1   “She was a hot-tempered woman, who was capable of pouring boiling water over Joseph Baretti at her tea-table. [...] To one of her servants Mrs. Paradise said, when presiding at a dinner-party, ‘If you bring me a dirty plate again I will break your head with it.’ The circumstances under which she over-weighted Richard Paul Jodrell's phaeton must be left to discreet conjecture.” - Nollekens and His Times by John Thomas Smith

“She had a habit of entertaining callers in a carriage rolled to and fro on the back porch by a servant and gained a reputation for eccentricity. Eventually she was committed to the Public Hospital, a mental institution. The house remained in the family. In 1926, a few days after Rockefeller secretly commissioned Dr. Goodwin to draft plans for restorations in Williamsburg, the Ludwell-Paradise House came on the market for $8,000. Rockefeller, who insisted his name not yet be connected with the restoration, had twice visited the city, explored it, and seen the home. On the first trip, Goodwin had taken a shine to Rockefeller's small son, David. In a pair of letters written December 4, Goodwin informed Rockefeller of the opportunity. Rockefeller wired a reply from New York that arrived at 11:28 a.m. December 7. It said: Authorize purchase of antique referred to in your long letter of December four at eight on basis outlined in shorter letter of same date. David's Father.” - “Ludwell-Paradise House” by the Colonial Williamsburg Foundation

2   “His application and devotion to his investigations in the early hours of morning were condemned by his mother-in-law, who actually told him, that she had never intended his daughter to be the wife of a monk; and, unlike our first parent, Eve, she recommended abstinence from the tree of knowledge. In reply, Mr. Kirwan, a little ruffled, made some unlucky allusions to the champagne he had drank on the evening he proposed for the lady; but this little altercation did not in the least interrupt the harmony which subsisted between him and his wife.” - “Appendix No. VIII: Biographical Account of the Late Richard Kirwan, Esq.” by Michael Donovan, Proceedings of the Royal Irish Academy, Vol. 4, (1847 - 1850)

“First on the list I must place Mr. Kirwan, the well-known geologist and natural philosopher, who passed a good deal of time at Lyons, and ultimately purchased a residence in the neighbourhood. He was a man of extreme simplicity of character, but had attained so eminent a scientific reputation, that, even during the hottest period of the war, his letters were suffered to pass free from all parts of Europe. He was very social and entertaining; but in consequence of a convulsive affection of his throat, which rendered it disagreeable to him to eat in presence of others, it was his habit to dine alone, and not to join our party until dinner was over.” - Personal Recollections of the Life and Times, with Extracts from the Correspondence, of Valentine Lord Cloncurry

“The pleasures from the touch are so few that they scarce need being mentioned; even that of warmth pleases only by the contrast with its antagonist, cold; that of smoothness is inconsiderable, though its opposite, roughness, causes much uneasiness.” - “Of Happiness" by Richard Kirwan, The Transactions of the Royal Irish Academy, Vol. 11, (1810)

3   “We all seem in a good humour disposed to be pleased, endeavour to be agreeable and I hope succeed. Poor Lady Saye & Sele to be sure is rather tormenting, tho’ sometimes amusing, and affords Jane many a good laugh — but she fatigues me sadly on the whole.” - Cassandra Leigh Austen, August 13, 1806

4   “Lady Sarah is, as always, shown driving a very high gig, poised on high springs, with four horses; she was famous for driving matching greys. She wears a feathered hat and a coat of masculine cut — hall-marks which were always picked on by cartoonists who hated her ‘unfeminine’ appearance. On the side of the gig is an ‘A’ surmounted by a baron’s coronet. ‘A’ also appears on the harness of the horses.” - “Lady Sarah Archer, facing the Press” by Mike Rendell

5   From The Monthly Review; or, Literary Journal, Volume 80 (1789):

Julia de Gramont. By the RightHonourable Lady H****. 12mo. 2 Vols. 7s. sewed.   White.   1788.

