and send you several pamphlets well worth your reading about that, and the present state of affairs.”
Writing again from his house in Dover Street, London, on December 20, he says—
“On Tuesday we met at Westminster, where his Majesty opened the session with a most gracious speech from the throne, which j hope you have got, as you shall have the addresses of both Houses sent by this post. You will easily perceive what was aimed at by the speech, and that by the addresses both the Lords and Commons have most dutifully consented to take 16,000 Hanover troops into our pay. This was openly avowed by Lord Carteret[257] in the Upper House, and by those who made the motion in the Lower. After a debate which lasted till between 10 and 11 at night our address was carried by a majority of 109, the numbers being 150 and 259. By that stroke England is become a province to Hanover, the charge of the military part of its government already being flung upon us (for who shall tell when we shall get rid of this burthen?) or how soon we shall feel the additional part of the same? The late ministry never attempted anything like it, and it shows that the new one will stick at nothing to recommend themselves to the King, the Devil in Milton, ‘with one bound, high overleapt all bound.’... The number of those that love their country truly, always was and ever will be but small, and the Saints never yet governed the Earth, and I believe never will, but true patriotism is not the less a virtue for that, nor must its votaries leave off their endeavours or be discouraged at whatever happens.”
[255] Remember this is “Old Style” date.
[256] This was the proposal to pay Hanoverian troops with English money to assist in the war.
[257] Afterwards Lord Granville, born 1690, died 1763. Secretary of State.
It will hardly be credited that the country apothecary bled Mrs. Montagu for a headache in her delicate condition; but so he did, and as a fever was then raging, she submitted, though saying she heard “he had let the life out of the veins of eleven people,” as this disease would not stand “blooding!”
A Mr. Twycross, who was in love with Sarah Robinson, suffered from sore throat, and she accordingly herself made up a bolus for him from a recipe of an old maid friend, the size of which alarmed Mrs. Montagu. Fortunately, his throat getting better, he did not use it, to Mrs. Montagu’s relief, who says—
“Had he swallowed it I should have thought there was love powder in it, for he said a thousand pretty things to her, with an air of great tenderness, and indeed had he taken the bolus I believe no man could have been nearer dying for a lady. The recipe had been given her by an ancient maiden, who having said in her sorrow all men were liars, thought the best way to cure them of the vice of telling lyes was to choak them.”
Some details as to the conveyance of goods are given in a letter of Mr. Robinson, Senior, to Mr. Montagu on December 12, saying, “Dear Sir, I sent on Saturday by the Whitstable Hoy[258] ‘Talbot’ two brace of woodcocks and a pheasant, which I hope you have received.”
[258] A coasting vessel.
In a letter to Mr. Montagu, December 17, his wife desires him,
“pray order Griffith to send me down ‘The Complaint, or Thoughts on Time, Death and Friendship.’[259]... I have been desired by a friend to read it....
“Our boys[260] are to be put on board the York stage this day sennight, this will be their first launching into the world, I wish the bounteous Lady Fortune would take ’em in hand. Jacky is vastly pleased that you entreated his Father to send him to Westminster. They desire their best respects.”
Mr. Montagu was still detained in London, not only by his parliamentary duties, but for a Chancery suit. He writes on December 21, lamenting the long separation “from the ardent object of his desires,” but pleased to think that the doctor will soon give her permission to join him in London. This passage throws light on law suits of that day—
“Our petition, as we were made to expect, was to have been heard this day, but the Lord Chancellor who has, j think, much more business than any one man can go through as he ought to do, had so many petitions that it is thought impossible it should come on sooner than tomorrow, and may not be till near the beginning of next term. Part of his Lordship’s time is this day taken up by his attendance on the King, who comes to the House of Lords to pass some money bills, in all his royal pageantry and show. Things of this nature add a great deal to the plague, expense and delay of Law, especially in the Court of Chancery. If we are not heard tomorrow in the forenoon j shall be deprived of your brother’s[261] assistance, who was so good as to come post from Canterbury on Sunday last on purpose, and must set out again for the same place at noon tomorrow.... This day the House of Commons are to be adjourned till after the hollydays, and it is talked that the Session will be at an end by the beginning of March. The opposition has been carried on with a great deal of Spirit and will be continued to be so after Xmas, as it is given out. They intend to make a new ministry wade through more mire, though they have gone through so much already. They have got themselves more enemies in the short time they have been in, than Lord Orford in his long reign, for they are ruining their country faster than ever he did, and this infamous job of the Hanoverian Troops, it’s thought was what he never would give way to. Several of our young Members have greatly distinguished themselves by their opposition, and made it appear that there is no want of the parts and capacity of those who have so perfidiously deserted them and the cause of liberty. But none has done it so eminently as Mr. Pit(t),[262] who in the opinion of several, as well as me, is a greater man than ever j have sat with, and if he preserves his integrity, will be transmitted to posterity in the most illustrious of characters. He is at least equal, if not superior to Mr. Murray,[263] who has been brought into the House on purpose to contend with him, and who did the first day of his entrance by saying everything the cause would bear in so good a manner, that he gave nobody offence, which makes me believe he will not serve the ministry in the slavish, dirty manner other attorneys and solicitor generals are wont to do, but with more dignity to himself, if not with more advantage to their cause....
