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rheinsbergThis book, "transcribed from the original manuscript at Ickworth and edited by David Erskine" as the front page says, was published in 1754 when David Erskine, a 20th century Hervey descended, talked his grandmother, the then owner of the Hervey papers, into letting him do this. His amusing and very well written introduction proves he has the Hervey literary gift, and I wish I could quote it entirely, but a few choice quotes and paraphrases about the maddest Herveys will have to do. (Lord Hervey the memoirist isn't one of them, and not because David Erskine straightwashes him.)
What the edited manuscript is not: an actual diary. It's evidently based on one, but as Erskine footnotes, you can tell it was written years after the fact not just because Augustus Hervey occasionally interjects remarks like person such and such being dead eight months later, but because he sometimes uses titles the people in question at the time he's ostensibly writing in did not yet have, as for example "Lord Holland" for Henry Fox (who didn't get elevated to that peerage until the end of the 7 Years War, and no, it wasn't inherited, so Augustus at the time could not have known he'd be called that a few years later. Very occasionally, he also leaves out key information which Erskine then provides in a footnote to make himself look better, like leaving out humbling himself and seeking favours from Newcastle whom he just ranted on for page after page after page as the worst and utter scum. The manuskript breaks off mid sentence decades before Augustus' life ends. More censorship by Mr. Victorian Descendant? Augustus didn't continue with transcribing and editing his diaries and/or writing his memoirs - it's not clear which of the two he meant to do? We'll never know. After the manuscript proper, Erskine provides some addenda in the form of letters most interestingly between Lady Hervey (Molly Lepell, widow of Hervey the Memoirist) and Henry Fox (not yet Lord Holland) as well as between Augustus and Henry Fox, all concerning Admiral John Byng, with whom Augustus served at the Battle of Minorca that opened the 7 Years War even before Fritz invated Saxony.cahn, you may or may not recall from Candide that Voltaire alludes to Byng's execution when he has Candide witness an executuion at Portsmouth and is told "in this country, it is good to kill an admiral from time to time to encourage the others".
What happened according to Erskine was essentially that the government made a major miscalculation - they thought the French would try to invade England, so most of the maritime resources were focused there, while Byng was understaffed and under equipped when the actual French attack came at Minorca and lost. Simultanously, there were food riots and other political problems in England. All of this resulted in the blatant scapegoating of Byng by the government. He was blamed completely, put on trial and while the jury found him innocent of cowardice, he was still condemned for not having "done his utmost" and condemned to death. Augustus was a passionate defender of the Admiral, and goes into great detail about the whole affair - not only was he present at the battle and its aftermath, he also testified as a witness in Byng's favour at the trial, though all in vain. Now, the only goverment member he knew because his late father, Hervey the memoirist, had been bff with the Foxes, was Henry Fox, and so Augustus had written to him while still at sea only to find Henry Fox as determined as the rest of the government to serve up Byng as a scapegoat to the populace in order to keep their own jobs. Fox forwards Augustus' letters to Molly with a hint it's better for Augustus' career that they're not archived with the Navy. Molly is concerned for her boy but also, just more tactfully, pleads Byng's case. Henry Fox isn't hating on Byng but cooly pragmatic. A gigantic international war has just broken out, someone has to be guilty for the fact the glorious British navy has just lost to the French, and it certainly won't be Henry and his colleagues in government. As late as 2007, the Byng family still sought a postumous pardon and the Ministry of Defense still refused.
Fritz: See? See?!! Supposedly constitutional monarchies did it, too, and in the same war. Why is everyone on my ass then?
Heinrich: Don't even start.
Anyway, the fate of Byng is by far the most serious subject of the entire book. Otherwise, it's mostly light hearted. In the previous peace time, Augustus is the proverbial sailor with a girl (or several) in every harbour, and Erskine calls him the English Casanova, only better, because his stories are totally true while Casanova "has been unmasked as a liar" (this is news to me, though I don't doubt that Casanova, writing in his Bohemian library as an old man, got things wrong; I also note that the 1950s publication date is decades before the memoirs were re translated and re published from the entire manuscript). One thing that can se said is that as opposed to Casanova, who used pseudonyms for all the ladies, with some able to be identified only because he first used their real names in the manuscript, then scratched it out and wrote the alias over it, Augustus generally goes for real names, as with the Duchess who kidnaps him to have her way with him (in which he delightedly complies). Mind you, he's also a major case of the usual double standard, because in one of the few references to Elizabeth Chudley left by the Victorian descendant in the manuscript, he complains she's not been "a Vestal" in his absence and that's a major reason why he wants to split. Otoh, one of Augustus' sympathetic traits is that when his oldest brother, George - like I said, career Courtier Lord Hervey naming his sons George, Augustus and Frederick, respectively, is so typical - makes noises about wanting to take custody of their younger sisters away from Molly because of her Jacobitism, Augustus immediately goes "I love Mom, and no way!" (Unsurprisingly, he's her favourite among her children.) (If Molly disliked being with children, you won't find any references to it in this book. Of course, it might just be small children she did not get along with, and adults are another matter.)
Augustus is also a good tourist who in peace time takes a lot of shore leave to go sight seeing, which is why we get a description of post Medici, pre Leopold Florence from him. He is under the impression Cosimo was the last of the Medici, though. (Poor Gian Gastone, forgotten already.)
In terms of the previous generation, he mentions his father only in context with his mother - i.e. "my father and mother" knew such and such -; because of how things go with Admiral Byng, he thinks Henry Fox is scum (Newcastle, too, but Hervey the memoirist wasn't friends with Newcastle), but, in a surprising turn of events, likes Fritz of Wales! Fritz of Wales is very nice to him, too, so if the Hervey/Fritz of Wales breakup left bad blood on both sides, apparantly FoW doesn't extend it to Hervey's kids.
(Hervey's ghost: NOT THE LOVE RAT! Augustus, no!!!!!)
Otoh, Augustus isn't impressed with Cumberland the Butcher at all, and this before Cumberland screws up in the 7 Years War.
Now, on to the quotes.
First, from the introduction about the squabbling Hervey clan. Reminder: still headed, when the story starts, by Lord Bristol. Lord Hervey the memoirist was his second son and his favourite; as his first son died childless Lord Hervey would have become the Earl of Bristol after him but died before his father, which means Gramps has to essentially co-raise Hervey's kids with Molly. (Luckily, they got on very well.) Augustus is fond of his grandfather and mourns him when the old man dies. Because nobles use each other's title like that, this also means his own oldest brother, George, goes from being referred to as "my brother Hervey" to "my brother Bristol". Incidentally, all three of Hervey the memoirist's sons would become the Earl of Bristol, because George dies without kids as well, Augustus dies without legitimate kids (though he enlists "Little Augustus", his illegitimate son, as a midshipman with the Navy at age 4 in order to finance him), and then it's Frederick's turn. Augustus and George had their ups and downs, but generally got along. Augustus and Frederick, otoh, became mortal enemies. (This I knew from the book "Courtiers" already, but there assumed the wrong reasons, more about this in a moment.) Writes Erskine:
The Honourable Augustus Hervey, third Earl of Bristol and Vice-Admiral of the Blue, died of 'gout in the stomach' at 6 St. James Square on the 22nd December 1779, aged fifty-five. He was succeeded in the title and entailed estate by his brother Frederick, Bishop of Derry, from whom by his will he alienated all he could, even, it is said, the deer in the park of the family seat at Ickworth.
Because Frederick became an (Anglican) bishop and because of the way Lucy Worsley divides the family between the fun ones (Augustus, Molly, Hervey the memoirist) and the dull moralists (George, Frederick, their sister Lepell and the Victorian scissors wielding guy, most likely Frederick's son, also called Frederick), I thought the Augustus/Frederick feud was for moral reasons. Not so, and Frederick, bishop or not, was far from dull. Or a moralist in the Victorian sense. Erskine's introduction first alerted me to this fact:
The younger brother Frederick features prominently in the latter half of the century, when as "Earl-Bishop" he lived mostly on the continent, travelling about, and leaving there as his permanent memorial a string of Hotels Bristol. What the origin of the implacable feud betwen him and Augustus was, we do not know; as the years went by all hope of ending it vanished, for they took opposing sides in politics, the Bishop supporting Catholic emancipation in Ireland and independence in America, while the Admiral voted against the repeal of the Stamp Act and was a member of Lord North's administration.
An Anglican globetrotting Bishop who supports equal rights for Catholics and American Independence is very much not the norm in the 18th century, so I checked Frederick's wiki entry, and lo, it gets even better. Frederick wasn't just any old Bishop, he became Bishop of Derry. In Ireland, just so there's no doubt. And STILL was pro equal rights for Catholics.
As Bishop of Derry, Hervey quickly developed a reputation for being "the most worldly, most eccentric, most talked-about priest in the Church of Ireland".
Hervey was Derry's most generous philanthropist, although some of the clergy in his diocese came to regard him as cheerfully sadistic, for such instances as when he instructed any portly priests coveting plum promotions to compete in midnight runs through bogs and marshland.
Frederick married and continued the family line, but he also (presumably when in Italy) fell in love with, drum roll, none other than Wilhelmine Encke, Countess of Lichtenau, chief mistress of FW2.
Lucy Worsley, I don't know what you're on about. No way this guy sounds dull and moralistic.
Anyway, in the era covered by this book, Augustus and Frederick are still on talking terms, but Augustus makes very suspicious noises about brother Frederick now and then.
Mind you: the previous generation of Herveys was just as wild. I knew Hervey the memoirist's mother Elizabeth had 17 children, but I never wondered what became of them. Well, Erskine informs me thusly about Lord Hervey's most notorious younger brothers:
The wildest and wickedest were Tom and Harry. Tom must befor ever memorable for eloping with this godfather's young wife and subsequently carrying on a debate in pamphlet form with the injured husband, in the course of which he described the lady as "our wife - for, in heaven, whose wife shall she be?" Harry's youthful scrapes and extravagances had cost his father dearly, until he followed the advice and practice of "the good old Lord", married an heiress and changed his name to Aston. Formerely a cornet of Dragoons he ended his days in Holy Orders; even the Duke of Newcastle (...) must have lefted an eyebrow when Harry's petition for the see of Chester came to his hands. However Tom and Harry have some claim to the gratitude of posterity, for it was they who protected young Samuel Johnson when he first came to London, friendless a nd in need; he at least was grateful to them, saying that though they were both vicious men, Tom was one of the genteelest that ever lived, and that Harry was "very kind to me; if you call a dog Hervey I shall love him."
Help for the distressed is their redeeming feature; Augustus Hervey benefitted from it when an impecunious Lieutenant, but in later life this kindness was forgotten. In 1766 Tom wrote in a raving pamphlet that the hatred he bore his nephews George and Augustus was "utterly inexpressable", which provoked Augustus to reply that Uncle Tom was "the most detestable and daring monster that ever ventured to insult mankind so openly." (...)
