Samuel Horsley, Bishop successively of St. David's, Rochester, and St. Asaph, was the great opponent of Priestly and the Unitarians, against whom several of his charges were directed.
Pennant's account of the home of Mrs. Piozzi's ancestors runs thus (Tour in Wales, vol. ii. p. 22). "In the bottom [of the Clwyd Valley] lies, half buried in the woods, the singular house of Bachegraig. It consists of a mansion, and three sides, enclosing a square court. The first consists of a vast hall and parlour; the rest of it rises into six wonderful stories, including the cupola, and forms from the second floor the figure of a pyramid: the rooms small and inconvenient. The bricks are admirable, and appear to have been made in Holland; and the model of the house was probably brought from Flanders, where this species of building was not unfrequent. The country people say that it was built by the Devil in one night, and that the Architect still preserves an apartment in it; but Sir Richard Clough, an eminent merchant of Queen Elizabeth's reign, seems to have a better title to the honour. The initials of his name are in iron on the front, with the date 1567, and on the gateway that of 1569." It is stated in Piozziana that the vane bore the date 1537. An account of Sir Richard Clough and Catherine of Berayne has been given in the Introduction, to which the reader is referred.
BACHYGRAIG HOUSE IN 1776
From a drawing by J. Hooper, 1776
Brynbella, Sat. night, 6 or 7 of Sept. 1800.
Dear Mrs. Pennington's eyes yet serve her, I find, to write the very charmingest letters in the world, and Dr. Randolph is of the same opinion; that to the travellers was admirable, and my own, just received, most excellent. They left Wales yesterday, and have carried ugly weather home with them; but I hope and think that the bright sun illuminated their last glimpse of Denbighshire, from the heights round romantic Llangollen. I never saw people so well, or so happy, or so good humoured, on a journey where inconveniences must necessarily arise, such as would teize many tempers accustomed to home life....
What the meaning can be of bread rising is past my power to divine. Wheat falls, and grass grows, and these rains have put out the fires which injured the hilly grounds. Nothing is truer than your observation on men's counteracting Providence in all they can, but of late times some permission seems to have been given them that it should be counteracted. Victory bestows honour on our arms, but produces no good to our nation. Plenty creates no peace, and opulence no wealth among us: I cannot fathom it. We seem upon the eve of a general pacification thro' all Europe, but I scarce expect quiet in any Country, much less our own, to be the consequence of such extensive treaties....
Poor dear Jane Holman complains of the Greatheeds that they were too fine to visit her in London. She is recovering from her severe illness, and will, I hope, be happy, though the world was all displeased at her connection. Mrs. Siddons will have a cruel loss if her husband dies, though he was no professed wit, nor beau, nor Damon, and tho' I doubt me much if he was even the very prudent man folks take him for. Yet will he be a loss, and "Seldom comes a better" is no bad proverb. Her son was expected to make his fortune among the fair at one time, but I now hear no more on't.
Mrs. Wynne, Cecilia's Mother-in-law, is come home to Wales ten years younger than she left it, and infinitely handsomer of course. I do not think that will be my case when I leave home next; but selling my Book advantageously will, I suppose, heighten my bloom. We must have things as they are, as Baretti used to say, when he threw ill at Backgammon. My Master's capital health must keep mine up. I never saw him in better looks, and Mrs. Randolph will tell you how smart he has made old Bach-y-graig, the name of which they both forgot, I'm sure, before two miles were past; and Lord Mountjoy only saw Lleweny.
Whenever Lady Hesketh crosses your walks, say to her how much I respect her, and how glad I feel that the sweet little Princess is to be happy in virtuous and wise attendants on her infancy, Lady Elgin and Miss Hunt.
"Never harm, nor spell, nor charm
Will come that Faery's pillow nigh,
While they sing her lullaby."
Brynbella is the fashion. We have people coming to take views from it, and travellers out of number,—Tourists, as the silly word is. Miss Thrales are among the Lakes, I believe these are modish places now for summer, as for winter modish Streets. Comical enough! Yet the general face of things must be confessed very gloomy, though Stocks rise, and that comforts many who look superficially, or never look at all beyond Finsbury Square and Hyde Park Corner. My fear is lest Mr. Pitt may be one of those: if such the case, he will be amazed whenever the evil moment comes, which would only give grief, not amaze, yours
H. L. P.
John, fourth Earl of Bute, son of the Minister, was made Viscount Mountjoy, Earl of Windsor, and Marquess of Bute in 1796.
The Lady Hesketh here mentioned seems to have been Harriet, daughter and coheir of Ashley Cowper, who married Thomas Hesketh of Rufford, afterwards created a Baronet. She was the cousin and favourite correspondent of Cowper the poet, and died at Clifton 1807. Lady Elgin, the other attendant of the little Princess of Wales, was the wife of Thomas the seventh Earl, best known as the collector of the Elgin Marbles.
The prospect of a general peace proved fallacious. After the battle of Marengo in June, operations were suspended by the armistice of Alessandria, but peace was not concluded, and Austria, urged on by England, recommenced hostilities at the end of the year.