GUARDIANSHIP OF THE CHILDREN
Whilst Webby was at Petworth with Ld. Egremont, I wrote him a letter under cover to Ld. E., in which, after inquiring how he was, I conveyed my sense of Ld. E.’s kindness, adding that it was such that it claimed the gratitude of all his family. Before this letter reached Petworth Ld. E. had brought him to town to his grandmother’s and the Chaplins, and I have not received a word of acknowledgment, which seems unnecessarily harsh. This behaviour in Chaplin is the more remarkable, as he has uniformly assured me that he would use his utmost endeavours to persuade Sir G. to let me see the children. This assurance I have under his hand and signature. Besides, he was quite cordial when I married Ld. H., wished me joy, and wound up his congratulatory sentence with a sort of prophecy that I should be happy, as my disposition was of a domestic turn, and that I had never hitherto had a fair opportunity of showing the real goodness of my heart. He visited Ld. H. and me, the year after, when he came to town, and, in short, rather affected a sort of intimacy of intercourse. I shall set every engine to work to counteract these unjust projects.
A few days ago I asked Ld. Stair[127] just to mention, the first occasion he could find naturally, to Ld. Egremont how grateful I felt for his tenderness to my child. He did, and brought back a civil reply. I consulted Ld. S. about asking Ld. E. to do something towards getting me the facility of seeing my children. He told me he was a real good-hearted man, but one who was habitually indolent and to a degree timid as to meddling in other people’s concerns, but that tho’ he would do nothing for me, yet he was incapable of doing anything against. However, yesterday, to my great delight, Ld. Stair told me he had de son chef had a conversation with Ld. E., who not only was not averse to me, but offered to call and explain all he knew about my children’s concerns, and would undertake to advise Chaplin to be more tractable. Ld. Stair advised me to write a letter of acknowledgment to Ld. E., which I did last night. Thus I have the sanction of one of the most respectable and worthy persons in my favour.
Sheridan dined with us last Friday; Mrs. S.[128] was to have come, but she was ill from having sung too much. He was in a very playful vein of humour, and, without any marked trait of wit, all he said was pleasant. Lewis was a self-invited guest, to prove to me that he and William Lamb were cordial friends, who he knew dined with us; but he failed in that attempt, as Lamb complained that he followed him like his shadow, and bored him insufferably. Sheridan told a story of a sale of plants near his house. The trees were ticketed with their names. Two country gentlemen read a ‘Dacious cypress,’ ‘This must be wrong,’ said one, ‘there is no such word: I will make it right,’ and with his pencil he wrote ‘Audacious.’ When the little, puny deciduous cypress appeared with such a tremendous name, the whole auction room shouted with laughter. He said formerly the managers of the two theatres used to send people to hiss and disturb the actors at new plays. One night an actor complained to Garrick that the new tragedy was interrupted and would get damned, as a Covent Garden man was in the pit laughing. ‘Never mind,’ said Garrick, ‘I shall be revenged, for I have a man fast asleep at their new comedy.’
Bedford House is pulling down, and the Duke is building a new square.[129] He has some idea of erecting a statue of Ld. Russell; I advised him to get Mr. Fox to write the prose inscription, Fitzpatrick the verse, and Dr. Parr the Latin. If he should raise the monument he will adopt my hint. Serjeant Lens surprised me by saying that should this statue be erected, the populace would in all probability pull it down. If so, public opinion has undergone a strange revolution, as he was a martyr whom patriots worshipped,—‘That cause for which Russell and Sidney bled.’
19th June.—I went yesterday to Hampton Court, where I slept. Ld. H. rode over to St. Anne’s, and joined me at night. In a small corner of the Palace erected by William now lives the Stadtholder[130] and the Princess of Orange, fugitives from those dominions their ancestor quitted to govern these: a reflection that must be accompanied with pangs of regret and mortification.
On the 19th, I went by water to Kingston Bridge, where I found my mother, Sir Gilbert, Henry,[131] and Mr. Francis. In the evening we all went to the Opera.
STATE OF THE WAR
Genoa is taken, Melas seems to have changed positions with Masséna. Bonaparte is beyond Milan and restoring the Cisalpine Governts.
Francis says whilst the French armies are performing prodigies of valour, traversing impossible mts., dragging artillery over steep crags, disposing of empires, extending conquests, etc., we hear our own exploits, performed by an immense fleet sailing up and down the Channel, to be a descent upon France, and the victor’s spoil ‘three pieces of iron cannon and twenty-five cows.’ Maitland[132] commands the expedition which has been directed again against Quiberon; the most he can do will be to singe here and there the coast of France.