Uncle William is the most important of the brothers in the history of Augustus Hervey, for it was with him that the author of these memoirs was sent to sea to learn the naval officer's trade. Unfortunately , William was the most barbaric of them all. (...) In May 1735, Augustus Hervey, then aged eleven, joined William Hervey's ship the Pembroke and was rated "Captain's servant", which description conceiles the true nature of his position in the ship, which was to all intents and purposes that of cadet. From a professional point of view, Uncle William was a suitable patron for a budding officer, for he is spoken of as a fine seaman and competent commander. But his brutality overshadowed these qualities. John Charnock, the century's most rewarding naval biographer, passes this severe judgment upon him:
"This Gentleman, htough so nobly descended and honourably educated, appears to have been very ill-qualified for a nval command; austere in his disposition, even to a degree of cruelty, he became at once an object both of terror and hatred to his people."
In 1742 this sea-monster was cashiered by court-martial for his brutality; his nephew, then a lieutenant of two years's seniority, had to seek out another patron. Augustus always retained an affectionate regard for his uncle; he does not seem to have been a brutal officer himself, but he was sufficiently indififferent to his uncle's vices to be able to describe that officer's fate as 'his misfortune of being dismissed from the service'. It was a brutal age, and the Royal Navy was one of the most brutal features of it.
Okay, two thoughts:
1) How brutal did you have to be to be cashiered for brutality from the freaking British Navy in the 18th century?
2.) Note that when Augustus joins his uncle at age 11, in 1735, both of his parents were alive, well, and having no problems with that. Hervey is busy helping Caroline feud with her son, Algarotti is in his future, Molly has discovered her heart for the Jacobite cause. If either of them worried about what eleven years old Augustus might see, hear and learn at sea, we don't hear about it. This is standard for time, but it does say something about the time.
FW: If I had become King of England instead of stupid cousin G2, I would have made my kids join the Royal Navy, too.
From now on, I'm quoting Augustus directly, not Erskine's introduction anymore:
How the gentry lives:
1746: After several of these useless visits & c., my brother took me down to Ickworth the 26th to make a visit to my grandfather and mother. In our way we must necessarily go visit that old stately pile of building at Audley Inn of some of our ancestors. In the evening we all met at Ickworth, Sister PHipps and Sister Mary were there also, and hte next day being my grandfather's birthday, we were all (according to ancient custom) to dance - Lords, Ladies, gentlemen, servants, maids, kitchen-maids, & ca.; and this we did in a little room enough to stew us all to celebrate the good old Lord's natal day.
The secret wife:
Background: when Caroline died, G2 famously swore he would never marry again, he would have mistresses. Now, he already had one, whom he'd picked up during his most recent vacation at Hannover, but brought to Britain only after Caroline's death. Because of the small collection of names to choose from (sarcasm alert), she was called Amalie, Countess von Waldenburg, and later Lady Yarmouth. By all accounts placid, pretty, and able to put up with G2's temper as well as being actually a pretty good inofficial stepmom to his children, making peace (she even tried with Fritz of Wales, but that was just impossible) after family quarrels. However, the English courtiers regarded the fact he picked a German as much as a national insult as they had done when G1 arrived with Melusine in tow, and every time G2 had a brief fling with an English lady, said Brit was immediately declared to be the one who would oust the German and become Maitresse en Titre, because everyone knew Germans were boring in bed, and how could G2 NOT prefer an Englishwoman!
His first short time English mistress was Mary Deloraine, who was the former governess of his daughters (who were horrified by this), but that was a disaster which quickly ended when one of the courtiers pulled the chair away from her while she sat down and G2 laughed, upon which Mary D. retaliated by pulling the chair away from him the next time he sat down to see how he liked it, forgetting he had haemmorids. It was incredibly painful and the instant end of their relationship, to the great disappointment of the English courtiers.
A few years later, and here we return to the Hervey clan, as reported in Lucy Worsley's book "Courtiers":
Elizabeth Chudley first entered court circles when she was appointed as Maid of Honour to "Princess Prudence", Augusta, who was married to 'poor' Frederick, Prince of Wales. Shoon afterwards sh met Augustus Hervey, Molly's sailor son. In a strange echo of Molly's own story, in 1744 Augustus and Elizabeth entered into a rushed and passionate marriage, a 'scrambling shabby business' that was kept secret from both of their families bevcause it was a form of financial suicide for both of them. Jut like Molly, Elizabeth would have lost her job as Maid of Hnour if she were known to be married.
In September 1747, Elizabeth obtained a short leave of absence from her post in order to give birth secretly to a short-lived son. Augusts was now spending long periods at sea. By New Year 1749, he and Elizabeth had decided to split. (...) Later the couple would deny that they had ever been married, but a few witnesses insisted otherwise. (Elizabeth would go on trial for bigamy; the Victorian Hervey descendant who cut out the Fritz of Wales passages from his memoirs also wielded the scissors in Augustus' diary, so while it's clear he and Elizabeth were an item it's not clear whether or not they ever married.)
The Year 1749, and the rodwy celebrations of the Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, brought Molly's daughter-in-law (or daughter-in-sin) to prominence. Still claiming to be an unmarried Maid of Honour, Elizabeth created a sensation at a m asquerade at Sumerset House by appearing in a vestigial costume as Iphigenia, ready (un)dressed for the sacrifice at Aulis.
The masquerade included an old man who asked if she would be kind enough to let him give her a squeeze. The king's disguise failed to conceal his identity, so Elizabeth took advantage of the situation for a piece of charming cheek. Grabbing his hand, 'she replied that she would put it to a still softer place, and immediately raised it to his royal forehead'.
Invevitably George II was smitten, and with this a new claimant to the title of chief mistress entered the running. The insolent Elizabeth was overheard declaring that Amalie was dismissed and that she was delighted to belong 'to a King who turns off an old mistress when he has a new one' rataher than keeping both of them on the go simultanously. (...) Elizabeth' smother was awared the lucrative position of housekeeper at Windsor Castle, and Elizabeth herself was distinguished in a drawing-room circle, 'against all precedent', with a kiss from the king. Marvellous vistas of power openened up: 'why should not experience and a charming face on her side, and near seventy years on his, produce a title?'
But Mistress Chudleigh had overreached herself. Amalie was not dismissed, George II tired of his liason - if indeed it really was one - , and Elizabeth had to console herself with the second string on her bow, the Duke of Kingston, whom she now persuaded to marry her. And she enjoyed life as a duchess, at least until the unresolved matter of her possible previous marriage to Augustus Hervey came to light. London was thrilled by Elizabeth's subsequent trial for bigamy.
So far Lucy Worsley's summary of the situation. Now, one of the few surviving comments on Elizabeth Chudley from Augustus' journal/memoir:
About the 16th October Miss Chudleigh came to Town, and sent to me to meet her at Mrs. Hammer her aunt's, which I did, and it passed in mutual reproaches. She thought I should have gone down to Devonshire to see her, and I that she might have come up to attend her duty on the Princess if she had any inclination to see me. However being both very young, this little quarrel passed off, nor did we let it break in on our pleasures. We often met at Mrs. Hammer's (who was not in Town) about midnight, and passed together quite uninterrupted till 4 or 5 in the morning, and this continued whilst I remained in Town. I very seldom met her at any public place, as I avoided it, having been told some secrets by many people. I found her much more taken up with her pleasures, with the Court and with particular connections than she was with our attachment, which nataurally chillled mine at my age, and after having heard many things, which she denied. However I was weak enough to run in debt to satisfy her vanity and to gratify my own inclinations, which were still to please her if I could. I gave her money to pay her debts whilst I was contracting my own for it. I gave her an onyx watch set with diamonds, and, in short, whatsoever people would trust me with, trusting to the chance of war and success of prizes to be able to repay it.
Augustus the Florence tourist:
1748: We remained at Florence to the 1st July, amusing ourselves with all the various curiosities that were collected there by the great family of the Medici, no longer anything in Tuscany now. I dined twice with Count Richecourt, who lives in the pace, is head of the Regency and Governor of Tuscany, and by whom we were magnificently entertained the 28th at a dinner with about eighty people. The bridge La Trinity struck me the instant I saw it for its lightness and beauty; three arches carries it over the Arno; there are other bridges, but not to be named with this. The Arno runs thro' the town but is a dirty coloured water. There are a number of statues and fountains all over this city, but one particular bronze boar which the Electress made a present of to the city, and which supplies the market-place with water, is very fine. The gallery of the Great Duke is the most famous in the world for the collection it contains, and as it has been so often described I shall only speak of what struck me; a statue of a Roman consul speaking to the SEnate; a Tuscan king haranguing the people, a Agrippina in her chair is very fine, with several others not inferior. The picturese that are done of all teh different masters, each one by himself, are very curious and pleasing, and the only collection of the kind in Europe. The famous Venus, of which there are many copies, is here, and the statue of the Venus of Medici, the finest I ever saw. The quantity of out-of-the-way riches that are amassed here from antiquity is very extraordinary of all kinds, in jewels, plate, bronzes, pictures, statues, and in short, all kind of things. We went to see the workers in hard stone, and from hence to the famous chapel of St. Lawrence, which is built of the finest marble and hard stones intermixed with precious stones. The Great Duke Cosmus, who was the last of the Medici family, his noble tomb is here. One would wonder whether one family ever so powerful now in Europe could have collected such riches, which, according to the modern estimation of them, all the Princes in Europe together could not purchase them; but in dipping into the history and private life of that family our wonder is taken off, as we find they stuck at nothing to gratify their ambition and their pride and every passion that human frailty is subject to.
Note that he doesn't list any of the most famous attractions - no David (either of Michelangelo or of Donatello), no Judith. Also, courtesy of Charles I. the painting colllections in GB were pretty good, Francis I as the last patron of Leonardo da' Vinci certainly secured some great Renaissance paintings for France, and while I'm not sure how public either of these collections were at the time, I do know the Dresden collection could be visited by tourists (Lehndorff did, for example), and August the Strong woud like you to know he thinks he could go toe to toe with anyone; his son agrees. (Mind you, the Louvre LATER would outshine any but that was because Napoleon forcibly collected European art all over the places, which included Egypt, and made it a public museum.)
1749: Why Augustus isn't impressed with the Victor of Culloden but likes Fritz of Wales: About the 16th there grew up a bill wherein the sea-offers was much concerned. 'Twas a bill the Duke of Cumberland with Lord Anson and Lord Barrington and others had been concerting to alter the 34th Article of War, in order to oblige all the officers on half pay to be subject to the same discipline and liable to the same orders than if on whole, so that by this means the whole coprs of officers may be kept in the utmost subjection and sent where the Admirality pleased, even if in Parliament. (...) I wrote a pamphlet first entitled A Letter From A Friend To Will's Coffee House, the intent of which was to spirit up all the officers, to set before them what was intended against them. (...) I dined the 19th with Lord Doneraile and others, and in the evening I went with him to Carton House, where the Prince came about half an hour afterwards. He was mighty gracious to me, talked to me a great while about this bill, desired to see my list of all the officers who had signed against it, spoke of the hardships of it, and sent for a Navy-list to cmpare who was for it. The Prince said it was 'shameful for Lord Anson and Lord Sandwhich to make so many brave men slaves' - those were his words. He told me he would certainly serve me when in his power and said he knew more of me than I imagined.