The world of letters is a kind of Elysium, the various members of which are ever ruminating or dreaming of scenes of unutterable bliss. Without inquiring whether those dreams are likely to be realized we will only observe that in the former estate as in the latter there is no distinction of persons. We therefore hope that Lady Hawke † does in no sort think to stand upon her gentility, as Master Stephen expresses it: or even upon her nobility — if that has a more pleasing sound, when she appears before the public in the character of an author. The “eternal blazon” of Right Honourable, as many may be inclined to think it, dazzles us not in the least: we mean in the common acceptation of the words.— Virtue alone is true nobility, says the Poet; and we will venture to give it as our opinion, from a perusal of the present volumes, that the writer of them is perfectly sensible that the adage (for so it may be termed) is just and true.

This novel reflects particular honour on its author. It is moral, pathetic, and interesting. The fable is made up of a pleasing diversity of incidents; and is so artfully constructed, that attention is kept alive all the close of the work. The narrative is generally animated; but the style is in some places rather too flowery and poetic. The noble writer appears to have derived her manner from an intimate acquaintance with the novelists of France. But what is pleasing in them, and such indeed as the genius of their language demands, is considered as affected and fantastical with us. The characteristics of the English tongue, it should be remembered, are nervousness and simplicity.

† For this according to report is the name of the fair writer

From The Analytical Review, Or History of Literature, Domestic and Foreign, on an Enlarged Plan, Volume 1 (1788)

JULIA DE GRAMONT. By the Right Honourable Lady H****. 2 vol. fool's cap. 8vo. 600 p. pr. 6s. sewed. White.

It is almost sufficient to say of this insipid production, that its preposterous incidents and absurd sentiments, can only be equalled by the affected and unintelligible phrases the author has laboriously culled. The style adopted by an able pen, was never before so miserably caricatured; abstract qualities are continually introduced instead of persons, and flowing periods in the place of sense.

We cannot attempt to soar to the exalted altitude of inborn sensibility, or the imaginary heights of artificial virtue: indeed, if we had only cursorily glanced over these pages, we should have supposed we were perusing a translation of one of the sublime French romances.

We shall subjoin some quotations, many sentences we only present, as a mere collection of words, for the meaning they were designed to convey, we could not comprehend.

‘Dissimulation and coquetry were strangers to that innocent bosom, animated only by the delicate sensibility of conscious innocence.’

‘The invitation was too flattering to Augustus, to meet with a rejection: his impassioned looks sought the averted eyes of Julia.’

‘Hope, that insinuating delusive phantom, the heart’s gay flatterer in our spring of life, banished awhile each painful apprehension; and her gentle bosom became the serene repository of smiling pleasure.’

‘Suddenly recollecting herself, she wiped away the traces of her woe.’

‘With all the dazzling lustre of that enchanting beauty which now shines in you!’

‘Her charms, it is true, were unimpaired; but the roseate bloom of happiness had forsaken her cheek: yet the delicate languor, the look of plaintive sweetness, that remained, only rendered her more interestingly lovely.’

‘Never, never let the cruel officiousness of friendship urge me to disclose a name sacred to silence.’

‘Oh! may that heaven with enlightening beams recall him from the paths of error!’

‘Arrayed with satisfaction the exterior expression of her countenance.’ ‘Inborn dignity.’ ‘Inborn delicacy.’

‘Your son, happy that your approbation sanctifies his choice, has breathed to Mademoiselle Neuville accepted vows.’

‘Her head reclined to rest the cheek of her expiring lord; and animated alone by the pearly dew of sensibility.’

‘And what imagination seemed alone to paint, by musing fancy’s recollective power, my raptured eyes now realize before me.’

‘Scarcely have twenty-four revolving moons passed by, since this widowed hand was plighted to a husband — for whom I forfeited a daughter’s name.’

‘Ah, no!— my fatal presence would dim with tears your hymeneal torch!— Should I dare to approach the altar of propitious love, parental approbation would shun the advance of filial disobedience, and think its holy rites profaned by such a witness.’

