ters, Lord Thomond,
Mr. Boufoy, the Duke, the old Duchess, and two of his brothers. Would
you believe that nothing was ever better humoured than the ancient
Grace? She stayed every evening till it was dark in the skittle-ground,
keeping the score; and one night, that the servants had a ball for Lady
Dorothy's birthday, we fetched the fiddler into the drawing-room, and
the dowager herself danced with us! I never was more disappointed than
at Chatsworth,[2] which, ever since I was born, I have condemned. It is
a glorious situation; the vale rich in corn and verdure, vast woods hang
down the hills, which are green to the top, and the immense rocks only
serve to dignify the prospect. The river runs before the door, and
serpentises more than you can conceive in the vale. The Duke is widening
it, and will make it the middle of his park; but I don't approve an idea
they are going to execute, of a fine bridge with statues under a noble
cliff. If they will have a bridge (which by the way will crowd the
scene), it should be composed of rude fragments, such as the giant of
the Peak would step upon, that he might not be wetshod. The expense of
the works now carrying on will amount to forty thousand pounds. A heavy
quadrangle of stables is part of the plan, is very cumbrous, and
standing higher than the house, is ready to overwhelm it. The principal
front of the house is beautiful, and executed with the neatness of
wrought plate; the inside is most sumptuous, but did not please me; the
heathen gods, goddesses, Christian virtues, and allegoric gentlefolks,
are crowded into every room, as if Mrs. Holman had been in heaven and
invited everybody she saw. The great apartment is first; painted
ceilings, inlaid floors, and unpainted wainscots make every room
_sombre_. The tapestries are fine, but not fine enough, and there are
few portraits. The chapel is charming. The great _jet d'eau_ I like, nor
would I remove it; whatever is magnificent of the kind in the time it
was done, I would retain, else all gardens and houses wear a tiresome
resemblance. I except that absurdity of a cascade tumbling down marble
steps, which reduces the steps to be of no use at all. I saw Haddon, an
abandoned old castle of the Rutlands, in a romantic situation, but which
never could have composed a tolerable dwelling. The Duke sent Lord John
[Cavendish] with me to Hardwicke, where I was again disappointed; but I
will not take relations from others; they either don'