Hervey's Ghost: DON'T YOU DARE LOVE RAT!
Later that year, our enterprising young Augustus Hervey visits Paris and Versailles:
The next day I was presented to the Queen, she spoke to none of us; afterwards to the Dauphin at his apartment, then to the Dauphiness in hers. Then we went to Madame Pompadour's apartment. She was at her toilette, and the handsomest creature I think I ever saw, and looked like a rock of diamonds. Then we went to Madame L'Infanta de Parma. and Mesdames. The Infanta of Parma spoke to me directly and asked me how I liked Paris, and how Italy. I was the only one spoke to that was presented, and that only by her Royal Highness and Madame Pompadour, who had all FRance round her toilette and seemed to have much more court paid to her than to the Queen.
Reminder: the Infanta of Parma is of course daughter to Louis XV, mother to Isabella the future wife of Joseph, and to the unfortunate education experiment Ferdinand. Mesdames are Louis XV' unmarried daughters who will still be around and edge on a teenage Marie Antoinette to snub Madame Dubarry decades later. The Dauphin and Dauphiness are both doomed to die relatively young, they're the parents of Louis XVI. Madame de Pompadour receiving people at her morning toilette is something near royal only the Maitresse en Titre would do.
1750: It's time for Hervey family trouble!
I got to Dover the 19th and set out for London, where I found my mother in her house at St. James Place thata was not quite finished. Most of my time was spent with my mother. The 26th I was with my uncle William at Rickmansworth, where several of my relations were from whom I heard the whole state and situation of this shattered family. The 28th my Brother Hervey being come to town, I went to him. He began with telling me my mother had acted a most shameful part by my youngest sisters, that she had made them rank Jacobites and taught them to reverence the Pretender, and even to ridicule and censure the present King, that he had been obliged to take my sisters from under her tuition, and determined himself to have as little to say to her the rest of his life as possible. He was extremely warm in his language of her, and I had heard of this before from Sir Robert and Lady Louisa. I said I had nothing to do with it all, that my mother was very kind to me, and I should not enter into any quarrels but live as well as I could with them all.
1751: Gramps dies, and then Fritz of Wales, and the family is still arguing with Molly about her Jacobitism. Not good times for Augustus.
The 22nd my brother and I saw (their grandfather) put in his coffin, and all his first wife's letters placed in the coffin with him as he desired on his left cheek, a blue Turkeystone ring she gave him put on his finger, and his bracelet of her hair on, which he ever wore. The 27th my grandfather was buried in Ickworth Church between his two wives, and there ended the very thoughts about the poor old Lord of this place, to whom this family is so much indebted. The 29th my uncle, Will and I went to Town, and met Mr. and Mirs. Phipps on the road. (Mrs Phipps is one of his sisters.)
Whilst I was in Town I went often to Leicester House, but seldom to St. James'. (...) I heard a great deal, too, of my mother's silly work about the Pretender. These things hurt me very much, tho' I could not help them.
(...) The 21st of this month coming from the Oratorio I was told of a great loss the kingdom in general had suffered, and myself in particular, in the Prince of Wales' death; he died of a mortification having got a a cold at tennis. I found my brother had wrote to my Sister Phipps a note to tell her of it, in which he put a postscript at the bottom, saying 'I suppose this will stagger, tho' not fix, your brother Augustus'. I was this evening late with Lord Egmont who was inconsolable, as well he might be, losing such a master and such a friend. (...)
Some months later:
The 25th we left off mourning for the late Prince of Wales, and 'twas observed the King left off deep mourning and second mourning a week each sooner than usual, which was a weakness the poor proud King could not help to show his detastation of his son.
Fritz: Mitchell, aren't we Hohenzollern's lucky to be way more harmonious a family?
In 1752, Augustus is off to Portugal, and this is when the English Casanova designation comes in. According to himself, of course.
I used to go frequently to Odivellas convent and renew my old acquaintance there, and to the English nuns sometimes, where a great party to Odivellas purposely to carry me there and show me all the handsome women that could be brought to the grate. This we had 18th May, and a most delightful evening it was. I got an old woman that had been very useful to the late King, called Ellena, that Don Joao recommended to me. She promised to give a letter for me to the Condessa d'Atougia, but tho' she told me she had, I met no success from it; but she carried me to see a very fine woman at her window that was daughter to the Guarda Mor, and thit if I liked her she would contrive to get us together. In the evening of the 20th I received a letter from tha beautiful creature, sister to Antonio Saltara de Mondoza, and was appointed where to meet her. In this intriguing manner did I spend all my time, having nothing more to do with myself.
The 1st May I went up in one of Don Joao's barges nine leagues up the river to St. Mora, a palace of his. He received me with near twenty horsemen at the water-isde and carried me a-boar-hunting that day, and we had all kinds od diversions whilst there. The 4th we same down in barges the river to Lisbon. I had frequently much cmpany on board to dinner of the Portuegese and the Foreign Ministers. The 7th I was invited to Odivellas again to a great grate by Virgolino, a friend of mine, the late King's favourite's son. There were many m ost beautiful nuns came this evening, and we had music. (...) We stayed late, making love in the frereatica (sic) way (as they all it).
(Footnote from Erskine: "freiratico", as a noun, means Wone who is given too much to the love of nuns" or "one who goes often to nunneries". Perhaps "Nunnish" is the best English equivalent.)
The 18th being a great holiday at La Trinidada, I went in my capola to that church with Virgolino, where were many fine women at Mass, and a great deal of musick. There I saw a very fine country-girl called Vincennes, whom I had followed and got Magdalena to get her for me some days afterwards, and a most lovely piece she was. I went out to Mr. Burn's quinta at Brasio de Plato for two or three days to cool myself in the country, as all this time I was waiting for to get the money of the Rio fleet to carry up to Italy, and the garissons of Gibraltar and Minorca's money.
Mr. Erskine assures us the nuns were most likely not actual nuns who had taken the vows but the great many unmarried daughters of the nobility dumped into nunneries until they got married, or, if a match couldn't be made, to be taken care of.
mildred_of_midgard: I made a mental note to talk about this, and then I read further and you and Mr. Erskine had beaten me to it! I remember Joao V of Portugal was known for being a freiratico, and now that I look up the book where I'd read this, Augustus Hervey is indeed mentioned!
King John needed more than religion to sublimate his desires; indeed in his case the ceremonies of the church opened the door for love affairs. He became a 'freiratico', a man who loved nuns. Courting nuns was an old Portuguese custom which long persisted. A generation earlier the duke of Grafton had taken to it with zest and King Pedro, though no mean amorist himself, had made firm rules to restrict access to the grilles of convents. These measures made little difference; the custom was in high favour throughout King John's reign and in 1752 Captain the Hon Augustus Hervey, R. N., no mean connoisseur, found his way to many agreeable assignations. Even in the 1830s British troops stationed in the Azores continued to benefit. The Portuguese nobility bred more daughters than could find husbands; it was not easy to provide them with dowries to secure a gentleman with enough quarterings and unsullied purity of blood. An easier solution and a cheaper one for a girl of good family was to place her in a fashionable convent; these institutions were packed with nubile girls, many of whom had little vocation but a hunger for life. At home an unmarried girl had a dull time; she could never go out, except heavily escorted to church, and her married sisters fared little better. Even the Princess of Brazil who had more facilities than most and came from the court of Spain, where women also went little abroad, complained often of the dullness of the Portugese court. Any girl who fancied a little social life had a far better time in a convent, where at least she could join in parties, concerts, dacnes, and sing-songs, organised often under the guise of religious celebrations. Also she could be wooed through the grilles by all the young men of the district. Convents were regular ports of call for the bright sparks, who sought diversion and had tired of the only other female company available, that of the prostitutes. They strummed their guitars and sang their love songs, and snatched an occasional kiss pressed on an arm stretched through the bars. Often it went no further, but assignations could ensue, and certainly did so in Hervey's time. It must also be remembered that not all the girls had taken their final vows; some were in an intermediate stage; they were scarcely advanced in their novitiate or were merely temporary visitors.
Among those who got beyond the grilles was undoubtedly King John. The time was to come when he preserved his ardour by aphrodisiacs, and the last of his loves, a French actress named Petronilla, had to be sent away for the sake of his health, to continue her successful career in Paris. But in his younger days success in love offset his melancholy and gave him confidence ad inspiration for his manifold activities. One of the earlier and most famous of his loves was a seventeen-year-old of great beauty, who became known as Mother Paula. She was an inmate of the convent of Odivelas, one of the most fashionable and famous, where there had been such toying with advanced ideas that in 1714 one of the nuns had been found guilty of Judaism. The nuns there had luxurious apartments. Mother Paula, whose real name was Teresa da Silva, was paid a handsome allowance; her affair with the king lasted at least ten years from 1718 to 1728, and resulted in one or more children, one of whom was Dom José, one of the Meninos de Palhava, who became Grand Inquisitor; the other Menino, so called after the quinta where they were brought up, was called Dom Antonio and was the son of a French girl. The first nun from Odivelas to captivate the king was Dona Magdalena de Miranda, mother of Dom Gaspar, who became archbishop of Braga. These three were acknowledged sons and all lived to a great age...
Dances in church had been part of many traditional ceremonies; the cardinals restricted them and closed the churches at nightfull, so that they could not be used for assignations. But music and dacing in convents was very popular.
Source: Alan David Francis, Portugal, 1715-1808 : Joanine, Pombaline, and Rococo Portugal as seen by British diplomats and traders, 1985.
Anyway, this is fairly typical for peace time Augustus with the navy. I should add that if his ship is tasked to ferry nobility around, as wiht the Marquis de Bernis, brother to the famous Cardinal (French politician) and his wife (the Marquis is Ambassador at Venice and that's where they are headed), as opposed to concerts and sex this can hahppen:
The 18th we lay thirteen hours under a mainsail with a very violent gale of wind indeed, these people all sick and frightened to death. Most of my own servants were sick too, and I was night and day attending this poor Madame de Bernis, even to giving her the chamber-pot and holding her head and the basin eternally whilst she was sick.
Meanwhile, family news:
The 28th I anchored off Genoa and the next day I got into the mold, where I met with many letters, not very pleasing, as I heard of the prosecution going on with my Sister Fitzgerald and her hsuband to be separated, and Frederick's marriage with MIss Betty Davers, who I was afraid had not fortune enough to make him easy.
Augustus, are you implying Frederick married solely for money and misjudged his bride on that account or that he ought to have married for money due to his expensive tastes but didn't?
