(977) Mother of John, Lord Carteret, who succeeded her in the title.

(978) A Florentine, who had employed an abbe of his acquaintance to write an epithalamium on Lord Carteret’s marriage, consisting of eight hundred and forty Latin lines.  Sir H. Mann had given an account of the composition of this piece of literary flattery in one of his letters to Walpole.-D.

(979) Only son of Algernon, Earl of Hertford, afterwards the last Duke of Somerset of that branch. [lord Beauchamp was seized with the smallpox at Bologna, and, after an illness of four days, died on the 11th of September; on which day he had completed his nineteenth year.]

(980) Son of Fitzjames, Duke of Berwick.  This Bishop of Soissons, on the King being given over at Metz, prevailed on him to part with his mistress, the Duchess de Chateauroux; but the King soon recalled her, and confined the bishop to his diocese.

(981) Son of King George II. by Madame Walmoden, created Countess of Yarmouth.

(982) General Braitwitz, commander of the Queen of Hungary’s troops in Tuscany, speaking of the two powers, his mistress and the King of Sardinia, instead of’ saying “ces deux pouvoirs,” said “ces deux potences.”

393 Letter 151 To Sir Horace Mann.  Arlington Street, Nov. 9, 1744.

I find I must not wait any longer for news, if I intend to keep up our correspondence.  Nothing happens; nothing has since I wrote last, but Lord Middlesex’s wedding;(983) which was over above a week before it was known.  I believe the bride told it then; for he and all his family are so silent, that they Would never have mentioned it:  she might have popped out a child, before a single Sackville would have been at the expense of a syllable to justify her.

Our old acquaintance, the Pomfrets, are not so reserved about their great matrimony:  the new Lady Granville was at home the other night for the first time of her being mistress of the house.  I was invited, for I am in much favour with them all, but found myself extremely d`eplac`e:  there was nothing but the Winchilseas and Baths, and the Gleanings of a party stuffed out into a faction, some foreign ministers, and the whole blood of Fermor.  My Lady Pomfret asked me if I corresponded still with the Grifona:  “No,” I said, “since I had been threatened with a regale of hams and Florence wine, I had dropped it.”  My Lady Granville said, “You was afraid of being thought interested.”—­“Yes,” said the queen-mother, with all the importance with which she used to blunder out pieces of heathen mythology, “I think it was very ministerial.”  Don’t you think that the Minister word came in as awkwardly as I did into their room?  The Minister is most gracious to me; he has returned my visit, which, you know, IS never practised by that rank:  I put it all down to my father’s account, who is not likely to keep up the civility.