George Selwyn: His Letters and His Life. George Augustus Selwyn
official life ended. No public man who attains to Cabinet rank can be regarded as a failure, and it may be that he was satisfied with what he had achieved by the age of five-and-thirty. With a versatility and serenity rare among those who have once felt the pleasure and excitement of political power and responsibility, he turned to literature, and at Castle Howard and Naworth he produced poems and dramas which, in spite of Byron's sharp attack, who thus avenged himself for the inattention of his guardian on his entrance to public life,* though they have had no posthumous fame, gave him a reputation in his day as a man of letters, which was probably a higher satisfaction than would have been the rewards of a political career alone. And it threw him into closer connection with men of literary and artistic tastes and aims. Of his writings the poem addressed to Reynolds on his resignation of the Presidency of the Royal Academy is perhaps that which is best worth recollecting. Carlisle's cultivated mind made him always a liberal patron, and at the sale of the celebrated Orleans collection of paintings he bought the greater part.
* Carlisle and Byron were not only guardian and ward, but were nearly related; it is a singular fact that Carlisle declined to introduce him in the house of Lords.
Selwyn's letters open with the departure of Lord Carlisle for the Continent. The young peer was then not quite twenty, but had fallen desperately in love with Lady Sarah Bunbury. This beautiful and attractive woman had half London at her feet, including the King. For obvious constitutional reasons it was impossible for him to marry her, but day after day the town told how he used to ride to and fro in front of Holland House to catch a glimpse of Lady Sarah. At the drawing room after the royal marriage, at which, by the wish of the King, she was first bridesmaid, Lord Westmoreland, who was an adherent of the Stuarts, knelt to Lady Sarah, mistaking her for the Queen. Selwyn said "the lady in waiting should [must] have told him that she was the Pretender."*
* "Memoirs of third Duke of Grafton," p. 33.
Paris was no more able to resist her than London. "Votre milady Sarah a en un succes prodigieux; toute notre belle jeunesse en a eu la tete tournee, sans la trouver fort jolie, toutes les principantes et les divinites du temple l'ont recherchee avec une grande emulation. Je ne l'ai point vue assez de suite pour avoir pu bien demeler ce qu'on doit pensez d'elle; je la trouve aimable, elle est douce, vive et polie. Dans notre nation elle passerait pour etre coquette. Je ne crois pas qu'elle le soit; elle aime a se divertir; elle a pu etre flattee de tous les empressements qu'on lui a marquees, et je soupconne qu'elle s'y est livree plus pour l'apparence que par un gout veritable. Je lui ai soupconne quelques motifs cachees, et je lui crois assez d'esprit pour avoir trouve nos jeunes gens bien sots. Si vous etes de ses amies, elle vous dira ce qui en est."*
* "Correspondance complete du Mme. du Deffand," vol. i. P87.
The letters for the succeeding year contain frequent references to Carlisle's youthful passion. Lord Holland had taken his family abroad, and Charles James Fox, whose brilliant public career Carlisle had foretold in verse at Eton, was a congenial companion during a part of his continental travels.
Carlisle at this epoch of his life is an interesting study. Here is a boy of nineteen voluntarily leaving home because of a fascinating woman; he is anxiously awaiting the delayed green ribbon, and his investiture by the King of Sardinia. He is in close association with the foremost men of that and a later day. For three days he is crossing the Alps, a journey filled with as many hopes or fears of adventure as could have befallen one a century earlier.
At the time when the correspondence begins, Selwyn's friend, the third Duke of Grafton, was virtually Prime Minister, or as it was then termed, "principal Minister," for the personal ministerial responsibility of the head of the Government was, in the days of Chatham, Grafton, and North, less distinct and less recognised than in the nineteenth century. Chatham still held the office of Lord Privy Seal, which he had accepted on the formation of his Ministry in 1766. But by this time ill-health had rendered him unable to take any part in public affairs. In October, 1768, Chatham resigned office, and Grafton became the recognised head of a Ministry the policy of which he was incapable either of formulating or directing; and when in January, 1770, Grafton resigned office and handed over the Ministry to Lord North, it released him from a trying and irksome position.
Kindly and shrewd in worldly affairs, and well intentioned as a politician, but wholly lacking in strength of purpose, the third Duke of Grafton was a man who obtained the goodwill and lost the respect of his contemporaries. Between Selwyn and him there existed a cordial friendship, of which there are many evidences in these letters.
It is time, however, to let the correspondence speak for itself; as has been already said, Carlisle was now at Nice.
[1767,] Dec. 29, Tuesday, de mon Chateau de Tonderdentronk.(1)—I received your letter of the 8th and 10th, that is, one part wrote at Antibes, the other at Nice, here yesterday, which gave me every degree of pleasure and satisfaction that a letter can give; it could never have come more seasonably, than when I cannot possibly, from the snow without doors, and the Aldermen(2) within, have any other pleasure.
As I am well furnished with maps, I had recourse to them to follow you in your travels, and had besides the pleasure of hearing that you were well, and knowing exactly where you are, which was an occupation for the whole morning. The Antiquities of France have furnished me with the knowledge of some places through which you have passed. Mme. de Sevigne(3) did, long ago, bring me acquainted with others; and sure I am that when she was at Rochers, she could not think more of the Pont de Garde than I should have done, if I had known of your being there.
If you do me the honour to give me in future letters so much detail, I shall be infinitely happy. You may be assured that I shall not communicate a letter of yours to any one, not even to L(ady) S(arah),(4) who hinted to me she wanted to see your last, without your leave; but as for burning them directly, I cannot in your absence resolve upon that; je les conserverai pretieusement till your return, and that is all I can promise without your very express commands.
The accident that had like to have happened to you and Charles(5) ma fait glacer le sang. I hope it was not Robert that was so heedless. But that, the wild boars, the Alps, precipices, felouques, changes of climate, are all to me such things as, besides that they grossissent de loin, that if I allowed my imagination its full scope, I should not have a moment's peace.
I shall think no more of anything that may happen unfortunately either to you or me for the next twelve months, than I do in passing from Dover to Calais of the one-inch plank that is between me and Eternity. I have assured myself that as long as the time will appear in passing now, I shall think some time hence its progress not so slow, and I will not add imaginary to real evils, by supposing it possible that I shall not meet you again.
I came down here on this day sevennight, and could I have walked Out—but the deep snow has prevented that—I should have passed my time among my workmen tolerably well.
Lord Lisbourne(6) and Williams(7) were to have come with me, but disappointed me. His lordship was hunting a mare's nest, as they say, and fancied he should be this week nominated either of the Admiralty or Board of Trade. He is fututo de, and Lord Ch[arle]s Spencer(8) is of the first, and no vacancy in the other.
Vernon(9) has Fanshaw's place at the Green Cloth, and this Greasy Cook dismissed with a sop, but of what sort I know not; however, he thinks himself happy that a dish-clout was not pinned to his tail. March(10) is passing Xmas between Lord Spencer's and the Duke of Grafton's.(11) There is no Oubourn;(12) that family has been occupied, and is now, between recovering a little of his Grace's sight, and niggling themselves into Administration.
I believe I told you of Crawfurd's(13) preferment in my letter of last Friday sevennight. I shall return to London the end of this week, and go in search of further news for your entertainment. The journal which you suppose me to keep is no other than minutes I make of what I hear. When you come back from your travels my office of journalist will cease.
I have no one with me but Raton,(14) but he is in great health and beauty. I'm sorry that you told me nothing of poor Rover; pray bring him back if you can, and don't let a Cardinal or any other dog stick it into him.
I find my affairs here, which you are so good as to enquire after, much as I expected