[Footnote 1: Bowles, the poet, on the unexpected arrival of a party to see his grounds, was overheard giving a hurried order to set the fountain playing and carry the hermit his beard.]
Mrs. Piozzi remarks on this passage: “He teased Mrs. Cotton about her dry cascade till she was ready to cry.”
Mrs. Cotton, nee Stapylton, married the eldest son of Sir Lynch Cotton, and was the mother of Field-Marshal Viscount Combermere. She said that Johnson, despite of his rudeness, was at times delightful, having a manner peculiar to himself in relating anecdotes that could not fail to attract both old and young. Her impression was that Mrs. Thrale was very vexatious in wishing to engross all his attention, which annoyed him much. This, I fancy, is no uncommon impression, when we ourselves are anxious to attract notice.
The range of hills bordering the valley or delta of the Clwyd, is very fine. On their being pointed out to him by his host, he exclaimed: “Hills, do you call them?—mere mole-hills to the Alps or to those in Scotland.” On being told that Sir Richard Clough had formed a plan for making the river navigable to Rhyddlan, he broke out into a loud fit of laughter, and shouted—“why, Sir, I could clear any part of it by a leap.” He probably had seen neither the hills nor the river, which might easily be made navigable.
On two occasions, Johnson incidentally imputes a want of liberality to Mrs. Thrale, which the general tenor of her conduct belies:
“August 2.—We went to Dymerchion Church, where the old clerk acknowledged his mistress. It is the parish church of Bach y Graig; a mean fabric; Mr. Salusbury (Mrs. Thrale’s father) was buried in it.... The old clerk had great appearance of joy, and foolishly said that he was now willing to die. He had only a crown given him by my mistress.”
“August 4.—Mrs. Thrale lost her purse. She expressed so much uneasiness that I concluded the sum to be very great; but when I heard of only seven guineas, I was glad to find she had so much sensibility of money.”
Johnson might have remarked, that the annoyance we experience from a loss is seldom entirely regulated by the pecuniary value of the thing lost.
On the way to Holywell he sets down: “Talk with mistress about flattery;” on which she notes: “He said I flattered the people to whose houses we went: I was saucy and said I was obliged to be civil for two, meaning himself and me.[1] He replied nobody would thank me for compliments they did not understand. At Gwanynog (Mr. Middleton’s), however, he was flattered, and was happy of course.”
[Footnote 1: Madame D’Arblay reports Mrs. Thrale saying to Johnson at Streatham, in September, 1778: “I remember, Sir, when we were travelling in Wales, how you called me to account for my civility to the people; ‘Madam,’ you said, ’let me have no more of this idle commendation of nothing. Why is it, that whatever you see, and whoever you see, you are to be so indiscriminately lavish of praise?’ ‘Why I’ll tell you, Sir,’ said I, ’when I am with you, and Mr. Thrale, and Queeny, I am obliged to be civil for four!’”]


