A long letter of Mrs. Montagu’s in reply to the duchess contains some amusing descriptions of the trio—herself, Mrs. “Donn,” and the little Père’s expeditions from Sandleford—
“Yesterday we went to see a very extraordinary place. A gentleman has built a house on the summit of a prodigious hill, where there is not a drop of water nor a stick of wood; he has planted some fir trees which are watered every day by carts that bring the water about three miles; he has sunk a well to the centre of the earth, from whence some laborious horses draw him as much water as may wash his face, or in a liberal hour supply his tea kettle. The winds plays about his house in so riotous a manner, that a person must poise themselves in a very exact manner to maintain their ground and walk on two legs with an erect countenance as it is the glory and pride of human nature to do.... The first house this gentleman built was in a bottom, where the ground was all wet and marshy, overgrown with willows and alders and extremely peopled with frogs; there he found himself ill at ease, and no doubt but in time would have died of a dropsy, as I now fear he will be destroyed by a wind cholick.
“A few days ago we were at Miss Lisle’s wood and grotto; the work of 9 sisters, who in disposition as well as number, bear some resemblance to the Muses. On Monday we think of going to Lady Fane’s[435] grotto.[436] Mrs. Donnellan and I are going to make a shell frame for a looking glass. I think a looking glass to be the properest for the first work, as everybody will be sure to find something they like in it.”
[435] Mary Stanhope, widow of Charles, Viscount Fane, of Basildon; once Maid-of-Honour to Queen Anne.
[436] At Basildon, still called “The Grotto.”
LADY FANE’S GROTTOES —
THE AXLETREE
In the next letter of August 23 is the description of Lady Fane’s grotto—
“The situation is, like most grottoes, placed where a grotto would not be looked for: it joins to the house. Now having told its only defect, I will go on to the rest. The first room is fitted up entirely with shells, the sides and ceiling in beautiful mosaic, a rich cornice of flowers in baskets and cornucopias, and the little yellow sea snail is so disposed in shades as to resemble knots of ribbon which seem to tye up some of the bunches of flowers. There is a bed for the Hermit, which is composed of rich shells, and so shaded that the curtain seems folded and flowing.... The room adjoining it is the true and proper style for a grotto; it is composed of rough rock work in a very bold taste, the water falls down it into a cold bath. This grotto is about 50 yards from the Thames, to which the descent is very precipitate. From the Shell Room you have no advantage of the Thames, from the other room you have a view of it. The House to which this grotto is joined is a small habitation where Lady Fane used to pass a good deal of time. Lord Fane’s seat[437] is about a mile from it: it has not indeed the view of the Thames, but is finely situated in a bower of Beech Wood, and before it a pretty prospect. From the Grotto we went to a Wood by the Thames, where we sat and eat our cold dinner very comfortably. In the afternoon we walked up a hill which commands a fine prospect, the Thames winds about in the manner it does at Cliefden. There is a want of wood, as I think the country rather flat, but the prospect is very extensive; you see Oxford and Reading, one on the right, the other on the left hand. In our road thither one of the wheels took fire and burnt thro’ the axletree.... A wheelwright was apply’d to but he had been carousing at a christening, and was not in that degree of sober sense requisite to make even an axletree. A Justice of the peace whom the King had knighted lived hard by; to him we applyed for a coach, as it was part of his office to send vagrants to the place of their abode. Alas! his coach, which contrary to other things used to rest on the week days and work only on the Sabbath, had not been licensed, to the great inconvenience of his lady and the grief of Carter John, who one day in the week was a coachman.... What was to be done? The sun was declining, we were 20 miles from home.... A good inn with the sign of the Blue Boar, Green Dragon, or Red Lion would have pleased us better than all we had seen, but—Alas! the only village within reach offered us a homely lodging under thatched roofs. We were a party of seven, and might have stormed the village with more ease than the French can Bergen-op-Zoom, but the plunder w’d not have given us a supper, or the place afforded us a lodging. But on finding the uncoached Justice was married to Sir Robert Sutton’s niece,[438] an acquaintance of Mrs. Donnellan’s, she sent her compliments, told our distress, and we were kindly received that night. The wheelwright slept himself sober, the next day made us an axletree, and we came home laughing at our adventures.”
[437] Basildon Park.
[438] Lady Rush.