“I hope you will, along with this, receive Mr. Hervey’s lucubration. If Lord Shaftesbury’s ‘Characteristics’ are among my books, Wear shall bring them down....
“It is with much pleasure j acquaint you Lady Sandwich[264] was on Saturday morning at 4 o’clock safely brought to bed of a Son.”[265]
[261] Thomas Robinson.
[262] William Pitt, 1st Earl of Chatham, born 1708, died 1778; “the great commoner.”
[263] William Murray, 1st Earl of Mansfield, born 1705, died 1793.
[264] Wife of the 4th Earl of Sandwich, cousin of Mr. Montagu’s.
[265] John, afterwards 5th Earl of Sandwich.
In writing to the Duchess of Portland on December 28 to wish her a happy new year, Mrs. Montagu informs her she has permission from Dr. Sandys to move towards London in a fortnight’s time. She says—
“I shall move as slowly as a fat corpse in a herse. Your grace asks me if I have left off footing and tumbling down stairs; as to the first, my fidgetations are much spoiled, sometimes I have cut a thoughtless caper which has gone to the heart of an old Steward of Mr. Montagu’s, who is as honest as ‘Trusty’ in the play of Grief à la Mode. I am told he has never heard a hop that he has not echoed with a groan. I have taken such heed to my goings I have not gone down stairs more than by gradual degrees.”
The following passage from a letter of Mrs. Donnellan’s to Mrs. Montagu shows the price paid for embroidery of flowers which was much used at this time on dresses. She says—
“I have spoken to Jenny Clegg about your sack. She always works according to the price, the slightest trimming down to the bottom, of natural flowers she says will be £8, and the handsomest £12, and between in proportion. I gave her 4 guineas for my apron, and she has always three and a half or four for the robings and facings of a night dress.”
A “night dress” was what we should call an evening dress now.
In a letter to Mrs. Donnellan a light is thrown on that ever-important functionary, a cook. That individual being required, Mrs. Donnellan had mentioned a cook who had been with Lady Selina Bathurst. Mrs. Montagu writes—
“As to the Cook being an Irish woman, I think it can be no objection to me who prefer a lady[266] of that country to almost any one of our own; she being a good catholick is not much, but I think it will not be right to take her unless Lady Selina Bathurst says she is a good cook, for had she all the cardinal virtues, and could not fricasy (sic) and make good soop (sic) I should not know what to do with her. I would give £15 a year to a very good cook, but if she is not above being improved, and I could get her to go into the King’s kitchen, or to any famous Tavern to learn cookery, I would give a guinea or two for her teaching, and I heard that in the places I mention they will take in a person upon such terms. I suppose she will dress meat on fast days? I like the character of the woman provided she has had the smallpox, as I would not have any person in the house who might run me into the hazard.”
[266] Mrs. Donnellan was Irish.
The three Robinson boys were taken by young Mr. Edward Carter to York, placed in the coach to London, and were met by Griffith, a valet of Mr. Montagu’s in London, Mr. Montagu taking them in in Dover Street, and despatching them with a servant to Canterbury, en route for Mount Morris.
On December 28 Mrs. Montagu writes to her husband she trusts to set out for London on January 9, and hopes to accomplish the journey in ten or eleven days! The Chancery suit had been deferred till January 13. A letter of Thomas Robinson’s regretting his inability to leave the Kentish Sessions held at Maidstone contains this passage, “I have already two or three retainers for that day, and have generally the good fortune to be employed in every cause, which makes the gains of the day considerable.”... He winds up with saying he has delivered his brief of the Montagu case to Mr. Fawcet, who, he is sure, will make better use of it than he should.
And so ends the year 1742.