LETTER 12.
LONDON, Dec. 23, 1710.
I have sent my 11th to-night as usual, and begin the dozenth, and I told you I
dined with Stratford at Lord Mountjoy's, and I will tell you no more at
present, guess for why; because I am going to mind things, and mighty affairs,
not your nasty First-Fruits--I let them alone till Mr. Harley gets the Queen's
letter--but other things of greater moment, that you shall know one day, when
the ducks have eaten up all the dirt. So sit still a while just by me, while
I am studying, and don't say a word, I charge you, and when I am going to bed,
I will take you along, and talk with you a little while, so there, sit there.-
-Come then, let us see what we have to say to these saucy brats, that will not
let us go sleep at past eleven. Why, I am a little impatient to know how you
do; but that I take it for a standing maxim, that when you are silent, all is
pretty well, because that is the way I will deal with you; and if there was
anything you ought to know now, I would write by the first post, although I
had written but the day before. Remember this, young women; and God Almighty
preserve you both, and make us happy together; and tell me how accompts stand
between us, that you may be paid long before it is due, not to want. I will
return no more money while I stay, so that you need not be in pain to be paid;
but let me know at least a month before you can want. Observe this, d'ye
hear, little dear sirrahs, and love Presto, as Presto loves MD, etc.
24. You will have a merrier Christmas Eve than we here. I went up to Court
before church; and in one of the rooms, there being but little company, a
fellow in a red coat without a sword came up to me, and, after words of
course, asked me how the ladies did? I asked, "What ladies?" He said, "Mrs.
Dingley and Mrs. Johnson." "Very well," said I, "when I heard from them last:
and pray when came you from thence, sir?" He said, "I never was in Ireland";
and just at that word Lord Winchelsea[1] comes up to me, and the man went off:
as I went out I saw him again, and recollected him, it was Vedeau[2] with a
pox: I then went and made my apologies, that my head was full of something I
had to say to Lord Winchelsea, etc., and I asked after his wife, and so all
was well; and he inquired after my lodging, because he had some favour to
desire of me in Ireland, to recommend somebody to somebody, I know not what it
is. When I came from church, I went up to Court again, where Sir Edmond
Bacon[3] told me the bad news from Spain,[4] which you will hear before this
reaches you; as we have it now, we are undone there, and it was odd to see the
whole countenances of the Court changed so in two hours. Lady Mountjoy[5]
carried me home to dinner, where I stayed not long after, and came home early,
and now am got into bed, for you must always write to your MD's in bed, that
is a maxim.
Mr. White and Mr. Red,
Write to MD when abed;
Mr. Black and Mr. Brown,
Write to MD when you're down;
Mr. Oak and Mr. Willow,
Write to MD on your pillow.--
What is this? faith, I smell fire; what can it be? this house has a thousand
stinks in it. I think to leave it on Thursday, and lodge over the way.
Faith, I must rise, and look at my chimney, for the smell grows stronger,
stay--I have been up, and in my room, and found all safe, only a mouse within
the fender to warm himself, which I could not catch. I smelt nothing there,
but now in my bed-chamber I smell it again; I believe I have singed the
woollen curtain, and that is all, though I cannot smoke it. Presto is plaguy
silly to-night, an't he? Yes, and so he be. Ay, but if I should wake and see
fire. Well; I will venture; so good-night, etc.
25. Pray, young women, if I write so much as this every day, how will this
paper hold a fortnight's work, and answer one of yours into the bargain? You
never think of this, but let me go on like a simpleton. I wish you a merry
Christmas, and many, many a one with poor Presto at some pretty place. I was
at church to-day by eight, and received the Sacrament, and came home by ten;
then went to Court at two: it was a Collar-day, that is, when the Knights of
the Garter wear their collars; but the Queen stayed so late at Sacrament, that
I came back, and dined with my neighbour Ford, because all people dine at home
on this day. This is likewise a Collar-day all over England in every house,
at least where there is BRAWN: that's very well.--I tell you a good pun; a
fellow hard by pretends to cure agues, and has set out a sign, and spells it
EGOES; a gentleman and I observing it, he said, "How does that fellow pretend
to cure AGUES?" I said I did not know; but I was sure it was not by a SPELL.