1753, and when Augustus is visiting soon to be world famous archaelogical digs near Naples, which Wilhelmine will also visit a few years later, it occurs to me Lady Mary is inn Italy during all this time, but not among the VIPs he encounters that I noticed. Incidentally, Augustus digs Italy and makes no "past its glory days/old coquette" comparisons.
The 29th I went to see the King's palace of Portici, which was very well worth attention from being so very full of all the curious antiquities that had been for many years taken out of the ruins of the city of Pompeii and was daily finding in those new discovered ones of the Herculaneum of Heraclea. I went with the Abbate Camillo Pardorni who had the care of them all, and innumerable they were indeed of every kind, bronzes particularly, fine statues, several utensils of all kinds in gold and silver, rings, seals, in short everything that can be named; the most curious workmanship, and yet preserved, tho' so m any hundred years they had lain inder ground. There were several very fine equestrian statues, vast pillars of various different fine marbles, bronze figures eigght feet high. I went down into the Herculaneum to see the nature of their working there, and to view the amphitheatre they had discovered, but which they could not show but little of as tehy were obliged to fill up with the lava they dug out in order to support the foundations of the palace, which was in part built over all this famous city, destroyed 1,800 years ago. The paintings are all taken up and preserved, and some are still very fresh, and very fine mosaic work there is. The gallery round the amphitheatre and several of the seats are preserved. 'Tis prodigious the variety of things here.
And then there's that time back in Portugal Augustus gets kidnapped by a henchman who turns out not to be a robber but the servant of a lady later to be revealed the Duchess of Castval, who wants to have her way with Augustus.
The lady was of a very fine stature, fine hair, fine teeth and eyes, much painted after the Portuguese manner. She caressed me very much, and told me if she had not seen me so, she should have been the most miserable wretch in the world, as she had been ever since the bull-feast last year that she saw me, and perceived I had taken notice of her. I could not recall any thing about it, nor was I recovered of my surprise, it appeared all a dream to me. She perceived the amazement I was in, and caressed me the more. However, feeling myself in the arms of a very fine and a very luxurious woman, those sensations soon began to get the better of all others, as they were ever ready to do with me. A maid-servant soon after brought some sweetmeats and water. I took only a dried apricot and ate it. She told me our time was short and we must go to bed, which I did not hesitate as she had fired me all over. I put my pocket-pistols under my head, and passed a most jouyous night.
(They part after exchanging notes, so to speak, so they get meet the next time discreetly without any kidnapping.)
By 1755, it's obvious war (with the French) is on the horizon, which means way less time spent on land, and in November, the famous earthquake of Lissabon that causes a big philosophical crisis for many a philosophe and which Voltaire works into Candide happens, destroying two thirds of the city Augustus is familiar with.
The next day, the 9th, we had the sad news of the fatal earuthquake that happened at Lisbon, with many of the hparticulars of that misfortune, and that it had been felt in many places of Euirope, and even across the ocean to Barbary. Machinese in Barbary suffered greatly at the same time. These are frightful events, and ought to inspire reflections that should mend the lives of individuals in order not to deserve such chastisements from Prvoidence. I had several slaves deserted and swam off to me; all those that had not stole anything or done any crime I protected; those who had, I gave up. I sansomed three vessels, and then begun a correspondence with this young lady, whose name was Margherita Carcas. We continued the correspondence tho' I could never get on shore.
Augustus is near Malta at this point, so I assume that's where the slaves escaped from - it was one of the biggest slave markets of the Mediterranean in the previous century, and while now the "market" was more Atlantic and Pacific-oriented, I suppose it was still active.
As far as the French and British are concerned, the 7 Years War then starts not with Fritz invading Saxony but earlier with the French taking Minorca after the Brits lose the previous sea battle, leading to the government scapegoating Admiral Byng, Augustus' boss.
The 31st the Admiral and Mr. West went on shore together, which pleased me very much, as I was in hopes they would be well together. I kept pressing their sailing immediately to endeaovur to find the enemy, and wish my advice had been followed for the next day Admiral West had a letter overland that himself and Mr. Byng were recalled. And sure enough the 2nd July at 10 in the morning the Antelope of 50 guns in thirteen days from England arrived with Sir Edward Hawke and Rear-Admiral Sasunders to relieve Mr. Byng an dWest, Lord Tyrawly to relieve General Fowke, Lord Panmure to relieve General Stuart, Captain Batten and several other officers; the gentelmen relieved wer all to proceed to England immediately, Mr. Byng as a prisoner. Mr. Broderick was made a flag and to go home also. The land officers were superceded for their council of war at Gibraltar before tehy went up, and not complying with the King's orders, and here the whole garrison was astonished to find a set of gentlemen stigmatised only on the accounts of the French admiral, which were the only ones received when these sailed. They did not give time for the arrival of Admiral Byng's express, such was their determination to sacrifice that officer to screen their own wicked heads. Even Sir Edward Hawke, whom I went to see, condemned the hasty manner in which it was done, and much more so the unprecedented infamous reports Lord HOlland, Lord Anson and the Duke of Newcastle encouraged everywhere against Mr. Byng's character in order to raise the mob against him and turn all the resentment and just indignation of the people from themselves to Admiral Byng.
This is one of the passages where as Erskine says you can see Augustus might be working on the basis of his diary but is actually writing years later, for Henry Fox didn't become Lord Holland until the end of the war.
Augustus' indignation about Byng dominates the entire early account of the war.
The 11th we got off Mahon, bu tno French, nor any intelligence concerning them. The 13th we were joined by the Colchester, Captain O'Brien, who brought orders from England for myself and nine other Captains with several officers to go home in the Colchester to attend at Admiral Byng's trial, and it was a very extraordinary thing that all tlhe captains of that fleet should be ordered home but one, and that one Captain Durell, who was the Admiral's immediate second in that action, and was the occasion of the Admiral not being able to get into action the second time. By this ship we heard very much of the most infamous and shameful unheard-of treatment Admiral Byng had met with in England, all occasioned by a hired mob to insult him, and by papers being sent about everywhere to poison the minds of the people and prejudice them against him, in order to screen those wretches Newcastle, Anson and Fox.
Augustus distinguishes himself later at a famous at the time nightly battle involving the ship Monmouth, but the Byng passages are the last from the diary I'll quote for then in 1757, the manuscript ends abruptly, not in a dramatic scene but mid sentence, we know not why. The next quotes are from the letters Erskine provides in the appencides.
As mentioned elsewhere, Augustus wrote to Henry Fox as the one member of the current government he knew via his father, and basically said, more politely and without including Fox in his condemnation, what he writes in his diary re: Byng after describing the battle. Henry Fox forwards this letter to Molly:
Dear Madam, I send you your son's letter. It is private, so I have not shown it to anybody, because the blaming people here will neither do Mr. Hervey nor them any good.
Molly to Henry Fox, in reply: I return you, my dear sir, with a thousand thanks , Augustus' letter which has given me a great deal of pain, as I think even by those accounts every situation was not made the most of. I am heartily vexed at the whole, as an ENglishwoman and as a well-wisher to Byng. A m also frightened lest all those who composed the Council of War should receive censure. Dear Sir, I should be glad to see you before I go on my great journey (to Scotland), but how is it possible? (...) I wish for the sake of England that the new Admirals may do better than Byng, but I wish for Byng's sake that he had done that better. Adieu my dear, I am vexed and uneasy, but ever with truth and faithfully and affectionately yours.
Henry Fox writes back; the start of the letter reassures her on another matter, Augustus having written a presumably love letter to a French lady just before the war broke out:
Dear Madam, - No other harm can happen to Captain Hervey from his imprudence than from a little ridicule as to his being very fond of the French. It was before war was declared, and there was no harm in this letter. (...) I am more afraid that his gratitude to Byng joined to a lively disposition may make him talk imprudently when he finds in how different a light his superiors here look on that Admiral's conduct from that in which his Captains, and particularly Captain Hervey, represent it. I wish I could advise him to do his own duty, as I dare say he will, well; and neither write or speak of that of others. But particularly not to write his thoughts on such occasions.
Molly to Henry Fox (after he forwarded another indignant Augustus letter to her):
I have wrote to Augustus and have given him the best, indeed the only advice I could give him, which is to make use of nothing, but truth in justification of his unhappy friend, as all fallacies and exaggerations can only hurt the man and cause he wishes to serve. But not to employ his utmost powers with truth to vindicate his friend ins what I can neither advise nor wish; on the contrary, I would excite him to it, as it was on like occasion I would do myself at all hazards and perils, and so the best friend I have in the world shall find if ever there is occasion for it, which on his account (why should I not plainly say yours) I hope will never happpen, but if it should, here it is under my hand, and keep it, I beg of you. I have spirit and courage to make it good, tho' fortune and life itself were both concerned. These are perilous times, my dear sir, God knows what may happen. The suffering, perhaps encouraging a mob to declare they will have - or otherwise do themselves - what they call justice, is not only the most wicked, but the most weak and dangerous thing imaginable; if they are supported or allowed to make such insolent illegal declarations, who knows whose turn may be next?
Henry Fox to Molly: The Mob, dear Madam, is not excited against Byng. The greatest care has been taken at least that they should not even get a sight of him. (...) I see no dificulty that Captain Hervey can be under. He will upon oath and will give true evidence. There is no room for friendship for giving evidence, and nobody will blame his doing Mr. Byng all the service he can. If the event should ruin Mr. Byng, that will grieve Mr. Hervey and be distressful, but Mr. Hervey's character as an officer or a man of courage can not bon this occasion be complicated with Mr. Byng's.
Footnote to this whole matter by Erskine: The ruth is that Fox was justified in trying to divert much of the blame for the loss of Minorca onto Byng for his unenterprising behaviour off Mahon - provided he did not exceed the bounds of fairness. The mutilation of the Admmiral's despatch and the tacit, if not active, encouragement of the mob were unworthy incidents in this attempt to make the Admiral scapegoat for all the sins of the ministry; but it was Fox' conduct after the finding and sentence of the Court Martial which can in no way be excused. The love of office and the knowledge that those who advocated leniency were flying in the face of royal and popular favour were too strong for him; he aquiesced at the unjust execution, and that 'fixed' Augustus' Hervey's opinion of him.
To conclude on a more joyful note, Mom Molly to Augustus about his battle heroics with the Monmouth: Indeed, my dear Augustus, if you go on at this rate you will quite blind me. I have been forced to read and write so many answers to letters of congratulations on your behaviour and success that I can hardly see; and this moment I have received your letter of the 22nd July with the pleasing account of farther and greater intrepidity, and, thank God, with safety still on your part.
Molly, a reminder, in her old age hands out a lot of Horace Walpole, who approves of her as he doesn't of Lady Mary:
Mr. Walpole, who is always the first and most obliging on all such occasions, said they were all in joy and full of your praises at Holland House. (...) He is just come into my room with Lady Stanhope and all of them with the newspapers of this morning, which he has just got, in which there is a full and most delightful account of the action and of Commodore Hervey and at the end of it some verses of which these are the last two lines:
"Britons exult! all Gallia trembling stands,
While Hervey executes and Hawke commands!
