“On Tuesday we are to go about the town and canvass, where an entertainment will be prepared for the Burgesses, who will to-morrow night be treated with their wives, with a ball for them only, a thing intirely new and which must produce something new and out of the common. On Friday we shall be at liberty to move off, but on Monday night we are to meet and entertain the Londoners at the King’s Head, Holbourn.”

“I am living in the very house my dear Mrs. Boscawen inhabited three years ago. At the Stone Castle reside Mr. Pitt, Mr. and Mrs. West and Miss West. Instead of making parties at Whist or Cribbage, and living with and like the beau monde, we have been wandering about like a company of gipsies, visiting all the fine parks and seats in the neighbourhood.”

“I have been this morning to hear the man who has a surprising manner of throwing his voice into the Drawer, a bottle, your pocket, up the chimney, or where he pleases within a certain distance.... I was last night at Mr. King’s, we had the Orrery and an astronomical lecture.”

“I intend to be with you on Thursday.... I find Mr. Pitt has some intentions, as I told you when you was here, of going to Heys, in case he should not be well enough to take the long journey he intends, and he seems much pleased that I will lend him that little tenement; but as I apprehend a feather bed more will be wanted than used to be, I propose to send one from Hill Street.... Mr. Pitt leaves this place to-morrow, he is now going to Dr. Ascough’s, and from thence to Stowe[54] and Hagley.[55] Mr. West goes to Stowe with him.”

“Sandleford, September 27, 1753.

“My most honoured Cousin,

“Your kind and agreeable letter restored me in some measure to the temper I lost at going out of town the very day you came to it. I know not what poets may find in the country, when they have filled the woods with sylvan Deities, and the rivers with Naides; but to me groves and streams and plains make poor amends for the loss of a friend’s conversation. You have better supplied Mr. Pitt’s absence by reading the Orations of his predecessor, Demosthenes, and I can easily imagine you would rather have passed the evening with the British than the Grecian Demosthenes, whom in talents perhaps he equals, and in grace of manners and the sweet civilities of life, I dare say he excels. But when you seem to say you would even have preferred the simple small talk of your poor cousin to the Athenian Orator, I cry out,—Oh wondrous power of friendship, which like the sun gives glorious colours to a vapour, and brightens the pebble to a gem, till what would have been neglected by the common herd is accepted by the most distinguished.... On Tuesday morning about eight o’clock I called upon Mr. Hooke at his hermitage. I found him like a true Savant surrounded by all the elements of Science, but though I roamed round the room, I could not perceive any signs of the Author, no papers, pen, ink, or sheets just come from the press. I fear the fine ladies and fine prospects of Cookham divert his attention from the Roman History.... I desired him to carry me to Mrs. Edwin’s, which I heard was a pretty place.[56] There is an old ferry woman who crosses the Thames very often before Mrs. Edwin’s terrace.... While we were in Mrs. Edwin’s garden he betrayed my name to her ... she came down, showed me her house and the pictures, which are very fine, but the views from her windows gave one no leisure to consider the works of art.... Cliefden Hill rises majestically in view, and the only flat shore you see from this place lies straight before it, and is a large plain of the finest verdure and full of cattle.”

“I am glad your journey to Sandleford was relieved by the agreeable digression you made to Cookham, where I hope to find, at least in the memory of Mr. Hooke, the vestiges of your having been there, which will be an additional motive to me to make him a visit from Stoke, for I am going once more from Wickham, notwithstanding the neighbourhood of Sir Thomas Robinson,[57] the Archbishop,[58] and Bower, and the arrival of my Urn, which is to come this very day, and which Mr. Cheer hath taught me to consider as an emblem and monument of the polished, elegant and accomplished Mrs. Montagu, by assuring me ‘that it is indebted for all the extraordinary and highly finished ornaments he hath bestowed upon it, to the great regard and veneration he hath for her, and that he will not either for love or money make such another.’ ... I was paying a visit at Fulham, where I enjoyed the smiles of my beloved Bishop,[59] the presence of Mrs. Sherlock, and the agreeable conversation of Mrs. Chester, with the more substantial delicacies of an excellent English Venison Pasty.”