That is admirable. And so you asked the Bishop about that pun of Lord
Stawel's brother. Bite! Have I caught you, young women? Must you pretend to
ask after roguish puns, and Latin ones too? Oh but you smoked me, and did not
ask the Bishop. Oh but you are a fool, and you did. I met Vedeau again at
Court to-day, and I observed he had a sword on; I fancy he was broke, and has
got a commission, but I never asked him. Vedeau I think his name is, yet
Parvisol's man is Vedel, that is true. Bank Stock will fall like stock-fish
by this bad news, and two days ago I could have got twelve pounds by my
bargain; but I do not intend to sell, and in time it will rise. It is odd
that my Lord Peterborow foretold this loss two months ago, one night at Mr.
Harley's, when I was there; he bid us count upon it, that Stanhope would lose
Spain before Christmas; that he would venture his head upon it, and gave us
reasons; and though Mr. Harley argued the contrary, he still held to his
opinion. I was telling my Lord Angelsea this at Court this morning; and a
gentleman by said he had heard my Lord Peterborow affirm the same thing. I
have heard wise folks say, "An ill tongue may do much." And 'tis an odd
saying,
"Once I guessed right,
And I got credit by't;
Thrice I guessed wrong,
And I kept my credit on."
No, it is you are sorry, not I.
26. By the Lord Harry, I shall be undone here with Christmas boxes. The
rogues of the Coffee-house have raised their tax, everyone giving a crown; and
I gave mine for shame, besides a great many half-crowns to great men's
porters, etc. I went to-day by water into the city, and dined with no less a
man than the City Printer.[6] There is an intimacy between us, built upon
reasons that you shall know when I see you; but the rain caught me within
twelvepenny length of home. I called at Mr. Harley's, who was not within,
dropped my half-crown with his porter, drove to the Coffee-house, where the
rain kept me till nine. I had letters to-day from the Archbishop of Dublin
and Mr. Bernage;[7] the latter sends me a melancholy account of Lady
Shelburne's[8] death, and his own disappointments, and would gladly be a
captain; if I can help him, I will.
27. Morning. I bespoke a lodging over the way for tomorrow, and the dog let
it yesterday to another; I gave him no earnest, so it seems he could do it;
Patrick would have had me give him earnest to bind him; but I would not. So I
must go saunter to-day for a lodging somewhere else. Did you ever see so open
a winter in England? We have not had two frosty days; but it pays it off in
rain: we have not had three fair days these six weeks. O, faith, I dreamt
mightily of MD last night; but so confused, I cannot tell a word. I have made
Ford acquainted with Lewis; and to-day we dined together: in the evening I
called at one or two neighbours, hoping to spend a Christmas evening; but none
were at home, they were all gone to be merry with others. I have often
observed this, that in merry times everybody is abroad; where the deuce are
they? So I went to the Coffee-house, and talked with Mr. Addison an hour, who
at last remembered to give me two letters, which I cannot answer to-night, nor
to-morrow neither, I can assure you, young women, count upon that. I have
other things to do than to answer naughty girls, an old saying and true,
Letters from MD's
Must not be answered in ten days:
it is but bad rhyme, etc.
28. To-day I had a message from Sir Thomas Hanmer, to dine with him; the
famous Dr. Smalridge[9] was of the company, and we sat till six; and I came
home to my new lodgings in St. Albans Street,[10] where I pay the same rent
(eight shillings a week) for an apartment two pair of stairs; but I have the
use of the parlour to receive persons of quality, and I am got into my new
bed, etc.