What the edited manuscript is not: an actual diary. It's evidently based on one, but as Erskine footnotes, you can tell it was written years after the fact not just because Augustus Hervey occasionally interjects remarks like person such and such being dead eight months later, but because he sometimes uses titles the people in question at the time he's ostensibly writing in did not yet have, as for example "Lord Holland" for Henry Fox (who didn't get elevated to that peerage until the end of the 7 Years War, and no, it wasn't inherited, so Augustus at the time could not have known he'd be called that a few years later. Very occasionally, he also leaves out key information which Erskine then provides in a footnote to make himself look better, like leaving out humbling himself and seeking favours from Newcastle whom he just ranted on for page after page after page as the worst and utter scum. The manuskript breaks off mid sentence decades before Augustus' life ends. More censorship by Mr. Victorian Descendant? Augustus didn't continue with transcribing and editing his diaries and/or writing his memoirs - it's not clear which of the two he meant to do? We'll never know. After the manuscript proper, Erskine provides some addenda in the form of letters most interestingly between Lady Hervey (Molly Lepell, widow of Hervey the Memoirist) and Henry Fox (not yet Lord Holland) as well as between Augustus and Henry Fox, all concerning Admiral John Byng, with whom Augustus served at the Battle of Minorca that opened the 7 Years War even before Fritz invated Saxony.
cahn, you may or may not recall from Candide that Voltaire alludes to Byng's execution when he has Candide witness an executuion at Portsmouth and is told "in this country, it is good to kill an admiral from time to time to encourage the others".What happened according to Erskine was essentially that the government made a major miscalculation - they thought the French would try to invade England, so most of the maritime resources were focused there, while Byng was understaffed and under equipped when the actual French attack came at Minorca and lost. Simultanously, there were food riots and other political problems in England. All of this resulted in the blatant scapegoating of Byng by the government. He was blamed completely, put on trial and while the jury found him innocent of cowardice, he was still condemned for not having "done his utmost" and condemned to death. Augustus was a passionate defender of the Admiral, and goes into great detail about the whole affair - not only was he present at the battle and its aftermath, he also testified as a witness in Byng's favour at the trial, though all in vain. Now, the only goverment member he knew because his late father, Hervey the memoirist, had been bff with the Foxes, was Henry Fox, and so Augustus had written to him while still at sea only to find Henry Fox as determined as the rest of the government to serve up Byng as a scapegoat to the populace in order to keep their own jobs. Fox forwards Augustus' letters to Molly with a hint it's better for Augustus' career that they're not archived with the Navy. Molly is concerned for her boy but also, just more tactfully, pleads Byng's case. Henry Fox isn't hating on Byng but cooly pragmatic. A gigantic international war has just broken out, someone has to be guilty for the fact the glorious British navy has just lost to the French, and it certainly won't be Henry and his colleagues in government. As late as 2007, the Byng family still sought a postumous pardon and the Ministry of Defense still refused.
Fritz: See? See?!! Supposedly constitutional monarchies did it, too, and in the same war. Why is everyone on my ass then?
Heinrich: Don't even start.
Anyway, the fate of Byng is by far the most serious subject of the entire book. Otherwise, it's mostly light hearted. In the previous peace time, Augustus is the proverbial sailor with a girl (or several) in every harbour, and Erskine calls him the English Casanova, only better, because his stories are totally true while Casanova "has been unmasked as a liar" (this is news to me, though I don't doubt that Casanova, writing in his Bohemian library as an old man, got things wrong; I also note that the 1950s publication date is decades before the memoirs were re translated and re published from the entire manuscript). One thing that can se said is that as opposed to Casanova, who used pseudonyms for all the ladies, with some able to be identified only because he first used their real names in the manuscript, then scratched it out and wrote the alias over it, Augustus generally goes for real names, as with the Duchess who kidnaps him to have her way with him (in which he delightedly complies). Mind you, he's also a major case of the usual double standard, because in one of the few references to Elizabeth Chudley left by the Victorian descendant in the manuscript, he complains she's not been "a Vestal" in his absence and that's a major reason why he wants to split. Otoh, one of Augustus' sympathetic traits is that when his oldest brother, George - like I said, career Courtier Lord Hervey naming his sons George, Augustus and Frederick, respectively, is so typical - makes noises about wanting to take custody of their younger sisters away from Molly because of her Jacobitism, Augustus immediately goes "I love Mom, and no way!" (Unsurprisingly, he's her favourite among her children.) (If Molly disliked being with children, you won't find any references to it in this book. Of course, it might just be small children she did not get along with, and adults are another matter.)
Augustus is also a good tourist who in peace time takes a lot of shore leave to go sight seeing, which is why we get a description of post Medici, pre Leopold Florence from him. He is under the impression Cosimo was the last of the Medici, though. (Poor Gian Gastone, forgotten already.)
In terms of the previous generation, he mentions his father only in context with his mother - i.e. "my father and mother" knew such and such -; because of how things go with Admiral Byng, he thinks Henry Fox is scum (Newcastle, too, but Hervey the memoirist wasn't friends with Newcastle), but, in a surprising turn of events, likes Fritz of Wales! Fritz of Wales is very nice to him, too, so if the Hervey/Fritz of Wales breakup left bad blood on both sides, apparantly FoW doesn't extend it to Hervey's kids.
(Hervey's ghost: NOT THE LOVE RAT! Augustus, no!!!!!)
Otoh, Augustus isn't impressed with Cumberland the Butcher at all, and this before Cumberland screws up in the 7 Years War.
Now, on to the quotes.
First, from the introduction about the squabbling Hervey clan. Reminder: still headed, when the story starts, by Lord Bristol. Lord Hervey the memoirist was his second son and his favourite; as his first son died childless Lord Hervey would have become the Earl of Bristol after him but died before his father, which means Gramps has to essentially co-raise Hervey's kids with Molly. (Luckily, they got on very well.) Augustus is fond of his grandfather and mourns him when the old man dies. Because nobles use each other's title like that, this also means his own oldest brother, George, goes from being referred to as "my brother Hervey" to "my brother Bristol". Incidentally, all three of Hervey the memoirist's sons would become the Earl of Bristol, because George dies without kids as well, Augustus dies without legitimate kids (though he enlists "Little Augustus", his illegitimate son, as a midshipman with the Navy at age 4 in order to finance him), and then it's Frederick's turn. Augustus and George had their ups and downs, but generally got along. Augustus and Frederick, otoh, became mortal enemies. (This I knew from the book "Courtiers" already, but there assumed the wrong reasons, more about this in a moment.) Writes Erskine:
The Honourable Augustus Hervey, third Earl of Bristol and Vice-Admiral of the Blue, died of 'gout in the stomach' at 6 St. James Square on the 22nd December 1779, aged fifty-five. He was succeeded in the title and entailed estate by his brother Frederick, Bishop of Derry, from whom by his will he alienated all he could, even, it is said, the deer in the park of the family seat at Ickworth.
Because Frederick became an (Anglican) bishop and because of the way Lucy Worsley divides the family between the fun ones (Augustus, Molly, Hervey the memoirist) and the dull moralists (George, Frederick, their sister Lepell and the Victorian scissors wielding guy, most likely Frederick's son, also called Frederick), I thought the Augustus/Frederick feud was for moral reasons. Not so, and Frederick, bishop or not, was far from dull. Or a moralist in the Victorian sense. Erskine's introduction first alerted me to this fact:
The younger brother Frederick features prominently in the latter half of the century, when as "Earl-Bishop" he lived mostly on the continent, travelling about, and leaving there as his permanent memorial a string of Hotels Bristol. What the origin of the implacable feud betwen him and Augustus was, we do not know; as the years went by all hope of ending it vanished, for they took opposing sides in politics, the Bishop supporting Catholic emancipation in Ireland and independence in America, while the Admiral voted against the repeal of the Stamp Act and was a member of Lord North's administration.
An Anglican globetrotting Bishop who supports equal rights for Catholics and American Independence is very much not the norm in the 18th century, so I checked Frederick's wiki entry, and lo, it gets even better. Frederick wasn't just any old Bishop, he became Bishop of Derry. In Ireland, just so there's no doubt. And STILL was pro equal rights for Catholics.
As Bishop of Derry, Hervey quickly developed a reputation for being "the most worldly, most eccentric, most talked-about priest in the Church of Ireland".
Hervey was Derry's most generous philanthropist, although some of the clergy in his diocese came to regard him as cheerfully sadistic, for such instances as when he instructed any portly priests coveting plum promotions to compete in midnight runs through bogs and marshland.
Frederick married and continued the family line, but he also (presumably when in Italy) fell in love with, drum roll, none other than Wilhelmine Encke, Countess of Lichtenau, chief mistress of FW2.
Lucy Worsley, I don't know what you're on about. No way this guy sounds dull and moralistic.
Anyway, in the era covered by this book, Augustus and Frederick are still on talking terms, but Augustus makes very suspicious noises about brother Frederick now and then.
Mind you: the previous generation of Herveys was just as wild. I knew Hervey the memoirist's mother Elizabeth had 17 children, but I never wondered what became of them. Well, Erskine informs me thusly about Lord Hervey's most notorious younger brothers:
The wildest and wickedest were Tom and Harry. Tom must befor ever memorable for eloping with this godfather's young wife and subsequently carrying on a debate in pamphlet form with the injured husband, in the course of which he described the lady as "our wife - for, in heaven, whose wife shall she be?" Harry's youthful scrapes and extravagances had cost his father dearly, until he followed the advice and practice of "the good old Lord", married an heiress and changed his name to Aston. Formerely a cornet of Dragoons he ended his days in Holy Orders; even the Duke of Newcastle (...) must have lefted an eyebrow when Harry's petition for the see of Chester came to his hands. However Tom and Harry have some claim to the gratitude of posterity, for it was they who protected young Samuel Johnson when he first came to London, friendless a nd in need; he at least was grateful to them, saying that though they were both vicious men, Tom was one of the genteelest that ever lived, and that Harry was "very kind to me; if you call a dog Hervey I shall love him."
Help for the distressed is their redeeming feature; Augustus Hervey benefitted from it when an impecunious Lieutenant, but in later life this kindness was forgotten. In 1766 Tom wrote in a raving pamphlet that the hatred he bore his nephews George and Augustus was "utterly inexpressable", which provoked Augustus to reply that Uncle Tom was "the most detestable and daring monster that ever ventured to insult mankind so openly." (...)
