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12 August 1772: Writing to George Selwyn, Horace Walpole contemplates a living death at Castle Howard

Horace Walpole. 1844. Letters of Horace Walpole, Earl of Orford, Vol. 2/2. Philadelphia: Lea and Blanchard. Get it:

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Excerpt

I love to please you when it is in my power, and how can I please you more than by commending Castle Howard? for though it is not the House that Jack built, yet you love even the cow with the crumpled horn that feeds in the meadow that belongs to the House that Jack’s grand-father built. Indeed, I can say with exact truth, that I never was so agreeably astonished in my days as with the first vision of the whole place. I had heard of Vanbrugh, and how Sir Thomas Robinson and he stood spitting and swearing at one another; nay, I have heard of glorious views, and Lord Stafford alone had told me I should see one of the finest places in Yorkshire; but nobody, no, not votre partialité, as Louis Quatorze would have called you, had informed me that I should at one view see a palace, a town, a fortified city, temples on high places, woods worthy of being each a metropolis of the druids, vales connected to hills by other woods, the noblest lawn in the world fenced by half the horizon, and a mausoleum that would tempt one to be buried alive.

To facilitate reading, the spelling and punctuation of elderly excerpts have generally been modernised, and distracting excision scars concealed. My selections, translations, and editions are copyright.

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Original

York, Aug. 12th, 1772
Dear George,

I love to please you when it is in my power, and how can I please you more than by commending Castle Howard? for though it is not the House that Jack built, yet you love even the cow with the crumpled horn that feeds in the meadow that belongs to the House that Jack’s grand-father built. Indeed, I can say with exact truth, that I never was so agreeably astonished in my days as with the first vision of the whole place. I had heard of Vanbrugh, and how Sir Thomas Robinson and he stood spitting and swearing at one another; nay, I have heard of glorious views, and Lord Stafford alone had told me I should see one of the finest places in Yorkshire; but nobody, no, not votre partialité, as Louis Quatorze would have called you, had informed me that I should at one view see a palace, a town, a fortified city, temples on high places, woods worthy of being each a metropolis of the Druids, vales connected to hills by other woods, the noblest lawn in the world fenced by half the horizon, and a mausoleum that would tempt one to be buried alive; in short, I have seen gigantic places before, but never a sublime one. For the House, Vanbrugh has even shown taste in its extent and cupolas, and has mercifully omitted ponderosity. Sir Thomas’s front is beautiful without, and, except in one or two spots, has not a bad effect, and I think, without much effort of genius, or much expense, might be tolerably harmonized with the rest. The spaces within are noble, and were wanted; even the hall being too small. Now I am got into the hall, I must beg, when you are in it next, to read Lord Carlisle’s verses on Gray, and then write somewhere under the story of Phaeton these lines, which I ought to have made extempore, but did not till I was half way back thither:

Carlisle, expunge the form of Phaeton;
Assume the car, and grace it with thy own,
For Phœbus owns in thee no falling son.

Oh! George, were I such a poet as your friend, and possessed such a Parnassus, I would instantly scratch my name out of the buttery-book of Almack’s; be admitted, ad eundem, among the muses; and save every doit to lay it out in making a Helicon, and finishing my place.

I found my Lord Northampton:* his name is on his picture, though they showed me his nephew Suffolk’s portrait, who was much fatter, for his. There is a delicious whole-length of Queen Mary, with all her folly in her face and her hand, and a thousand other things, which I long to talk over with you. When you write to Spa, pray thank Lord Carlisle, for the great civilities I received here. The house-keeper showed me and told me every thing, and even was so kind as to fetch Rosette a basin of water, which completed the conquest of my heart. Wine I was offered, and fruit was heaped on me, and even dinner was tendered; in short I never passed a day more to my content. I only wanted you, and I should have been as happy as I was at Iceaux; you know my ecstacies when I am really pleased. By the end of next week I shall be in town, and hope to find you there, that we may satisfy both ourselves with larger details.

When I mentioned the attentions paid to me, I am ungrateful to forget the sun, who was complaisance itself, shone all day, gilt a hundred hay-cocks that were spread over the great lawn, and illuminated the mausoleum during my dinner. And now, will you tell me that Lord Carlisle is not nearer related to him than some folks thought? Let me tell you, this is much better authenticated than his lordship’s priority to Howard of Corbie, in which you are mistaken, and so good night.

Your most cordially,

Hor. Walpole

709 words.

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