“The Duke and Duchess of Portland, with two of their daughters, dined here last Thursday, and we are to make them a morning’s visit to-morrow at Bullstrode. Her Grace was extremely courteous and obliging to me, but never made any inquiry after you, which piqued me so much, that I put her against her upon talking about Mr. Botham, and from what she said about the distrest situation of his family, took occasion to extol you as the most generous and sincere friend, and indeed the only one the poor man could depend on.”

“I was very kindly received both at Bullstrode and Cookham; at the former we were shown a great many fine and great many curious things, both in doors and without; the day proved too cold, and I was not enough recovered to see all the rarities of the animal as well as the vegetable kind, which were dispersed over the Park and gardens. Those that might be seen from the windows, as some spotted Sheep and a little Bull from Fort St. David’s, whose resemblance I have often seen in China ware, I beheld with admiration and applause, and ventured two steps into the garden to take a view of the orange trees against the wall.... Her Grace promised to make me a present of some trained up for that purpose. In her closet we were shown some curious works in Shells, performed by Mrs. Delany, whom her Grace expected at Bullstrode in a short time, and expressed great pleasure and not a little impatience in the prospect of seeing so dear and so ingenious a friend. Of you she said nothing, till upon her naming Mrs. Donnellan, I said I could give her some account of her, having been informed by you that she was gone to town; she then asked when I heard from you, and where you was, but carried her enquiry after you no further. At Cookham I spent some hours with Mrs. Stanley, for Mr. Hooke had gone out with Mrs. Edwin to make a visit to Dr. Freind....” He further states that he found his mother well, and “very little alter’d since I last saw her, excepting that she has grown a little fatter, a circumstance to a woman of seventy is greatly preferable to wrinkles. In my way thro’ Stowe Park I met Miss Banks riding out with Lord Vere,[62] of her I enquired much about Mr. Pitt, and received from her the same answer, which I must have made for your enquiries after him, that they had heard nothing of him since he left Stowe.... While he staid at Stowe he was in good health and spirits, he went from thence to Hagley, and she believed he intended to go from Hagley to Bath.”

“I have taken a little house on tryal at Kensington Gravel Pits ... both Richardson’s house at Northend and Mrs. Granville’s at Chelsey I think too low for me.... I want you to read ‘Sir Charles Grandison,’ it is not formed on your plan of banishing delicacy. I am afraid it carrys it too far on t’other side, and is too fine spun, but there are fine things and fine characters in it, and I don’t know how it is, but his tediousness gives one an eagerness to go on; there is a love-sick madness that I think extremely fine and touching, but if you have not read it I must not forestall. I think I will own to you, the great fault of my friend’s writings, there is too much of everything. I really laughed at your nursery of ‘Clarissas,’ but I hope you did not think of me as the old nurse, there was nobody there while I stayed!”

“Tho’ I am told I may go to town, I know it would not be agreeable where I ought to please, and I can hardly think it right to be in such haste to quit the place where I live most in the manner I ought to do, where only I am useful. I relieve the distresses and animate the industry of a few, and have given all my hours to the two girls under my care, whose welfare, whose eternal welfare perhaps, depends on what they shall now learn.”

“The 27th of December, 1753.

“And what, my dear Cousin, are both hands prisoners of the gout! such innocent hands too! Hands that never open’d to receive or give a bribe, that never dipped into the guilt of the South Sea fraud, of Charitable Corporations, or pilfer’d lottery tickets, clean even from perquisite in office, and the most modest means by which the Miser’s palm wooes and sollicits gain. So far have your hands been from grasping at other’s gold, they have not held fast your own with a tenacious grip, but open’d liberally at the petitions of the poor, for the productions of Art, or to feast your friends at the genial board. Most of all do I resent the fate of the writing hand, which was first dedicated to the Muses, then with maturer judgment consecrated to the Nymphs of Solyma, and shall it be led captive by the cruel gout? Why did you sing the triumphs[63] of the dire goddess? Oh, why could you not describe them unfelt, as Poets often do the softer pains and gentler woes of Venus and her Son?”