29. Sir Andrew Fountaine has been very ill this week; and sent to me early
this morning to have prayers, which you know is the last thing. I found the
doctors and all in despair about him. I read prayers to him, found he had
settled all things; and, when I came out, the nurse asked me whether I thought
it possible he could live; for the doctors thought not. I said, I believed he
would live; for I found the seeds of life in him, which I observe seldom fail
(and I found them in poor, dearest Stella, when she was ill many years ago);
and to-night I was with him again, and he was mightily recovered, and I hope
he will do well, and the doctor approved my reasons; but, if he should die, I
should come off scurvily. The Secretary of State (Mr. St. John) sent to me to
dine with him; Mr. Harley and Lord Peterborow dined there too; and at night
came Lord Rivers. Lord Peterborow goes to Vienna in a day or two: he has
promised to make me write to him. Mr. Harley went away at six; but we stayed
till seven. I took the Secretary aside, and complained to him of Mr. Harley,
that he had got the Queen to grant the First-Fruits, promised to bring me to
her, and get her letter to the bishops of Ireland; but the last part he had
not done in six weeks, and I was in danger to lose reputation, etc. He took
the matter right, desired me to be with him on Sunday morning, and promises me
to finish the affair in four days; so I shall know in a little time what I
have to trust to.--It is nine o'clock, and I must go study, you little rogues;
and so good-night, etc.
30. Morning. The weather grows cold, you sauceboxes. Sir Andrew Fountaine,
they bring me word, is better. I will go rise, for my hands are starving
while I write in bed. Night. Now Sir Andrew Fountaine is recovering, he
desires to be at ease; for I called in the morning to read prayers, but he had
given orders not to be disturbed. I have lost a legacy by his living; for he
told me he had left me a picture and some books, etc. I called to see my
quondam neighbour Ford (do you know what quondam is, though?), and he engaged
me to dine with him; for he always dines at home on Opera-days. I came home
at six, writ to the Archbishop, then studied till past eleven, and stole to
bed, to write to MD these few lines, to let you know I am in good health at
the present writing hereof, and hope in God MD is so too. I wonder I never
write politics to you: I could make you the profoundest politician in all the
lane.--Well, but when shall we answer this letter, No. 8 of MD's? Not till
next year, faith. O Lord--bo--but that will be a Monday next. Cod's-so, is
it? and so it is: never saw the like.--I made a pun t'other day to Ben
Portlack[11] about a pair of drawers. Poh, said he, that's mine a--- all
over. Pray, pray, Dingley, let me go sleep; pray, pray, Stella, let me go
slumber; and put out my wax-candle.
31. Morning. It is now seven, and I have got a fire, but am writing abed in
my bed-chamber. 'Tis not shaving-day, so I shall be ready early to go before
church to Mr. St. John; and to-morrow I will answer our MD's letter.
Would you answer MD's letter,
On New Year's Day you'll do it better;
For, when the year with MD 'gins,
It without MD never lins.
(These proverbs have always old words in them; lins is leave off.)
But, if on New Year you write nones,
MD then will bang your bones.
But Patrick says I must rise.--Night. I was early this morning with Secretary
St. John, and gave him a memorial to get the Queen's letter for the First-
Fruits, who has promised to do it in a very few days. He told me he had been
with the Duke of Marlborough, who was lamenting his former wrong steps in
joining with the Whigs, and said he was worn out with age, fatigues, and
misfortunes. I swear it pitied me; and I really think they will not do well
in too much mortifying that man, although indeed it is his own fault. He is
covetous as hell, and ambitious as the Prince of it: he would fain have been
General for life, and has broken all endeavours for peace, to keep his
greatness and get money. He told the Queen he was neither covetous nor
ambitious. She said if she could have conveniently turned about, she would
have laughed, and could hardly forbear it in his face. He fell in with all
the abominable measures of the late Ministry, because they gratified him for
their own designs. Yet he has been a successful General, and I hope he will
continue his command. O Lord, smoke the politics to MD! Well; but, if you
like them, I will scatter a little now and then, and mine are all fresh from
the chief hands. Well, I dined with Mr. Harley, and came away at six: there
was much company, and I was not merry at all. Mr. Harley made me read a paper
of verses of Prior's. I read them plain, without any fine manner; and Prior
swore, I should never read any of his again; but he would be revenged, and
read some of mine as bad. I excused myself, and said I was famous for reading
verses the worst in the world; and that everybody snatched them from me when I
offered to begin. So we laughed.--Sir Andrew Fountaine still continues ill.