‘Dear deceiver.’ ‘Exchanged for the soft cradle of reposing infancy was the cold bed of death.’

‘He spoke — he sighed — he died!’ ‘The milk of sweetness hung upon her tongue.’

‘The exemplary conduct of the Marchioness, even to the last instance, remembered the dictates of filial duty.’

W. [Mary Wollstonecraft]

6   From The Public Advertiser, February 5, 1782:

On Saturday a Packet was received at the Secretary of State’s Office from his Majesty's Minister at Hamburgh, containing Information that Advices had been received of the Loss of two Dutch Men of War, which broke from their Moorings in the Texel, and were beat to-pieces on the Shallows.

The new Comedy at Drury-lane, is certainly not the Production of Mr. Sheridan’s Sister, to whom it has been given; but who the Author is, has not transpired. The Names of Lady Hawke, Mrs. Greville, and Miss Burney, have all been held out to the Public, and ’tis now declared to belong to neither. The Comedy at Covent Garden seems involved in still greater Obscurity; Mrs. Brooke, Mrs. Cowley, Doctor Franklin, and an Officer of the Name of Gerrard, have each been the reputed Parent — but from the Spirit and Turn of the Play, it most probably belongs to the last, as it is said to abound with those Kind of Feelings that would naturally break from the Mind of a young Soldier, full of the Importance of his Situation, at a Period so critical to his Country.

Mrs. Robinson lies dangerously ill of a violent Fever, at her House in Berkley Square, attended by two Physicians.

7   She was, and Cecilia would be even more mortifyingly successful.

8   From The Morning Herald, July 3, 1788:

Lord SAYE and SELE.

The death of this Nobleman was the consequence of an act, over which it is impossible that the veil of secrecy can be thrown. We would readily suppress the mention of it, were it not that the omission might become an imputation against our sources of information;—and it is possible the fact may be extravagantly stated in other Prints.

For some days previous to his Lordship’s death, an uncommon degree of inquietude seemed to incumber his spirits;—he frequently burst into tears, but assigned no satisfactory motive for his uneasiness. On the morning of his dissolution, Tuesday last, he submitted to have his hair dressed, but appeared very impatient during this operation:— Soon after, the servant quitted his presence, he seized a sword, which about four years since was given him by the Duc de Conflans, and stabbing himself violently in three different parts of the body, almost immediately expired.

...

Collins, whose entré is sufficient to set the audience in a roar, beggared all description in his humorous recital of “Mrs. Piozzi’s Three Warnings of Death;” and his song of the “Prophetical Pig,” has a turn of original wit, not to be equalled.

From The World, July 4, 1788:

LORD SAYE and SELE.

There is not the smallest doubt, that the mental disorder of Lord SAY and SELE amounted to LUNACY — when the sad deed was done, by which society are bereft of him.

That there is not any hereditary infirmity of this sort in the family, is well known:— the distemper was symptomatic, in this instance, the relick of a fever, not a little violent, and never criticising completely.

On FRIDAY LAST, however, the fever had so apparently mitigated, by the pulse, that his Physicians allowed him to return to some of the customary habits of health:— He was indulged in his desire for a little animal food — to take a little wine — and to have exercise in his carriage.

He went in his carriage beyond BAYSWATER. And at KENSINGTON GRAVEL PITS, ordering the coach to stop, he got out and walked.

The servant followed at the usual distance; and when his Master, after a few moments musing over the water, which from the storm the day before, had swelled to some height, attempted to hurry himself into the depth, the interference of the servant succeeded, and his Lordship, without further mischief, was led back to the carriage!

From that moment, the attendance became proportionately more strict and constant — For not one moment but the last, alas! had he been left alone!

Then it was, that the Servant, having shaved him, was directed to go down, and put a shirt to the fire — and in that brief interval, before he returned — the fatal calamity happened!

How it was done, is a Narrative of needless Horror — The Razor, which had been just used, was left on the table, and there was a Sword, forgotten, in his dressing-draw: They both participated in the purpose — So unhappily ACUTE is MADNESS! — So DETERMINED is DESPAIR!