“The Revd. Docʳ Botham,
“These.”

“Sir,

“According to your desire by the honour of your Last, I send you the Bill of the two Miss’s Botham, your daughters, to ye first of this month, altho’ wee had spoak of it before the Holydays I had quite forgot it, and was very easy on that account. I hope, Sir, that you’r satisfied of us, if so I shall alwise thry, as well as my wife, to do all wee can to improve your daughters in everything, especially in their Morals and manners. I was very sorry of your last indisposition, and hope you’r much better, it is the sincere wish of

“E. Sage Roberts.

“Kensington, the 20th January, 1754.

“P.S.—My wife with her compliments to you joyns with me in compts. of the Saison, wishing you health, prosperity and all you can wish yourself for many years.”

“The two Miss’s Botham’s Bill.

“I hope you had a pleasant journey, and arrived without fatigue. You are proceeding quietly and well at Huntingdon, while many are hustling with infinite animosity in other Boroughs. The votes are eleven hundred paid a piece at Bury as I am informed.... Morris is very busy with the Canterbury Voters, he does not like them so well as law Clients.”

“I have had a letter to-day from my brother Robinson, informing me that he is chosen along with Creed; Mr. Best declined the Poll. My brother has carried his Election without expence.... I cannot take leave of you without expressing my pride and satisfaction in seeing you again enter the House of Commons, where you have behaved with such steadiness and integrity. I have a joy and pride whenever I reflect on any part of your moral character. May your virtues meet with the happiness they deserve!”

“I am sorry Mrs. Carter (the grandmother), has set her heart so much on having her granddaughter with her, she is of the proper age to receive instruction and take impressions; a few years passed innocently will not leave her as amiable a subject as she is now, her mind will be less flexible.... Mr. Pitt drank tea with me this afternoon; he has recovered his health entirely, if one may judge by his looks. He tells me he has built a very good house at Bath for £1200. He mention’d to me his intention of going on Saturday to Wickham to propose the place at Chelsea to Mr. West, the offer will certainly be an agreeable one.”

“The place is call’d a thousand pounds a year, it is in the gift of Mr. Pitt, and was given with grace that few know how to put into any action ... they have excellent lodgings annexed to the place.... Mr. Pitt dined with them on Saturday; I imagine he was very happy, but he so well deserved to be so. It is a fine thing to act the part of Providence and bless the good. Miss Carter was sent for by her old grandmother, last week she left me.”

“My brother Robinson came to town last night; he dined here to-day, and we are all going to Vauxhall, where Mr. Tyers has had the ruins of Palmyra painted in the manner of the scenes so as to deceive the eye and appear buildings.”

“The town is in great agitation about Elizabeth Canning; she is condemn’d to Transportation, but her guilt is so far from appearing certain, that the Sheriffs refuse to conduct her among the other felons. All the Aldermen but Sir Crispe Gascoigne[65] petition in her behalf, all the great officers of the State almost, interpose for her, and the Archbishop of Canterbury also desires that she may have a decent person of her own sex to attend her over, and then to board in a private family. Some fear there will be a rising of the Mob in her favour; in general all seem to agree that the matter is entirely doubtful. As to Sir Crispe Gascoigne he dare not stir without being guarded.... I wish the whole affair was brought to light, there is great iniquity somewhere.”

“Miss Mary Pitt, youngest sister of Mr. Pitt, is come to stay a few days with me, she is a very sensible, modest, pretty sort of young woman, and as Mr. Pitt seem’d to take every civility shown to her as a favour, I thought this mark of respect to her one manner of returning my obligations to him.”