Uncle William is the most important of the brothers in the history of Augustus Hervey, for it was with him that the author of these memoirs was sent to sea to learn the naval officer's trade. Unfortunately , William was the most barbaric of them all. (...) In May 1735, Augustus Hervey, then aged eleven, joined William Hervey's ship the Pembroke and was rated "Captain's servant", which description conceiles the true nature of his position in the ship, which was to all intents and purposes that of cadet. From a professional point of view, Uncle William was a suitable patron for a budding officer, for he is spoken of as a fine seaman and competent commander. But his brutality overshadowed these qualities. John Charnock, the century's most rewarding naval biographer, passes this severe judgment upon him:
"This Gentleman, htough so nobly descended and honourably educated, appears to have been very ill-qualified for a nval command; austere in his disposition, even to a degree of cruelty, he became at once an object both of terror and hatred to his people."
In 1742 this sea-monster was cashiered by court-martial for his brutality; his nephew, then a lieutenant of two years's seniority, had to seek out another patron. Augustus always retained an affectionate regard for his uncle; he does not seem to have been a brutal officer himself, but he was sufficiently indififferent to his uncle's vices to be able to describe that officer's fate as 'his misfortune of being dismissed from the service'. It was a brutal age, and the Royal Navy was one of the most brutal features of it.
Okay, two thoughts:
1) How brutal did you have to be to be cashiered for brutality from the freaking British Navy in the 18th century?
2.) Note that when Augustus joins his uncle at age 11, in 1735, both of his parents were alive, well, and having no problems with that. Hervey is busy helping Caroline feud with her son, Algarotti is in his future, Molly has discovered her heart for the Jacobite cause. If either of them worried about what eleven years old Augustus might see, hear and learn at sea, we don't hear about it. This is standard for time, but it does say something about the time.
FW: If I had become King of England instead of stupid cousin G2, I would have made my kids join the Royal Navy, too.
From now on, I'm quoting Augustus directly, not Erskine's introduction anymore:
How the gentry lives:
1746: After several of these useless visits & c., my brother took me down to Ickworth the 26th to make a visit to my grandfather and mother. In our way we must necessarily go visit that old stately pile of building at Audley Inn of some of our ancestors. In the evening we all met at Ickworth, Sister PHipps and Sister Mary were there also, and hte next day being my grandfather's birthday, we were all (according to ancient custom) to dance - Lords, Ladies, gentlemen, servants, maids, kitchen-maids, & ca.; and this we did in a little room enough to stew us all to celebrate the good old Lord's natal day.
The secret wife:
Background: when Caroline died, G2 famously swore he would never marry again, he would have mistresses. Now, he already had one, whom he'd picked up during his most recent vacation at Hannover, but brought to Britain only after Caroline's death. Because of the small collection of names to choose from (sarcasm alert), she was called Amalie, Countess von Waldenburg, and later Lady Yarmouth. By all accounts placid, pretty, and able to put up with G2's temper as well as being actually a pretty good inofficial stepmom to his children, making peace (she even tried with Fritz of Wales, but that was just impossible) after family quarrels. However, the English courtiers regarded the fact he picked a German as much as a national insult as they had done when G1 arrived with Melusine in tow, and every time G2 had a brief fling with an English lady, said Brit was immediately declared to be the one who would oust the German and become Maitresse en Titre, because everyone knew Germans were boring in bed, and how could G2 NOT prefer an Englishwoman!
His first short time English mistress was Mary Deloraine, who was the former governess of his daughters (who were horrified by this), but that was a disaster which quickly ended when one of the courtiers pulled the chair away from her while she sat down and G2 laughed, upon which Mary D. retaliated by pulling the chair away from him the next time he sat down to see how he liked it, forgetting he had haemmorids. It was incredibly painful and the instant end of their relationship, to the great disappointment of the English courtiers.
A few years later, and here we return to the Hervey clan, as reported in Lucy Worsley's book "Courtiers":
Elizabeth Chudley first entered court circles when she was appointed as Maid of Honour to "Princess Prudence", Augusta, who was married to 'poor' Frederick, Prince of Wales. Shoon afterwards sh met Augustus Hervey, Molly's sailor son. In a strange echo of Molly's own story, in 1744 Augustus and Elizabeth entered into a rushed and passionate marriage, a 'scrambling shabby business' that was kept secret from both of their families bevcause it was a form of financial suicide for both of them. Jut like Molly, Elizabeth would have lost her job as Maid of Hnour if she were known to be married.
In September 1747, Elizabeth obtained a short leave of absence from her post in order to give birth secretly to a short-lived son. Augusts was now spending long periods at sea. By New Year 1749, he and Elizabeth had decided to split. (...) Later the couple would deny that they had ever been married, but a few witnesses insisted otherwise. (Elizabeth would go on trial for bigamy; the Victorian Hervey descendant who cut out the Fritz of Wales passages from his memoirs also wielded the scissors in Augustus' diary, so while it's clear he and Elizabeth were an item it's not clear whether or not they ever married.)
The Year 1749, and the rodwy celebrations of the Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, brought Molly's daughter-in-law (or daughter-in-sin) to prominence. Still claiming to be an unmarried Maid of Honour, Elizabeth created a sensation at a m asquerade at Sumerset House by appearing in a vestigial costume as Iphigenia, ready (un)dressed for the sacrifice at Aulis.
The masquerade included an old man who asked if she would be kind enough to let him give her a squeeze. The king's disguise failed to conceal his identity, so Elizabeth took advantage of the situation for a piece of charming cheek. Grabbing his hand, 'she replied that she would put it to a still softer place, and immediately raised it to his royal forehead'.
Invevitably George II was smitten, and with this a new claimant to the title of chief mistress entered the running. The insolent Elizabeth was overheard declaring that Amalie was dismissed and that she was delighted to belong 'to a King who turns off an old mistress when he has a new one' rataher than keeping both of them on the go simultanously. (...) Elizabeth' smother was awared the lucrative position of housekeeper at Windsor Castle, and Elizabeth herself was distinguished in a drawing-room circle, 'against all precedent', with a kiss from the king. Marvellous vistas of power openened up: 'why should not experience and a charming face on her side, and near seventy years on his, produce a title?'
But Mistress Chudleigh had overreached herself. Amalie was not dismissed, George II tired of his liason - if indeed it really was one - , and Elizabeth had to console herself with the second string on her bow, the Duke of Kingston, whom she now persuaded to marry her. And she enjoyed life as a duchess, at least until the unresolved matter of her possible previous marriage to Augustus Hervey came to light. London was thrilled by Elizabeth's subsequent trial for bigamy.
So far Lucy Worsley's summary of the situation. Now, one of the few surviving comments on Elizabeth Chudley from Augustus' journal/memoir:
About the 16th October Miss Chudleigh came to Town, and sent to me to meet her at Mrs. Hammer her aunt's, which I did, and it passed in mutual reproaches. She thought I should have gone down to Devonshire to see her, and I that she might have come up to attend her duty on the Princess if she had any inclination to see me. However being both very young, this little quarrel passed off, nor did we let it break in on our pleasures. We often met at Mrs. Hammer's (who was not in Town) about midnight, and passed together quite uninterrupted till 4 or 5 in the morning, and this continued whilst I remained in Town. I very seldom met her at any public place, as I avoided it, having been told some secrets by many people. I found her much more taken up with her pleasures, with the Court and with particular connections than she was with our attachment, which nataurally chillled mine at my age, and after having heard many things, which she denied. However I was weak enough to run in debt to satisfy her vanity and to gratify my own inclinations, which were still to please her if I could. I gave her money to pay her debts whilst I was contracting my own for it. I gave her an onyx watch set with diamonds, and, in short, whatsoever people would trust me with, trusting to the chance of war and success of prizes to be able to repay it.
Augustus the Florence tourist:
1748: We remained at Florence to the 1st July, amusing ourselves with all the various curiosities that were collected there by the great family of the Medici, no longer anything in Tuscany now. I dined twice with Count Richecourt, who lives in the pace, is head of the Regency and Governor of Tuscany, and by whom we were magnificently entertained the 28th at a dinner with about eighty people. The bridge La Trinity struck me the instant I saw it for its lightness and beauty; three arches carries it over the Arno; there are other bridges, but not to be named with this. The Arno runs thro' the town but is a dirty coloured water. There are a number of statues and fountains all over this city, but one particular bronze boar which the Electress made a present of to the city, and which supplies the market-place with water, is very fine. The gallery of the Great Duke is the most famous in the world for the collection it contains, and as it has been so often described I shall only speak of what struck me; a statue of a Roman consul speaking to the SEnate; a Tuscan king haranguing the people, a Agrippina in her chair is very fine, with several others not inferior. The picturese that are done of all teh different masters, each one by himself, are very curious and pleasing, and the only collection of the kind in Europe. The famous Venus, of which there are many copies, is here, and the statue of the Venus of Medici, the finest I ever saw. The quantity of out-of-the-way riches that are amassed here from antiquity is very extraordinary of all kinds, in jewels, plate, bronzes, pictures, statues, and in short, all kind of things. We went to see the workers in hard stone, and from hence to the famous chapel of St. Lawrence, which is built of the finest marble and hard stones intermixed with precious stones. The Great Duke Cosmus, who was the last of the Medici family, his noble tomb is here. One would wonder whether one family ever so powerful now in Europe could have collected such riches, which, according to the modern estimation of them, all the Princes in Europe together could not purchase them; but in dipping into the history and private life of that family our wonder is taken off, as we find they stuck at nothing to gratify their ambition and their pride and every passion that human frailty is subject to.
Note that he doesn't list any of the most famous attractions - no David (either of Michelangelo or of Donatello), no Judith. Also, courtesy of Charles I. the painting colllections in GB were pretty good, Francis I as the last patron of Leonardo da' Vinci certainly secured some great Renaissance paintings for France, and while I'm not sure how public either of these collections were at the time, I do know the Dresden collection could be visited by tourists (Lehndorff did, for example), and August the Strong woud like you to know he thinks he could go toe to toe with anyone; his son agrees. (Mind you, the Louvre LATER would outshine any but that was because Napoleon forcibly collected European art all over the places, which included Egypt, and made it a public museum.)
1749: Why Augustus isn't impressed with the Victor of Culloden but likes Fritz of Wales: About the 16th there grew up a bill wherein the sea-offers was much concerned. 'Twas a bill the Duke of Cumberland with Lord Anson and Lord Barrington and others had been concerting to alter the 34th Article of War, in order to oblige all the officers on half pay to be subject to the same discipline and liable to the same orders than if on whole, so that by this means the whole coprs of officers may be kept in the utmost subjection and sent where the Admirality pleased, even if in Parliament. (...) I wrote a pamphlet first entitled A Letter From A Friend To Will's Coffee House, the intent of which was to spirit up all the officers, to set before them what was intended against them. (...) I dined the 19th with Lord Doneraile and others, and in the evening I went with him to Carton House, where the Prince came about half an hour afterwards. He was mighty gracious to me, talked to me a great while about this bill, desired to see my list of all the officers who had signed against it, spoke of the hardships of it, and sent for a Navy-list to cmpare who was for it. The Prince said it was 'shameful for Lord Anson and Lord Sandwhich to make so many brave men slaves' - those were his words. He told me he would certainly serve me when in his power and said he knew more of me than I imagined.
