The Countess of Northumberland was a jovial heap of contradictions. The blood of all the Percies and Seymours swelled in her veins and in her fancy; while her person was more vulgar than anything but her conversation, which was larded indiscriminately with stories of her ancestors and her footmen. Show, and crowds, and junketting, were her endless pursuits. She was familiar with the mob, while stifled with diamonds; and yet was attentive to the most minute privileges of her rank, while almost shaking hands with a cobbler. Nothing was more mean than her assiduity about the King and Queen, whom she termed her _Master_ and _Mistress_; and yet, though indirectly reprimanded by the latter, she persisted in following her Majesty to the theatres with a longer retinue of domestics than waited on the Queen herself. She had revived the drummers and pipers and obsolete minstrels of her family; and her own buxom countenance at the tail of such a procession, gave it all the air of an antiquated pageant or mumming. She was mischievous under the appearance of frankness; generous and friendly without delicacy or sentiment.[486] Lord Northumberland’s son, Lord Warkworth, was married to the third daughter of the Favourite;[487] on which foundation the father was admitted to the private junto, which now met daily at Mr. Stone’s.[488] It was composed of Lord Bute, Lord Northumberland, Lord Mansfield, Norton, Stone, and the brother of the latter, the famous Primate of Ireland, who bad followed the Lord-Lieutenant to London; coming, as he outwardly professed, to promote harmony and reconciliation. As he died soon after, before he had given any specimens of his arts here, I pretend not to say what were the real motives of his journey. He did visit Mr. Pitt; but a man so notorious for cunning as the Primate, was not likely to win on the _caution_ of Mr. Pitt, who never _was explicit_, and least of all to men of abilities. It appeared, however, from the meetings I have mentioned, and other symptoms, that the Favourite was peeping out of his lurking-hole, and was disposed to let his power be felt. Grenville, though drunk with vanity, was sober enough to be stung with any competition; and yet his obstinacy disgusted those whom it was most necessary for him to attach. He offended the Duke of Bedford and Lord Halifax by refusing to let the Treasury bear the whole charge of the fines imposed on the messengers. The Duke experienced so many slights, that he kept retired in the country, and Rigby went to France, professing that it was to be absent, lest he should be blamed if the Duke should submit to such ignominious treatment; but Rigby had, no doubt, secured the Duke’s submission before he ventured to leave him, as he called it, to himself. However, the Duke of Cumberland was so much misled by those wayward humours, that before the end of the summer he sent Lord Albemarle[489] to Woburn, to sound their dispositions, and endeavour to draw them from the Court.