On the return of the Servant, the door, which had been bolted and locked, was broken open — and they who most deplore the death, saw it befal in the arms of the attendant, Moran.

The FEVER, obviously was the efficient cause of all — but yet, perhaps, some of that morbid Sensibility, which might predispose to this effect, may be traced to an other disaster — a disaster which, in proportion to the refining quality of a temper, would be more forcibly impressed — more willingly retained!

It was at BUNKER’S HILL — Lord SAY and SELE, and his two Brothers, the Mr. THOMPSONS, were in the Battle. They were in different parts of the action; and it was the horse of Lord SAY HIMSELF, who, galloping with much ardor on a charge, kicked, with much violence, a human body, fallen in the Field — Lord SAY dismounted, and found, what his horse had hurt — was the Body of his DEAD BROTHER!

The remaining Mr. THOMPSON, and Mr. LEIGH his Son-in-law, are the Executors. They are both arrived, but neither they, though so fitted by their own griefs, to meet the grief of others, nor can ought else, bring consolation where it is so much more wanted!

If the value of any man is to be estimated by the emotions of his survivors, there never was more DOMESTIC LOSS! For there never could be MORE DOMESTIC LAMENTATION.

LADY SAYE and SELE, and Mrs. LEIGH, are at Lady HAWKE’S.

9   “Sir Gregory Page Turner, who rose to speak to order, was himself called to order from the chair; but continued on his legs for some minutes, exclaiming he meant to be orderly; but insisted on the right of speaking to order. [...] Sir Gregory Page Turner chose, he said, to profess his vote, that it might be known both within and without doors; he had so implicit a confidence in the Minister, that he would give his vote for the present measure, though he conceived it would have been more advantageous had marines been employed. He concluded by saying, that he confided so thoroughly in the Right Hon. Gentleman, which confidence he openly averred, that as he always had supported him, so he would continue to, in any measure he brought forward, as long as he had a seat in that House.” - The Public Advertiser, December 11, 1787

“When the gallery was again opened, we found Sir Gregory Page Turner complaining to the House of a morning paper having misrepresented his speech of Monday, and declared, that whenever the Hon. Baronet (Sir John Miller) should move for the expulsion of strangers, he would second him.” - The Public Advertiser, December 12, 1787

“The accuracy and point of Sir Gregory Page Turner’s plan for the Marine service, must have given the Minister a fund of information, though only expressed in the laconic terms of — something being done for them.” - The World, December 20, 1787

“Sir George Collier rose, and was called to by the Speaker, but Sir Gregory Page Turner having risen at the same time, persisted in standing up. The Speaker thereupon told the latter, that he had seen Sir George up first, and it was his duty to name the Member to speak, unless over-ruled by the authority of the House. Sir Gregory, upon this, gave way. [...] Sir Gregory Page Turner begged pardon for having disturbed the Speaker at so peculiar a moment (the Speaker when Sir Gregory first rose had left the Chair for a necessary occasion) he had not, he declared, intended to have said a word in the debate, but, for something that had fallen from the Hon. Baronet opposite to him, Sir Richard Hill. He had understood the Baronet to say, that the House had no right to interfere. The House had undoubtedly a right to interfere, but the Question was not, whether they had a right, but whether they would exercise that right? From what he had heard in the debate, and he had paid great attention to all the arguments, he was convinced, the House ought not to exercise their right of interfering. What had fallen from the Right Hon. Chancellor of the Exchequer had convinced him that it would be improper for the House to interfere, notwithstanding its constitutional right so to do. Sir Gregory spoke of the independence of his vote on that and every other occasion, and declared he ever would vote as his conscience directed. Sir Richard Hill declared he had not said a word relative to the right of the House to interfere, nor ever meant to question it. Sir Gregory apologized for his mistake.” - The Morning Chronicle and London Advertiser, April 19, 1788

10   Much later in life, working over her copy of the letter, Madame d'Arblay replaced “as if it had been true” with “as I could command.”