Hervey's Ghost: DON'T YOU DARE LOVE RAT!
Later that year, our enterprising young Augustus Hervey visits Paris and Versailles:
The next day I was presented to the Queen, she spoke to none of us; afterwards to the Dauphin at his apartment, then to the Dauphiness in hers. Then we went to Madame Pompadour's apartment. She was at her toilette, and the handsomest creature I think I ever saw, and looked like a rock of diamonds. Then we went to Madame L'Infanta de Parma. and Mesdames. The Infanta of Parma spoke to me directly and asked me how I liked Paris, and how Italy. I was the only one spoke to that was presented, and that only by her Royal Highness and Madame Pompadour, who had all FRance round her toilette and seemed to have much more court paid to her than to the Queen.
Reminder: the Infanta of Parma is of course daughter to Louis XV, mother to Isabella the future wife of Joseph, and to the unfortunate education experiment Ferdinand. Mesdames are Louis XV' unmarried daughters who will still be around and edge on a teenage Marie Antoinette to snub Madame Dubarry decades later. The Dauphin and Dauphiness are both doomed to die relatively young, they're the parents of Louis XVI. Madame de Pompadour receiving people at her morning toilette is something near royal only the Maitresse en Titre would do.
1750: It's time for Hervey family trouble!
I got to Dover the 19th and set out for London, where I found my mother in her house at St. James Place thata was not quite finished. Most of my time was spent with my mother. The 26th I was with my uncle William at Rickmansworth, where several of my relations were from whom I heard the whole state and situation of this shattered family. The 28th my Brother Hervey being come to town, I went to him. He began with telling me my mother had acted a most shameful part by my youngest sisters, that she had made them rank Jacobites and taught them to reverence the Pretender, and even to ridicule and censure the present King, that he had been obliged to take my sisters from under her tuition, and determined himself to have as little to say to her the rest of his life as possible. He was extremely warm in his language of her, and I had heard of this before from Sir Robert and Lady Louisa. I said I had nothing to do with it all, that my mother was very kind to me, and I should not enter into any quarrels but live as well as I could with them all.
1751: Gramps dies, and then Fritz of Wales, and the family is still arguing with Molly about her Jacobitism. Not good times for Augustus.
The 22nd my brother and I saw (their grandfather) put in his coffin, and all his first wife's letters placed in the coffin with him as he desired on his left cheek, a blue Turkeystone ring she gave him put on his finger, and his bracelet of her hair on, which he ever wore. The 27th my grandfather was buried in Ickworth Church between his two wives, and there ended the very thoughts about the poor old Lord of this place, to whom this family is so much indebted. The 29th my uncle, Will and I went to Town, and met Mr. and Mirs. Phipps on the road. (Mrs Phipps is one of his sisters.)
Whilst I was in Town I went often to Leicester House, but seldom to St. James'. (...) I heard a great deal, too, of my mother's silly work about the Pretender. These things hurt me very much, tho' I could not help them.
(...) The 21st of this month coming from the Oratorio I was told of a great loss the kingdom in general had suffered, and myself in particular, in the Prince of Wales' death; he died of a mortification having got a a cold at tennis. I found my brother had wrote to my Sister Phipps a note to tell her of it, in which he put a postscript at the bottom, saying 'I suppose this will stagger, tho' not fix, your brother Augustus'. I was this evening late with Lord Egmont who was inconsolable, as well he might be, losing such a master and such a friend. (...)
Some months later:
The 25th we left off mourning for the late Prince of Wales, and 'twas observed the King left off deep mourning and second mourning a week each sooner than usual, which was a weakness the poor proud King could not help to show his detastation of his son.
Fritz: Mitchell, aren't we Hohenzollern's lucky to be way more harmonious a family?
In 1752, Augustus is off to Portugal, and this is when the English Casanova designation comes in. According to himself, of course.
I used to go frequently to Odivellas convent and renew my old acquaintance there, and to the English nuns sometimes, where a great party to Odivellas purposely to carry me there and show me all the handsome women that could be brought to the grate. This we had 18th May, and a most delightful evening it was. I got an old woman that had been very useful to the late King, called Ellena, that Don Joao recommended to me. She promised to give a letter for me to the Condessa d'Atougia, but tho' she told me she had, I met no success from it; but she carried me to see a very fine woman at her window that was daughter to the Guarda Mor, and thit if I liked her she would contrive to get us together. In the evening of the 20th I received a letter from tha beautiful creature, sister to Antonio Saltara de Mondoza, and was appointed where to meet her. In this intriguing manner did I spend all my time, having nothing more to do with myself.
The 1st May I went up in one of Don Joao's barges nine leagues up the river to St. Mora, a palace of his. He received me with near twenty horsemen at the water-isde and carried me a-boar-hunting that day, and we had all kinds od diversions whilst there. The 4th we same down in barges the river to Lisbon. I had frequently much cmpany on board to dinner of the Portuegese and the Foreign Ministers. The 7th I was invited to Odivellas again to a great grate by Virgolino, a friend of mine, the late King's favourite's son. There were many m ost beautiful nuns came this evening, and we had music. (...) We stayed late, making love in the frereatica (sic) way (as they all it).
(Footnote from Erskine: "freiratico", as a noun, means Wone who is given too much to the love of nuns" or "one who goes often to nunneries". Perhaps "Nunnish" is the best English equivalent.)
The 18th being a great holiday at La Trinidada, I went in my capola to that church with Virgolino, where were many fine women at Mass, and a great deal of musick. There I saw a very fine country-girl called Vincennes, whom I had followed and got Magdalena to get her for me some days afterwards, and a most lovely piece she was. I went out to Mr. Burn's quinta at Brasio de Plato for two or three days to cool myself in the country, as all this time I was waiting for to get the money of the Rio fleet to carry up to Italy, and the garissons of Gibraltar and Minorca's money.
Mr. Erskine assures us the nuns were most likely not actual nuns who had taken the vows but the great many unmarried daughters of the nobility dumped into nunneries until they got married, or, if a match couldn't be made, to be taken care of.
mildred_of_midgard: I made a mental note to talk about this, and then I read further and you and Mr. Erskine had beaten me to it! I remember Joao V of Portugal was known for being a freiratico, and now that I look up the book where I'd read this, Augustus Hervey is indeed mentioned!King John needed more than religion to sublimate his desires; indeed in his case the ceremonies of the church opened the door for love affairs. He became a 'freiratico', a man who loved nuns. Courting nuns was an old Portuguese custom which long persisted. A generation earlier the duke of Grafton had taken to it with zest and King Pedro, though no mean amorist himself, had made firm rules to restrict access to the grilles of convents. These measures made little difference; the custom was in high favour throughout King John's reign and in 1752 Captain the Hon Augustus Hervey, R. N., no mean connoisseur, found his way to many agreeable assignations. Even in the 1830s British troops stationed in the Azores continued to benefit. The Portuguese nobility bred more daughters than could find husbands; it was not easy to provide them with dowries to secure a gentleman with enough quarterings and unsullied purity of blood. An easier solution and a cheaper one for a girl of good family was to place her in a fashionable convent; these institutions were packed with nubile girls, many of whom had little vocation but a hunger for life. At home an unmarried girl had a dull time; she could never go out, except heavily escorted to church, and her married sisters fared little better. Even the Princess of Brazil who had more facilities than most and came from the court of Spain, where women also went little abroad, complained often of the dullness of the Portugese court. Any girl who fancied a little social life had a far better time in a convent, where at least she could join in parties, concerts, dacnes, and sing-songs, organised often under the guise of religious celebrations. Also she could be wooed through the grilles by all the young men of the district. Convents were regular ports of call for the bright sparks, who sought diversion and had tired of the only other female company available, that of the prostitutes. They strummed their guitars and sang their love songs, and snatched an occasional kiss pressed on an arm stretched through the bars. Often it went no further, but assignations could ensue, and certainly did so in Hervey's time. It must also be remembered that not all the girls had taken their final vows; some were in an intermediate stage; they were scarcely advanced in their novitiate or were merely temporary visitors.
Among those who got beyond the grilles was undoubtedly King John. The time was to come when he preserved his ardour by aphrodisiacs, and the last of his loves, a French actress named Petronilla, had to be sent away for the sake of his health, to continue her successful career in Paris. But in his younger days success in love offset his melancholy and gave him confidence ad inspiration for his manifold activities. One of the earlier and most famous of his loves was a seventeen-year-old of great beauty, who became known as Mother Paula. She was an inmate of the convent of Odivelas, one of the most fashionable and famous, where there had been such toying with advanced ideas that in 1714 one of the nuns had been found guilty of Judaism. The nuns there had luxurious apartments. Mother Paula, whose real name was Teresa da Silva, was paid a handsome allowance; her affair with the king lasted at least ten years from 1718 to 1728, and resulted in one or more children, one of whom was Dom José, one of the Meninos de Palhava, who became Grand Inquisitor; the other Menino, so called after the quinta where they were brought up, was called Dom Antonio and was the son of a French girl. The first nun from Odivelas to captivate the king was Dona Magdalena de Miranda, mother of Dom Gaspar, who became archbishop of Braga. These three were acknowledged sons and all lived to a great age...
Dances in church had been part of many traditional ceremonies; the cardinals restricted them and closed the churches at nightfull, so that they could not be used for assignations. But music and dacing in convents was very popular.
Source: Alan David Francis, Portugal, 1715-1808 : Joanine, Pombaline, and Rococo Portugal as seen by British diplomats and traders, 1985.
Anyway, this is fairly typical for peace time Augustus with the navy. I should add that if his ship is tasked to ferry nobility around, as wiht the Marquis de Bernis, brother to the famous Cardinal (French politician) and his wife (the Marquis is Ambassador at Venice and that's where they are headed), as opposed to concerts and sex this can hahppen:
The 18th we lay thirteen hours under a mainsail with a very violent gale of wind indeed, these people all sick and frightened to death. Most of my own servants were sick too, and I was night and day attending this poor Madame de Bernis, even to giving her the chamber-pot and holding her head and the basin eternally whilst she was sick.
Meanwhile, family news:
The 28th I anchored off Genoa and the next day I got into the mold, where I met with many letters, not very pleasing, as I heard of the prosecution going on with my Sister Fitzgerald and her hsuband to be separated, and Frederick's marriage with MIss Betty Davers, who I was afraid had not fortune enough to make him easy.
Augustus, are you implying Frederick married solely for money and misjudged his bride on that account or that he ought to have married for money due to his expensive tastes but didn't?
1753, and when Augustus is visiting soon to be world famous archaelogical digs near Naples, which Wilhelmine will also visit a few years later, it occurs to me Lady Mary is inn Italy during all this time, but not among the VIPs he encounters that I noticed. Incidentally, Augustus digs Italy and makes no "past its glory days/old coquette" comparisons.