He is plagued with some sort of bile.
Jan. 1. Morning. I wish my dearest, pretty Dingley and Stella a happy New
Year, and health, and mirth, and good stomachs, and Fr's company. Faith, I
did not know how to write Fr. I wondered what was the matter; but now I
remember I always write Pdfr. Patrick wishes me a happy New Year, and desires
I would rise, for it is a good fire, and faith 'tis cold. I was so politic
last night with MD, never saw the like. Get the Examiners, and read them; the
last nine or ten are full of the reasons for the late change, and of the
abuses of the last Ministry; and the great men assure me they are all true.
They are written by their encouragement and direction. I must rise and go see
Sir Andrew Fountaine; but perhaps to-night I may answer MD's letter: so good-
morrow, my mistresses all, good-morrow.
I wish you both a merry New Year,
Roast beef, minced pies, and good strong beer,
And me a share of your good cheer,
That I was there, or you were here;
And you're a little saucy dear.
Good-morrow again, dear sirrahs; one cannot rise for your play.--At night. I
went this morning to visit Lady Kerry and Lord Shelburne; and they made me
dine with them. Sir Andrew Fountaine is better. And now let us come and see
what this saucy, dear letter of MD says. Come out, letter, come out from
between the sheets; here it is underneath, and it will not come out. Come out
again, I say: so there. Here it is. What says Presto to me, pray? says it.
Come, and let me answer for you to your ladies. Hold up your head then, like
a good letter. There. Pray, how have you got up with Presto, Madam Stella?
You write your eighth when you receive mine: now I write my twelfth when I
receive your eighth. Do not you allow for what are upon the road, simpleton?
What say you to that? And so you kept Presto's little birthday, I warrant:
would to God I had been at the health rather than here, where I have no manner
of pleasure, nothing but eternal business upon my hands. I shall grow wise in
time; but no more of that: only I say Amen with my heart and vitals, that we
may never be asunder again ten days together while poor Presto lives. --------
------------------------------------------------ I can't be merry so near any
splenetic talk; so I made that long line, and now all's well again. Yes, you
are a pretending slut, indeed, with your fourth and fifth in the margin, and
your journal, and everything. Wind--we saw no wind here, nothing at all
extraordinary at any time. We had it once when you had it not. But an old
saying and a true:
"I hate all wind,
Before and behind,
From cheeks with eyes,
Or from blind.----"
Your chimney fall down! God preserve you. I suppose you only mean a brick or
two: but that's a d--ned lie of your chimney being carried to the next house
with the wind. Don't put such things upon us; those matters will not pass
here: keep a little to possibilities. My Lord Hertford[12] would have been
ashamed of such a stretch. You should take care of what company you converse
with: when one gets that faculty, 'tis hard to break one's self of it. Jemmy
Leigh talks of going over; but quando? I do not know when he will go. Oh,
now you have had my ninth, now you are come up with me; marry come up with
you, indeed. I know all that business of Lady S----.[13] Will nobody cut
that D--y's throat? Five hundred pounds do you call poor pay for living three
months the life of a king? They say she died with grief, partly, being forced
to appear as a witness in court about some squabble among their servants.--The
Bishop of Clogher showed you a pamphlet.[14] Well, but you must not give your
mind to believe those things; people will say anything. The Character is here
reckoned admirable, but most of the facts are trifles. It was first printed
privately here; and then some bold cur ventured to do it publicly, and sold
two thousand in two days: who the author is must remain uncertain. Do you
pretend to know, impudence? How durst you think so? Pox on your Parliaments:
the Archbishop has told me of it; but we do not vouchsafe to know anything of
it here. No, no, no more of your giddiness yet; thank you, Stella, for asking
after it; thank you; God Almighty bless you for your kindness to poor Presto.
You write to Lady Giffard and your mother upon what I advise when it is too
late. But yet I fancy this bad news will bring down stocks so low, that one
might buy to great advantage. I design to venture going to see your mother
some day when Lady Giffard is abroad. Well, keep your Rathburn[15] and stuff.
