LETTER 16.
LONDON, Feb. 10, 1710-11.
I have just despatched my fifteenth to the post; I tell you how things will
be, after I have got a letter from MD. I am in furious haste to finish mine,
for fear of having two of MD's to answer in one of Presto's, which would be
such a disgrace, never saw the like; but, before you write to me, I write at
my leisure, like a gentleman, a little every day, just to let you know how
matters go, and so and so; and I hope before this comes to you, you'll have
got your box and chocolate, and Presto will take more care another time.
11. Morning. I must rise and go see my Lord Keeper,[1] which will cost me
two shillings in coach-hire. Don't you call them two thirteens?[2]--At night.
It has rained all day, and there was no walking. I read prayers to Sir Andrew
Fountaine in the forenoon, and I dined with three Irishmen, at one Mr.
Cope's[3] lodgings; the other two were one Morris an archdeacon,[4] and Mr.
Ford. When I came home this evening, I expected that little jackanapes
Harrison would have come to get help about his Tatler for Tuesday: I have
fixed two evenings in the week which I allow him to come. The toad never
came, and I expecting him fell a reading, and left off other business.--Come,
what are you doing? How do you pass your time this ugly weather? Gaming and
drinking, I suppose: fine diversions for young ladies, truly! I wish you had
some of our Seville oranges, and we some of your wine. We have the finest
oranges for twopence apiece, and the basest wine for six shillings a bottle.
They tell me wine grows cheap with you. I am resolved to have half a hogshead
when I get to Ireland, if it be good and cheap, as it used to be; and I will
treat MD at my table in an evening, oh hoa, and laugh at great Ministers of
State.
12. The days are grown fine and long, ----- be thanked. O, faith, you forget
all our little sayings, and I am angry. I dined to-day with Mr. Secretary St.
John: I went to the Court of Requests at noon, and sent Mr. Harley into the
House to call the Secretary, to let him know I would not dine with him if he
dined late. By good luck the Duke of Argyle was at the lobby of the House
too, and I kept him in talk till the Secretary came out; then told them I was
glad to meet them together, and that I had a request to the Duke, which the
Secretary must second, and his Grace must grant. The Duke said he was sure it
was something insignificant, and wished it was ten times greater. At the
Secretary's house I writ a memorial, and gave it to the Secretary to give the
Duke, and shall see that he does it. It is, that his Grace will please to
take Mr. Bernage into his protection; and if he finds Bernage answers my
character, to give him all encouragement. Colonel Masham[5] and Colonel
Hill[6] (Mrs. Masham's[7] brother tell me my request is reasonable, and they
will second it heartily to the Duke too: so I reckon Bernage is on a very
good foot when he goes to Spain. Pray tell him this, though perhaps I will
write to him before he goes; yet where shall I direct? for I suppose he has
left Connolly's.[8]
13. I have left off Lady Kerry's bitter, and got another box of pills. I
have no fits of giddiness, but only some little disorders towards it; and I
walk as much as I can. Lady Kerry is just as I am, only a great deal worse:
I dined to-day at Lord Shelburne's, where she is, and we con ailments, which
makes us very fond of each other. I have taken Mr. Harley into favour again,
and called to see him, but he was not within; I will use to visit him after
dinner, for he dines too late for my head: then I went to visit poor
Congreve, who is just getting out of a severe fit of the gout; and I sat with
him till near nine o'clock. He gave me a Tatler[9] he had written out, as
blind as he is, for little Harrison. It is about a scoundrel that was grown
rich, and went and bought a coat of arms at the Herald's, and a set of
ancestors at Fleet Ditch; 'tis well enough, and shall be printed in two or
three days, and if you read those kind of things, this will divert you. It is
now between ten and eleven, and I am going to bed.
14. This was Mrs. Vanhomrigh's daughter's[10] birthday, and Mr. Ford and I
were invited to dinner to keep it, and we spent the evening there, drinking
punch. That was our way of beginning Lent; and in the morning Lord Shelburne,
Lady Kerry, Mrs. Pratt, and I, went to Hyde Park, instead of going to church;
for, till my head is a little settled, I think it better not to go; it would
be so silly and troublesome to go out sick. Dr. Duke[11] died suddenly two or
three nights ago; he was one of the wits when we were children, but turned
parson, and left it, and never writ farther than a prologue or recommendatory
copy of verses. He had a fine living given him by the Bishop of
Winchester[12] about three months ago; he got his living suddenly, and he got
his dying so too.
15. I walked purely to-day about the Park, the rain being just over, of which
we have had a great deal, mixed with little short frosts. I went to the Court
of Requests, thinking, if Mr. Harley dined early, to go with him. But meeting
Leigh and Sterne, they invited me to dine with them, and away we went. When
we got into his room, one H----, a worthless Irish fellow, was there, ready to
dine with us; so I stepped out, and whispered them, that I would not dine with
that fellow: they made excuses, and begged me to stay; but away I went to Mr.