The 29th I went to see the King's palace of Portici, which was very well worth attention from being so very full of all the curious antiquities that had been for many years taken out of the ruins of the city of Pompeii and was daily finding in those new discovered ones of the Herculaneum of Heraclea. I went with the Abbate Camillo Pardorni who had the care of them all, and innumerable they were indeed of every kind, bronzes particularly, fine statues, several utensils of all kinds in gold and silver, rings, seals, in short everything that can be named; the most curious workmanship, and yet preserved, tho' so m any hundred years they had lain inder ground. There were several very fine equestrian statues, vast pillars of various different fine marbles, bronze figures eigght feet high. I went down into the Herculaneum to see the nature of their working there, and to view the amphitheatre they had discovered, but which they could not show but little of as tehy were obliged to fill up with the lava they dug out in order to support the foundations of the palace, which was in part built over all this famous city, destroyed 1,800 years ago. The paintings are all taken up and preserved, and some are still very fresh, and very fine mosaic work there is. The gallery round the amphitheatre and several of the seats are preserved. 'Tis prodigious the variety of things here.
And then there's that time back in Portugal Augustus gets kidnapped by a henchman who turns out not to be a robber but the servant of a lady later to be revealed the Duchess of Castval, who wants to have her way with Augustus.
The lady was of a very fine stature, fine hair, fine teeth and eyes, much painted after the Portuguese manner. She caressed me very much, and told me if she had not seen me so, she should have been the most miserable wretch in the world, as she had been ever since the bull-feast last year that she saw me, and perceived I had taken notice of her. I could not recall any thing about it, nor was I recovered of my surprise, it appeared all a dream to me. She perceived the amazement I was in, and caressed me the more. However, feeling myself in the arms of a very fine and a very luxurious woman, those sensations soon began to get the better of all others, as they were ever ready to do with me. A maid-servant soon after brought some sweetmeats and water. I took only a dried apricot and ate it. She told me our time was short and we must go to bed, which I did not hesitate as she had fired me all over. I put my pocket-pistols under my head, and passed a most jouyous night.
(They part after exchanging notes, so to speak, so they get meet the next time discreetly without any kidnapping.)
By 1755, it's obvious war (with the French) is on the horizon, which means way less time spent on land, and in November, the famous earthquake of Lissabon that causes a big philosophical crisis for many a philosophe and which Voltaire works into Candide happens, destroying two thirds of the city Augustus is familiar with.
The next day, the 9th, we had the sad news of the fatal earuthquake that happened at Lisbon, with many of the hparticulars of that misfortune, and that it had been felt in many places of Euirope, and even across the ocean to Barbary. Machinese in Barbary suffered greatly at the same time. These are frightful events, and ought to inspire reflections that should mend the lives of individuals in order not to deserve such chastisements from Prvoidence. I had several slaves deserted and swam off to me; all those that had not stole anything or done any crime I protected; those who had, I gave up. I sansomed three vessels, and then begun a correspondence with this young lady, whose name was Margherita Carcas. We continued the correspondence tho' I could never get on shore.
Augustus is near Malta at this point, so I assume that's where the slaves escaped from - it was one of the biggest slave markets of the Mediterranean in the previous century, and while now the "market" was more Atlantic and Pacific-oriented, I suppose it was still active.
As far as the French and British are concerned, the 7 Years War then starts not with Fritz invading Saxony but earlier with the French taking Minorca after the Brits lose the previous sea battle, leading to the government scapegoating Admiral Byng, Augustus' boss.
The 31st the Admiral and Mr. West went on shore together, which pleased me very much, as I was in hopes they would be well together. I kept pressing their sailing immediately to endeaovur to find the enemy, and wish my advice had been followed for the next day Admiral West had a letter overland that himself and Mr. Byng were recalled. And sure enough the 2nd July at 10 in the morning the Antelope of 50 guns in thirteen days from England arrived with Sir Edward Hawke and Rear-Admiral Sasunders to relieve Mr. Byng an dWest, Lord Tyrawly to relieve General Fowke, Lord Panmure to relieve General Stuart, Captain Batten and several other officers; the gentelmen relieved wer all to proceed to England immediately, Mr. Byng as a prisoner. Mr. Broderick was made a flag and to go home also. The land officers were superceded for their council of war at Gibraltar before tehy went up, and not complying with the King's orders, and here the whole garrison was astonished to find a set of gentlemen stigmatised only on the accounts of the French admiral, which were the only ones received when these sailed. They did not give time for the arrival of Admiral Byng's express, such was their determination to sacrifice that officer to screen their own wicked heads. Even Sir Edward Hawke, whom I went to see, condemned the hasty manner in which it was done, and much more so the unprecedented infamous reports Lord HOlland, Lord Anson and the Duke of Newcastle encouraged everywhere against Mr. Byng's character in order to raise the mob against him and turn all the resentment and just indignation of the people from themselves to Admiral Byng.
This is one of the passages where as Erskine says you can see Augustus might be working on the basis of his diary but is actually writing years later, for Henry Fox didn't become Lord Holland until the end of the war.
Augustus' indignation about Byng dominates the entire early account of the war.
The 11th we got off Mahon, bu tno French, nor any intelligence concerning them. The 13th we were joined by the Colchester, Captain O'Brien, who brought orders from England for myself and nine other Captains with several officers to go home in the Colchester to attend at Admiral Byng's trial, and it was a very extraordinary thing that all tlhe captains of that fleet should be ordered home but one, and that one Captain Durell, who was the Admiral's immediate second in that action, and was the occasion of the Admiral not being able to get into action the second time. By this ship we heard very much of the most infamous and shameful unheard-of treatment Admiral Byng had met with in England, all occasioned by a hired mob to insult him, and by papers being sent about everywhere to poison the minds of the people and prejudice them against him, in order to screen those wretches Newcastle, Anson and Fox.
Augustus distinguishes himself later at a famous at the time nightly battle involving the ship Monmouth, but the Byng passages are the last from the diary I'll quote for then in 1757, the manuscript ends abruptly, not in a dramatic scene but mid sentence, we know not why. The next quotes are from the letters Erskine provides in the appencides.
As mentioned elsewhere, Augustus wrote to Henry Fox as the one member of the current government he knew via his father, and basically said, more politely and without including Fox in his condemnation, what he writes in his diary re: Byng after describing the battle. Henry Fox forwards this letter to Molly:
Dear Madam, I send you your son's letter. It is private, so I have not shown it to anybody, because the blaming people here will neither do Mr. Hervey nor them any good.
Molly to Henry Fox, in reply: I return you, my dear sir, with a thousand thanks , Augustus' letter which has given me a great deal of pain, as I think even by those accounts every situation was not made the most of. I am heartily vexed at the whole, as an ENglishwoman and as a well-wisher to Byng. A m also frightened lest all those who composed the Council of War should receive censure. Dear Sir, I should be glad to see you before I go on my great journey (to Scotland), but how is it possible? (...) I wish for the sake of England that the new Admirals may do better than Byng, but I wish for Byng's sake that he had done that better. Adieu my dear, I am vexed and uneasy, but ever with truth and faithfully and affectionately yours.
Henry Fox writes back; the start of the letter reassures her on another matter, Augustus having written a presumably love letter to a French lady just before the war broke out:
Dear Madam, - No other harm can happen to Captain Hervey from his imprudence than from a little ridicule as to his being very fond of the French. It was before war was declared, and there was no harm in this letter. (...) I am more afraid that his gratitude to Byng joined to a lively disposition may make him talk imprudently when he finds in how different a light his superiors here look on that Admiral's conduct from that in which his Captains, and particularly Captain Hervey, represent it. I wish I could advise him to do his own duty, as I dare say he will, well; and neither write or speak of that of others. But particularly not to write his thoughts on such occasions.
Molly to Henry Fox (after he forwarded another indignant Augustus letter to her):
I have wrote to Augustus and have given him the best, indeed the only advice I could give him, which is to make use of nothing, but truth in justification of his unhappy friend, as all fallacies and exaggerations can only hurt the man and cause he wishes to serve. But not to employ his utmost powers with truth to vindicate his friend ins what I can neither advise nor wish; on the contrary, I would excite him to it, as it was on like occasion I would do myself at all hazards and perils, and so the best friend I have in the world shall find if ever there is occasion for it, which on his account (why should I not plainly say yours) I hope will never happpen, but if it should, here it is under my hand, and keep it, I beg of you. I have spirit and courage to make it good, tho' fortune and life itself were both concerned. These are perilous times, my dear sir, God knows what may happen. The suffering, perhaps encouraging a mob to declare they will have - or otherwise do themselves - what they call justice, is not only the most wicked, but the most weak and dangerous thing imaginable; if they are supported or allowed to make such insolent illegal declarations, who knows whose turn may be next?
Henry Fox to Molly: The Mob, dear Madam, is not excited against Byng. The greatest care has been taken at least that they should not even get a sight of him. (...) I see no dificulty that Captain Hervey can be under. He will upon oath and will give true evidence. There is no room for friendship for giving evidence, and nobody will blame his doing Mr. Byng all the service he can. If the event should ruin Mr. Byng, that will grieve Mr. Hervey and be distressful, but Mr. Hervey's character as an officer or a man of courage can not bon this occasion be complicated with Mr. Byng's.
Footnote to this whole matter by Erskine: The ruth is that Fox was justified in trying to divert much of the blame for the loss of Minorca onto Byng for his unenterprising behaviour off Mahon - provided he did not exceed the bounds of fairness. The mutilation of the Admmiral's despatch and the tacit, if not active, encouragement of the mob were unworthy incidents in this attempt to make the Admiral scapegoat for all the sins of the ministry; but it was Fox' conduct after the finding and sentence of the Court Martial which can in no way be excused. The love of office and the knowledge that those who advocated leniency were flying in the face of royal and popular favour were too strong for him; he aquiesced at the unjust execution, and that 'fixed' Augustus' Hervey's opinion of him.
To conclude on a more joyful note, Mom Molly to Augustus about his battle heroics with the Monmouth: Indeed, my dear Augustus, if you go on at this rate you will quite blind me. I have been forced to read and write so many answers to letters of congratulations on your behaviour and success that I can hardly see; and this moment I have received your letter of the 22nd July with the pleasing account of farther and greater intrepidity, and, thank God, with safety still on your part.
Molly, a reminder, in her old age hands out a lot of Horace Walpole, who approves of her as he doesn't of Lady Mary:
Mr. Walpole, who is always the first and most obliging on all such occasions, said they were all in joy and full of your praises at Holland House. (...) He is just come into my room with Lady Stanhope and all of them with the newspapers of this morning, which he has just got, in which there is a full and most delightful account of the action and of Commodore Hervey and at the end of it some verses of which these are the last two lines:
"Britons exult! all Gallia trembling stands,
While Hervey executes and Hawke commands!
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Date: 2023-04-02 07:30 pm (UTC)Him and one of Jane Austen's brothers, I believe.
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Date: 2023-04-03 06:36 am (UTC)