I thought he was to pay in your money upon his houses to be flung down about
the what do you call it.--Well, Madam Dingley, I sent your enclosed to
Bristol, but have not heard from Raymond since he went. Come, come, young
women, I keep a good fire; it costs me twelvepence a week, and I fear
something more; vex me, and I will have one in my bed-chamber too. No, did
not I tell you but just now, we have no high winds here? Have you forgot
already?--Now you're at it again, silly Stella; why does your mother say my
candles are scandalous? They are good sixes in the pound, and she said I was
extravagant enough to burn them by daylight. I never burn fewer at a time
than one. What would people have? The D---- burst Hawkshaw. He told me he
had not the box; and the next day Sterne told me he had sent it a fortnight
ago. Patrick could not find him t'other day, but he shall to-morrow. Dear
life and heart, do you tease me? does Stella tease Presto? That palsy-water
was in the box; it was too big for a packet, and I was afraid of its breaking.
Leigh was not in town then; or I would not have trusted it to Sterne, whom yet
I have befriended enough to do me more kindness than that. I'll never rest
till you have it, or till it is in a way for you to have it. Poor dear rogue,
naughty to think it teases me; how could I ever forgive myself for neglecting
anything that related to your health? Sure I were a Devil if I did. ---------
--------------------------------------------- See how far I am forced to stand
from Stella, because I am afraid she thinks poor Presto has not been careful
about her little things; I am sure I bought them immediately according to
order, and packed them up with my own hands, and sent them to Sterne, and was
six times with him about sending them away. I am glad you are pleased with
your glasses. I have got another velvet cap; a new one Lord Herbert[16]
bought and presented me one morning I was at breakfast with him, where he was
as merry and easy as ever I saw him, yet had received a challenge half an hour
before, and half an hour after fought a duel. It was about ten days ago. You
are mistaken in your guesses about Tatlers: I did neither write that on Noses
nor Religion,[17] nor do I send him of late any hints at all.--Indeed, Stella,
when I read your letter, I was not uneasy at all; but when I came to answer
the particulars, and found that you had not received your box, it grated me to
the heart, because I thought, through your little words, that you imagined I
had not taken the care I ought. But there has been some blunder in this
matter, which I will know to-morrow, and write to Sterne, for fear he should
not be within.--And pray, pray, Presto, pray now do.--No, Raymond was not
above four times with me while he stayed, and then only while I was dressing.
Mrs. Fenton has written me another letter about some money of hers in Lady
Giffard's hands, that is entrusted to me by my mother, not to come to her
husband. I send my letters constantly every fortnight, and, if you will have
them oftener, you may, but then they will be the shorter. Pray, let Parvisol
sell the horse. I think I spoke to you of it in a former letter: I am glad
you are rid of him, and was in pain while I thought you rode him; but, if he
would buy you another, or anybody else, and that you could be often able to
ride, why do not you do it?
2. I went this morning early to the Secretary of State, Mr. St. John; and he
told me from Mr. Harley that the warrant was now drawn, in order for a patent
for the First-Fruits: it must pass through several offices, and take up some
time, because in things the Queen gives they are always considerate; but that,
he assures me, 'tis granted and done, and past all dispute, and desires I will
not be in any pain at all. I will write again to the Archbishop to-morrow,
and tell him this, and I desire you will say it on occasion. From the
Secretary I went to Mr. Sterne, who said he would write to you to-night; and
that the box must be at Chester; and that some friend of his goes very soon,
and will carry it over. I dined with Mr. Secretary St. John, and at six went
to Darteneufs house to drink punch with him, and Mr. Addison, and little
Harrison,[18] a young poet, whose fortune I am making. Steele was to have
been there, but came not, nor never did twice, since I knew him, to any
appointment. I stayed till past eleven, and am now in bed. Steele's last
Tatler came out to-day. You will see it before this comes to you, and how he
takes leave of the world. He never told so much as Mr. Addison of it, who was
surprised as much as I; but, to say the truth, it was time, for he grew cruel
dull and dry. To my knowledge he had several good hints to go upon; but he
was so lazy and weary of the work that he would not improve them. I think I
will send this after[19] to-morrow: shall I before 'tis full, Dingley?
