Lord Errol; as one saw him in a space capable of containing
him, one admired him. At the wedding, dressed
in tissue, he looked like one of the giants in Guildhall,
new gilt. It added to the energy of his person,
that one considered him acting so considerable a part
in that very hall, where so few years ago one saw his
father, Lord Kilmarnock, condemned to the block.
The champion acted his part admirably, and dashed
down his gauntlet with proud defiance. His associates,
Lord Effingham, Lord Talbot, and the Duke of Bedford,
were woful: Lord Talbot piqued himself on his
horse backing down the hall, and not turning its rump
towards the King; but he had taken such pains to dress
it to that duty, that it entered backwards, and at
his retreat the spectators clapped, a terrible indecorum,
but suitable to such Bartholomew-fair doings.
He had twenty demel`es and came out of none creditably.
He had taken away the table of the knights of the Bath,
and was forced to admit two in their old place, and
dine the others in the court of requests. Sir
William Stanhope said, “We are ill-treated,
for some of us are gentlemen.” beckford told
the Earl, it was hard to refuse a table to the city
of london Whom it would cost ten thousand pounds to
banquet the King, and his lordship would repent it
if they had not a table in the Hall; they had.
To the barons of the Cinque-ports, who made the same
complaint, he said, “If you come to me as lord-steward,
I tell you it is impossible; if, as Lord Talbot, I
am a match for any of you:” and then he
said to Lord Bute, “If I were a minister, thus
I would talk to France, to Spain, to the Dutch—none
of your half measures.” This has brought
me to a melancholy topic. Bussy goes tomorrow,
a Spanish war is hanging in the air, destruction is
taking a new lease of mankind—of the remnant
of mankind. I have no prospect of seeing Mr.
Conway. Adieu! I will not disturb you with
my forebodings. You I shall see again in spite
of war, and I trust in spite of Ireland. I was
much disappointed at not seeing your brother John:
I kept a place for him to the last minute, but have
heard nothing of him. Adieu!
This is the most unhappy day I have known of years:
Bussy goes away! Mankind is again given up, to
the sword! Peace and you are far from England!
Strawberry Hill.
I was interrupted this morning, just as I had begun
my letter, by Lord Waldegrave; and then the Duke of
Devonshire sent for me to Burlington-house to meet
the Duchess of Bedford, and see the old pictures from
Hardwicke. If my letter reaches you three days
later, at least you are saved from a lamentation.
Bussy has put off his journey to Monday (to be sure,
you know this is Friday): he says this is a strange
country, he can get no Waggoner to carry his goods
on a Sunday. I am Clad a Spanish war waits for
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