Harley's, and he did not dine at home; and at last I dined at Sir John
Germaine's,[13] and found Lady Betty but just recovered of a miscarriage. I
am writing an inscription for Lord Berkeley's[14] tomb; you know the young
rake his son, the new Earl, is married to the Duke of Richmond's daughter,[15]
at the Duke's country house, and are now coming to town. She will be fluxed
in two months, and they'll be parted in a year. You ladies are brave, bold,
venturesome folks; and the chit is but seventeen, and is ill-natured,
covetous, vicious, and proud in extremes. And so get you gone to Stoyte to-
morrow.
16. Faith, this letter goes on but slow; 'tis a week old, and the first side
not written. I went to-day into the City for a walk, but the person I
designed to dine with was not at home; so I came back, and called at
Congreve's, and dined with him and Estcourt,[16] and laughed till six; then
went to Mr. Harley's, who was not gone to dinner; there I stayed till nine,
and we made up our quarrel, and he has invited me to dinner to-morrow, which
is the day of the week (Saturday) that Lord Keeper and Secretary St. John dine
with him privately, and at last they have consented to let me among them on
that day. Atterbury and Prior went to bury poor Dr. Duke. Congreve's nasty
white wine has given me the heart-burn.
17. I took some good walks in the Park to-day, and then went to Mr. Harley.
Lord Rivers was got there before me, and I chid him for presuming to come on a
day when only Lord Keeper and the Secretary and I were to be there; but he
regarded me not; so we all dined together, and sat down at four; and the
Secretary has invited me to dine with him to-morrow. I told them I had no
hopes they could ever keep in, but that I saw they loved one another so well,
as indeed they seem to do. They call me nothing but Jonathan; and I said I
believed they would leave me Jonathan as they found me; and that I never knew
a Ministry do anything for those whom they make companions of their pleasures;
and I believe you will find it so; but I care not. I am upon a project of
getting five hundred pounds,[17] without being obliged to anybody; but that is
a secret, till I see my dearest MD; and so hold your tongue, and do not talk,
sirrahs, for I am now about it.
18. My head has no fits, but a little disordered before dinner; yet I walk
stoutly, and take pills, and hope to mend. Secretary St. John would needs
have me dine with him to-day; and there I found three persons I never saw, two
I had no acquaintance with, and one I did not care for: so I left them early
and came home, it being no day to walk, but scurvy rain and wind. The
Secretary tells me he has put a cheat on me; for Lord Peterborow sent him
twelve dozen flasks of burgundy, on condition that I should have my share; but
he never was quiet till they were all gone, so I reckon he owes me thirty-six
pounds. Lord Peterborow is now got to Vienna, and I must write to him to-
morrow. I begin now to be towards looking for a letter from some certain
ladies of Presto's acquaintance, that live at St. Mary's,[18] and are called
in a certain language, our little MD. No, stay, I don't expect one these six
days, that will be just three weeks; an't I a reasonable creature? We are
plagued here with an October Club, that is, a set of above a hundred
Parliament men of the country, who drink October beer at home, and meet every
evening at a tavern near the Parliament to consult affairs, and drive things
on to extremes against the Whigs, to call the old Ministry to account, and get
off five or six heads.[19] The Ministry seem not to regard them; yet one of
them in confidence told me that there must be something thought on, to settle
things better. I'll tell you one great State secret: the Queen, sensible how
much she was governed by the late Ministry, runs a little into t'other
extreme, and is jealous in that point, even of those who got her out of the
others' hands. The Ministry is for gentler measures, and the other Tories for
more violent. Lord Rivers, talking to me the other day, cursed the paper
called the Examiner, for speaking civilly of the Duke of Marlborough; this I
happened to talk of to the Secretary, who blamed the warmth of that lord and
some others, and swore that if their advice were followed they would be blown
up in twenty-four hours. And I have reason to think that they will endeavour
to prevail on the Queen to put her affairs more in the hands of a Ministry
than she does at present; and there are, I believe, two men thought on, one of
them you have often met the name of in my letters. But so much for politics.
19. This proved a terrible rainy day, which prevented my walk into the City,
and I was only able to run and dine with my neighbour Vanhomrigh, where Sir
Andrew Fountaine dined too, who has just began to sally out, and has shipped
his mother and sister, who were his nurses, back to the country. This evening
was fair, and I walked a little in the Park, till Prior made me go with him to
the Smyrna Coffee-house, where I sat a while, and saw four or five Irish
persons, who are very handsome, genteel fellows; but I know not their names.
I came away at seven, and got home. Two days ago I writ to Bernage, and told
him what I had done, and directed the letter to Mr. Curry's, to be left with
Dingley. Brigadiers Hill and Masham, brother and husband to Mrs. Masham, the
Queen's favourite, Colonel Disney,[20] and I, have recommended Bernage to the
Duke of Argyle; and Secretary St. John has given the Duke my memorial; and,
besides, Hill tells me, that Bernage's colonel, Fielding,[21] designs to make
him his captain-lieutenant: but I believe I said this to you before, and in
this letter; but I will not look.