3. Lord Peterborow yesterday called me into a barber's shop, and there we
talked deep politics: he desired me to dine with him to-day at the Globe in
the Strand; he said he would show me so clearly how to get Spain, that I could
not possibly doubt it. I went to-day accordingly, and saw him among half a
dozen lawyers and attorneys and hang-dogs, signing of deeds and stuff before
his journey; for he goes to-morrow to Vienna. I sat among that scurvy company
till after four, but heard nothing of Spain; only I find, by what he told me
before, that he fears he shall do no good in his present journey.[20] We are
to be mighty constant correspondents. So I took my leave of him, and called
at Sir Andrew Fountaine's, who mends much. I came home, an't please you, at
six, and have been studying till now past eleven.
4. Morning. Morrow, little dears. O, faith, I have been dreaming; I was to
be put in prison. I do not know why, and I was so afraid of a black dungeon;
and then all I had been inquiring yesterday of Sir Andrew Fountaine's sickness
I thought was of poor Stella. The worst of dreams is, that one wakes just in
the humour they leave one. Shall I send this to-day? With all my heart: it
is two days within the fortnight; but may be MD are in haste to have a round
dozen: and then how are you come up to me with your eighth, young women? But
you indeed ought to write twice slower than I, because there are two of you; I
own that. Well then, I will seal up this letter by my morning candle, and
carry it into the city with me, where I go to dine, and put it into the post-
office with my own fair hands. So, let me see whether I have any news to tell
MD. They say they will very soon make some inquiries into the corruptions of
the late Ministry; and they must do it, to justify their turning them out.
Atterbury,[21] we think, is to be Dean of Christ Church in Oxford; but the
College would rather have Smalridge--What's all this to you? What care you
for Atterburys and Smalridges? No, you care for nothing but Presto, faith.
So I will rise, and bid you farewell; yet I am loth to do so, because there is
a great bit of paper yet to talk upon; but Dingley will have it so: "Yes,"
says she, "make your journals shorter, and send them oftener;" and so I will.
And I have cheated you another way too; for this is clipped paper, and holds
at least six lines less than the former ones. I will tell you a good thing I
said to my Lord Carteret.[22] "So," says he, "my Lord came up to me, and
asked me," etc. "No," said I, "my Lord never did, nor ever can come up to
you." We all pun here sometimes. Lord Carteret set down Prior t'other day in
his chariot; and Prior thanked him for his CHARITY; that was fit for
Dilly.[23] I do not remember I heard one good one from the Ministry; which is
really a shame. Henley is gone to the country for Christmas. The puppy comes
here without his wife,[24] and keeps no house, and would have me dine with him
at eating-houses; but I have only done it once, and will do it no more. He
had not seen me for some time in the Coffee-house, and asking after me,
desired Lord Herbert to tell me I was a beast for ever, after the order of
Melchisedec. Did you ever read the Scripture?[25] It is only changing the
word priest to beast.--I think I am bewitched, to write so much in a morning
to you, little MD. Let me go, will you? and I'll come again to-night in a
fine clean sheet of paper; but I can nor will stay no longer now; no, I won't,
for all your wheedling: no, no, look off, do not smile at me, and say, "Pray,
pray, Presto, write a little more." Ah! you are a wheedling slut, you be so.
Nay, but prithee turn about, and let me go, do; 'tis a good girl, and do. O,
faith, my morning candle is just out, and I must go now in spite of my teeth;
for my bed-chamber is dark with curtains, and I am at the wrong side. So
farewell, etc. etc.
I am in the dark almost: I must have another candle, when I am up, to seal
this; but I will fold it up in the dark, and make what you can of this, for I
can only see this paper I am writing upon. Service to Mrs. Walls and Mrs.
Stoyte.
God Almighty bless you, etc. What I am doing I can't see; but I will fold it
up, and not look on it again.
