TO THE HON. H. S. CONWAY. Arlington-street, April 19, 1764. I AM just come from the duchess of Argyll's,1 where I dined. General Warburton was there, and said it was the report at the House of Lords that you are turned out-He imagined, of your regiment—but that I suppose is a mistake for the bedchamber. I shall hear more to-night, and lady Strafford, who brings you this, will tell you; though to be sure you will know earlier by the post to-morrow. My only reason for writing is, to repeat to you, that whatever you do I shall act with you. I resent any thing done to you as to myself. My fortunes shall never be separated from yours-except that some time or other I hope yours will be great, and I am content with mine. 3 The Manns go on with the business.-The letter you received was from Mr. Edward Mann, not from Gal's widow. Adieu! I was going to say, my disgraced friend-How delightful to have a character so unspotted, that the word disgrace recoils on those who displace you! Yours unalterably. TO THE HON. H. S. CONWAY. Strawberry-hill, Saturday-night, eight o'clock, April 21, 1764. I WRITE to you with a very bad head-ache; I have passed a night, for which *** and the duke of *** shall pass many an uneasy one! Notwithstanding I heard from every body I met, that your regiment, as well as bedchamber, were taken away, I would not believe it, till last night the duchess of Grafton 1 Widow of John Campbell, duke of Argyle. She was sister to general Warburton, and had been maid of honour to queen Anne. [Or.] 2 Mr. Conway was dismissed from all his employments, civil and military, for having opposed the ministry in the House of Commons, on the question of the legality of general warrants, at the time of the prosecution of Mr. Wilkes for the publication of the North Briton.' [Or.] 3 Mr. Walpole was then in the Lynn in Norfolk. [Or.] 4 Of army-clothiers. [Or.] House of Commons, member for King's told me, that the night before the duchess of * * * * * said to her, "Are not you very sorry for poor Mr. Conway? He has lost every thing." When the witch of Endor pities, one knows she has raised the devil. I am come hither alone to put my thoughts into some order, and to avoid showing the first sallies of my resentment, which I know you would disapprove; nor does it become your friend to rail. My anger shall be a little more manly, and the plan of my revenge a little deeper laid than in peevish bons-mots.' You shall judge of my indignation by its duration. In the mean time, let me beg you, in the most earnest and most sincere of all professions, to suffer me to make your loss as light as it is in my power to make it: I have six thousand pounds in the funds; accept all or what part you want. Do not imagine I will be put off with a refusal. The retrenchment of my expenses, which I shall from this hour commence, will convince you that I mean to replace your fortune as far as I can. When I thought you did not want it, I had made another disposition. You have ever been the dearest person to me in the world. You have shown that you deserve to be so.-You suffer for your spotless integrity.—Can I hesitate a moment to show that there is at least one man who knows how to value you? The new will, which I am going to make, will be a testimonial of my own sense of virtue. One circumstance has heightened my resentment. If it was not an accident, it deserves to heighten it. The very day on which your dismission was notified, I received an order from the Treasury for the payment of what money was due to me there. Is it possible that they could mean to make any distinction between us? Have I separated myself from you? Is there The following lines appear in the Gentleman's Magazine for May, 1764. "On General Conway's Dismission. “Should future annals the strange story tell, that spot on earth where I can be suspected of having paid court? Have I even left my name at a minister's door since you took your part? If they have dared to hint this, the pen that is now writing to you will bitterly undeceive them. I am impatient to see the letters you have received, and the answers you have sent. Do you come to town? If you do not, I will come to you to-morrow se'nnight, that is, the 29th. I give no advice on any thing, because you are cooler than I am -not so cool, I hope, as to be insensible to this outrage, this villany, this injustice! You owe it to your country to labour the extermination of such ministers! I am so bad a hypocrite, that I am afraid of showing how deeply I feel this. Yet last night I received the account from the duchess of Grafton with more temper than you believe me capable of: but the agitation of the night disordered me so much, that lord John Cavendish, who was with me two hours this morning, does not, I believe, take me for a hero. As there are some who I know would enjoy my mortification, and who probably designed I should