“I made your compliments to the Archbishop and Mrs. Herring, who dined with us the very day I received your letter. He is very well and as amiable and polite as ever. Dick[68] has been very dilligent and very successful in partridge shooting, and t’other day sent the prime fruits of his labours, a landrail, as a present to his Grace of Canterbury.”

“Dr. Mangey kept a curate at Ealing as he did not reside there, but undoubtedly Mr. Botham will discharge the duties of the living he resides at without assistance; the Bishop of London required Mr. Botham’s residence: as the girls and boys are growing up and must soon live with him, they will be better placed at Ealing in a good neighbourhood than at Albury. They will learn nothing there but eating and drinking plentifully of Lord Aylesford, and Mr. Godschall’s house is generally full of poetic Misses, who are addressing each other by the names of Parthenia, Araminta, etc., with now and then a little epistle to Strephon or Damon. I was uneasy whenever they were at home, for fear they should enter into the precieuse character of Mrs. Godschall.”

“I think the vast territories of imagination could not afford any view so pleasing as the meeting of such a son and such a mother; the pictures not only pleased my mind, but warm’d my heart ... that you may at Lady Langham’s age be as well able to take a journey, and your son as well deserve, and as joyfully receive such a visit is my sincerest and most earnest wish ... another pleasure attends you all, and which your benevolence and not your pride will feel, that of setting an example of those various charities, of parent, child, husband and wife, which make the happiness of domestic life; and there is surely more honour in filling well the circle mark’d of Heaven in these spheres of relation, than in running the wild career of Ambition in its most shining track. Indeed there is no part of a conduct that so certainly deserves our approbation as an acquittance of family regards. Actions of a public nature often are inspired by vanity, domestic behaviour has not popular applause for its object, tho’ with the sober judgment, as Mr. Pope says of silence, ‘its very want of voice makes it a kind of fame.’”

“I have the honour to agree with my dearest and most excellent cousin in looking upon writing letters as one of the evils of Human Life, and for that reason I have always declined engaging in a correspondence of that kind with anybody but her, tho’ I was once invited to it by the great Mr. Pope.... I am now turning my thoughts towards Chelsea, where I hope to be settled for the whole winter by the beginning of next month. My Mother and Mrs. Ives[69] go from hence to my brother’s[70] house in the country, where they will remain a week or ten days, and from there return to Lillingston.[71] Mr. and Mrs. Dayrell were prevented by the death of two of his Aunts from making us a visit at Wickham, by which accident and the absence of my sister Molly, my Mother lost the opportunity of exhibiting the pleasing picture of a Hen gathering with a careful and maternal tenderness all her chickens at once under her wings, but she will have them by turns.”

“I am impatient to wait on you; all the horses and all the Maids have been taken up with Wey Hill Fair,[72] now I hope to hire a couple of cart-horses: I dare not venture with a common postboy and horses, because the postboys are not used to a four-wheeled chaise, nor the Road I must go.... I wish you joy of a pleasure for life at least, the good you have done to Mr. Botham and his family.... I am pleased you have hired the wood, now one may walk in the bowling green without coveting what is your neighbour’s. I hope hiring is a step to purchasing; laying field to field is a natural thought and not a blameable one, when no injustice is meant. I have often thought what a pretty place Sandleford would be if it was bounded by the little river, Newbury Wash, and Greenham Heath.”

“A Buck, we are told, is come to Grateley, his name is Mitchell, he has laid out a £1000 in furnishing it completely, altho’ he could not be sure of having it more than a year. He intends to keep Stags in the paddocks, and turn them out on the Downs, which will give him fine chases. He says the Drawing room is a good drinking room.”

“two hundred pounds a year, his house a very pretty one, a good garden with a great deal of wall fruit, and there is a neighbourhood of genteel people, who have all shown him great civility.... Mr. Hateley is still with us, he has made a very pretty Landskip (sic) with Eloisa, and her figure is pretty, her face amiably triste. He has done my portrait so like, and got a good likeness, and with a spirit in the countenance and attitude that is very uncommon.”