of Houghton.  The crowds that come to see the house stare at him, and ask what creature it is.  As he does not speak one word of Norfolk, there are strange conjectures made about him.  Some think that he is a foreign prince come to marry Lady Mary.  The disaffected say he is a Hanoverian:  but the common people, who observe my lord’s vast fondness for him, take him for his good genius, which they call his familiar.

You will have seen in the papers that Mr. Pelham is at last first lord of the Treasury.  Lord Bath had sent over Sir John Rushout’s valet de chambre to Hanau to ask it.  It is a great question now what side he will take; or rather, if any side will take him.  It is not yet known what the good folks in the Treasury will do-I believe, what they can.  Nothing farther will be determined till the King’s return.

(849) Third son of Prince Craon, and knight of Malta.

(850) This relates to an intrigue which was observed in a church between an English gentleman and a lady who was at Florence with her husband.  Mr. Mann was desired to speak to the lover to choose more proper places.

(851) Prince Craon’s name for the princess.  She was mistress of Leopold, the last Duke of Lorrain, who married her to M. de Beauvau, and prevailed on the Emperor to make him a prince of the empire.  Leopold had twenty children by her, who all resembled him; and he got his death by a cold which he contracted in standing to sea a new house, which he had built for her, furnished.  The duchess was extremely jealous, and once retired to Paris, to complain to her brother the Regent; but he was not a man to quarrel with his brother-in-law for things of that nature, and sent his sister back.  Madame de Craon gave into devotion after the Duke’s death.

(852) August 26.

341 letter 119
To Sir Horace Mann. 
Houghton, Sept. 7, 1743.

My letters are now at their ne plus ultra of nothingness so you may hope they will grow better again.  I shall certainly go to town soon, for my patience is worn out.  Yesterday, the weather grew cold:  I put on a new waistcoat for its being winter’s birthday-the season I am forced to love; for summer has no charms for me when I pass it in the country.

We are expecting another battle, and a congress at the same time.  Ministers seem to be flocking to Aix la Chapelle:  and, what will much surprise you, unless you have lived long enough not to be surprised, is, that Lord Bolingbroke has hobbled the same way too-you will suppose, as a minister for France; I tell you, no.  My uncle, who is here, was yesterday stumping along the gallery with a very political march:  my lord asked him whither he was going.  Oh, said he, to Aix la Chapelle.