feel my share of it, I wish to command myself—but that struggle shall be added to their bill. I saw nobody else before I came away but Legge,' who sent for me and wrote the enclosed for you. He would have said more both to you and lady Ailesbury, but I would not let him, as he is so ill however, he thinks himself that he shall live. I hope he will! I would not lose a shadow that can haunt these ministers. I feel for lady Ailesbury, because I know she feels just as I do-and it is not a pleasant sensation. I will say no more, though I could write volumes. Adieu! Yours, as I ever have been and ever will be. TO THE HON. H. S. CONWAY. Arlington-street, April 24, 1764. I REJOICE that you feel your loss so little: that with dignity and propriety does not surprise me. To have you act you 2 The right hon. Henry Bilson Legge, uncle to the earl of Dartmouth, and sometime chancellor of the Exchequer : he died 23d August 1764. [Ed.] Of his employments. [Or.] behave in character and with character, is my first of all wishes; for then it will not be in the power of man to make you unhappy. Ask yourself—Is there a man in England with whom you would change character? Is there a man in England who would not change with you? Then think how little they have taken away! For me, I shall certainly conduct myself as you prescribe. Your friend shall say and do nothing unworthy of your friend. You govern me in every thing but one: I mean the disposition I have told you I shall make. Nothing can alter that but a great change in your fortune. In another point, you partly misunderstood me. That I shall explain hereafter. I shall certainly meet you here on Sunday, and very cheerfully. We may laugh at a world in which nothing of us will remain long but our characters. Yours eternally. To GEORGE MONTAGU, Esq. Arlington-street, May 10, 1764. I HOPE I have done well for you, and that you will be content with the execution of your commission. I have bought you two pictures, No. 14, which is by no means a good picture, but it went so cheap and looked so old-fashionably, that I ventured to give eighteen shillings for it. The other is very pretty, No. 17; two sweet children, undoubtedly by sir Peter Lely. This costs you four pounds ten shillings; what shall I do with them-how convey them to you? The picture of lord Romney, which you are so fond of, was not in this sale, but I remains with lady Sidney. I bought for myself much the best picture in the auction, a fine Vandyke of the famous lady Carlisle and her sister Leicester, in one piece: it cost me nine-andtwenty guineas. suppose In general, the pictures did not go high, which I was glad of, that the vulture, who sells them, may not be more enriched than could be helped. There was a whole length of sir Henry Sidney,' which I should have liked, but it went for fifteen Sir Henry Sidney, the friend and confident of Edward VI., lord presi guineas. Thus ends half the glory of Penshurst! Not one of the miniatures was sold. I go to Strawberry to-morrow for a week. When do you come to Frogmore? I wish to know, because I shall go soon to Park-place, and would not miss the visit you have promised Adieu ! me. TO THE HON. H. S. CONWAY. Yours ever. Arlington-street, June 5, 1764. You will wonder that I have been so long without giving you any signs of life; yet, though not writing to you, I have been employed about you, as I have ever since the 21st of April; a day your enemies shall have some cause to remember. I had writ nine or ten sheets of an answer to the Address to the Public, when I received the enclosed mandate. You will see my masters order me, as a subaltern of the exchequer, to drop you and defend them-but you will see, too, that instead of obeying, I have given warning. I would not communicate any part of this transaction to you, till it was out of my hands, because I knew your affection for me would not approve my going so far-But it was necessary. My honour required that I should declare my adherence to you in the most authentic manner. I found that some persons had dared to doubt whether I would risk every thing for you. You see by these letters that Mr. Grenville himself had presumed so. Even a change in the administration, however unlikely, might happen before I had any opportunity of declaring myself; and then those who should choose to put the worst construction, either on my actions or my silence, might say what they pleased. I was waiting for some opportunity: they have put it into my hands, and I took care not to let it slip. Indeed they have put more into my hands, which I have not let slip neither. Could I expect they would give me so absurd an account of Mr. Grenville's conduct, and give it me in wri dent of Wales, and lord deputy of Ireland, in the reign of Elizabeth. He was the father of the celebrated sir Philip Sidney. [Ed.] The paper here alluded to does not appear. [Or.] |