20. Morning. It snows terribly again; and 'tis mistaken, for I now want a
little good weather. I bid you good-morrow; and, if it clear up, get you gone
to poor Mrs. Walls, who has had a hard time of it, but is now pretty well
again. I am sorry it is a girl: the poor Archdeacon too, see how simply he
looked when they told him: what did it cost Stella to be gossip? I'll rise;
so, d'ye hear, let me see you at night; and do not stay late out, and catch
cold, sirrahs.--At night. It grew good weather, and I got a good walk, and
dined with Ford upon his Opera-day; but, now all his wine is gone, I shall
dine with him no more. I hope to send this letter before I hear from MD,
methinks there is--something great in doing so, only I can't express where it
lies; and, faith, this shall go by Saturday, as sure as you're a rogue. Mrs.
Edgworth was to set out but last Monday; so you won't have your box so soon
perhaps as this letter; but Sterne told me since that it is safe at Chester,
and that she will take care of it. I'd give a guinea you had it.
21. Morning. Faith, I hope it will be fair for me to walk into the City; for
I take all occasions of walking.--I should be plaguy busy at Laracor if I were
there now, cutting down willows, planting others, scouring my canal, and every
kind of thing. If Raymond goes over this summer, you must submit, and make
them a visit, that we may have another eel and trout fishing; and that Stella
may ride by, and see Presto in his morning-gown in the garden, and so go up
with Joe to the Hill of Bree, and round by Scurlock's Town. O Lord, how I
remember names! faith, it gives me short sighs; therefore no more of that, if
you love me. Good-morrow, I will go rise like a gentleman; my pills say I
must.--At night. Lady Kerry sent to desire me to engage some lords about an
affair she has in their house here: I called to see her, but found she had
already engaged every lord I knew, and that there was no great difficulty in
the matter; and it rained like a dog; so I took coach, for want of better
exercise, and dined privately with a hang-dog in the City, and walked back in
the evening. The days are now long enough to walk in the Park after dinner;
and so I do whenever it is fair. This walking is a strange remedy: Mr. Prior
walks, to make himself fat, and I to bring myself down; he has generally a
cough, which he only calls a cold; we often walk round the Park together. So
I'll go sleep.
22. It snowed all this morning prodigiously, and was some inches thick in
three or four hours. I dined with Mr. Lewis of the Secretary's office at his
lodgings: the chairmen that carried me squeezed a great fellow against a
wall, who wisely turned his back, and broke one of the side-glasses in a
thousand pieces. I fell a scolding, pretended I was like to be cut to pieces,
and made them set down the chair in the Park, while they picked out the bits
of glasses; and, when I paid them, I quarrelled still; so they dared not
grumble, and I came off for my fare; but I was plaguily afraid they would have
said, "God bless your honour, won't you give us something for our glass?"
Lewis and I were forming a project how I might get three or four hundred
pounds,[22] which I suppose may come to nothing. I hope Smyth has brought you
your palsy-drops. How does Stella do? I begin more and more to desire to
know. The three weeks since I had your last is over within two days, and I
will allow three for accidents.
23. The snow is gone every bit, except the remainder of some great balls made
by the boys. Mr. Sterne was with me this morning about an affair he has
before the Treasury. That drab Mrs. Edgworth is not yet set out, but will
infallibly next Monday: and this is the third infallible Monday, and pox take
her! So you will have this letter first; and this shall go to-morrow; and, if
I have one from MD in that time, I will not answer it till my next; only I
will say, "Madam, I received your letter, and so, and so." I dined to-day
with my Mistress Butler,[23] who grows very disagreeable.
24. Morning. This letter certainly goes this evening, sure as you're alive,
young women, and then you will be so shamed that I have had none from you;
and, if I was to reckon like you, I would say, I were six letters before you,
for this is N.16, and I have had your N.10. But I reckon you have received
but fourteen, and have sent eleven. I think to go to-day a Minister-of-State-
hunting in the Court of Requests; for I have something to say to Mr. Harley.
And it is fine, cold, sunshiny weather; I wish dear MD would walk this morning
in your Stephen's Green; 'tis as good as our Park, but not so large.[24]
Faith, this summer we'll take a coach for sixpence[25] to the Green Well, the
two walks, and thence all the way to Stoyte's.[26] My hearty service to Goody
Stoyte and Catherine; and I hope Mrs. Walls had a good time. How inconstant I
am! I can't imagine I was ever in love with her. Well, I'm going; what have
you to say? I DO NOT CARE HOW I WRITE NOW.[27] I don't design to write on
this side; these few lines are but so much more than your due; so I will write
LARGE or small as I please. O, faith, my hands are starving in bed; I believe
it is a hard frost. I must rise, and bid you good-bye, for I'll seal this
letter immediately, and carry it in my pocket, and put it into the post-office
with my own fair hands. Farewell.
This letter is just a fortnight's journal to-day. Yes, and so it is, I'm
sure, says you, with your two eggs a penny.
Lele, lele, lele.[28]
O Lord, I am saying lele, lele, to myself, in all our little keys: and, now
you talk of keys, that dog Patrick broke the key-general of the chest of
drawers with six locks, and I have been so plagued to get a new one, besides
my good two shillings!
