Horace Walpole
Horatio Walpole, 4th Earl of Orford (24 September 1717 – 2 March 1797) was an English art historian, man of letters, antiquarian and Whig politician. He is now largely remembered for Strawberry Hill, the home he built in Twickenham, south-west London where he revived the Gothic style some decades before his Victorian successors, and for his Gothic novel, The Castle of Otranto. Along with the book, his literary reputation rests on his Letters, which are of significant social and political interest. He was the son of Sir Robert Walpole, and cousin of the 1st Viscount Nelson.
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... Mr Horace Walpole (1717–1741) Mr Horace Walpole, MP (1741–1742) The Hon ... Horace Walpole, MP (1742–1768) The Hon ... Horace Walpole (1768–1791) The Rt Hon ...
... Madame du Deffand is said by Horace Walpole (in a letter to Thomas Gray) to have been for a short time the mistress of the regent, the duke of Orléans ... Walpole refused at first to acknowledge the closeness of their intimacy from an exaggerated fear of the ridicule attaching to her age, but he paid several visits to Paris expressly for ... death, she left her dog Tonton to the care of Walpole, who was also entrusted with her papers ...
... Horace Walpole claimed Astley's prominence was based "on the peculiarity of his good fortune, rather than by his exertions as an artist..." and added that "his estimated his profession only by his gains ... portrait of British banking heir Tyringham Backwell (1754 — 1777), painted prior to 1777 To Sir Horace Mann, 1st Baronet, an Astley admirer and subject ... second wife Sir Thomas Sebright, 5th baronet Sir Horace Mann (the 1751 pastel portrait was owned by Horace Walpole) Marcus Beresford, 1st Earl of Tyrone, his wife, and daughter, in a ...
Famous quotes containing the words horace walpole and/or walpole:
“Love sits enthroned in Clara’s eyes,
The Graces play her lips around,
And in her cheeks the tendrest dyes
Of lilly mixed with rose are found.
Where charms so irresistless throng
What mortal heart can try resistance?
But ah! her nose is two feet long,
And bids our passions keep their distance.”
—Horace Walpole (1717–1797)
“A poet who makes use of a worse word instead of a better, because the former fits the rhyme or the measure, though it weakens the sense, is like a jeweller, who cuts a diamond into a brilliant, and diminishes the weight to make it shine more.”
—Horace Walpole (1717–1797)