LETTER 22.
CHELSEA, April 28, 1711.
At night. I say at night, because I finished my twenty-first this morning
here, and put it into the post-office my own self, like a good boy. I think I
am a little before you now, young women: I am writing my twenty-second, and
have received your thirteenth. I got to town between twelve and one, and put
on my new gown and periwig, and dined with Lord Abercorn, where I had not been
since the marriage of his son Lord Peasley,[1] who has got ten thousand pounds
with a wife. I am now a country gentleman. I walked home as I went, and am a
little weary, and am got into bed: I hope in God the air and exercise will do
me a little good. I have been inquiring about statues for Mrs. Ashe: I made
Lady Abercorn[2] go with me; and will send them word next post to Clogher. I
hate to buy for her: I am sure she will maunder. I am going to study.
29. I had a charming walk to and from town to-day: I washed, shaved and all,
and changed gown and periwig, by half an hour after nine, and went to the
Secretary, who told me how he had differed with his friends in Parliament: I
apprehended this division, and told him a great deal of it. I went to Court,
and there several mentioned it to me as what they much disliked. I dined with
the Secretary; and we proposed doing some business of importance in the
afternoon, which he broke to me first, and said how he and Mr. Harley were
convinced of the necessity of it; yet he suffered one of his under-secretaries
to come upon us after dinner, who stayed till six, and so nothing was done:
and what care I? he shall send to me the next time, and ask twice. To-morrow
I go to the election at Westminster School, where lads are chosen for the
University: they say it is a sight, and a great trial of wits. Our
Expedition Fleet is but just sailed: I believe it will come to nothing. Mr.
Secretary frets at their tediousness, but hopes great things from it, though
he owns four or five princes are in the secret; and, for that reason, I fear
it is no secret to France. There are eight regiments; and the Admiral[3] is
your Walker's brother the midwife.
30. Morn. I am here in a pretty pickle: it rains hard; and the cunning
natives of Chelsea have outwitted me, and taken up all the three stage
coaches. What shall I do? I must go to town: this is your fault. I cannot
walk: I will borrow a coat. This is the blind side of my lodging out of
town; I must expect such inconveniences as these. Faith, I'll walk in the
rain. Morrow.--At night. I got a gentleman's chaise by chance, and so went
to town for a shilling, and lie this night in town. I was at the election of
lads at Westminster to-day, and a very silly thing it is; but they say there
will be fine doings to-morrow. I dined with Dr. Freind,[4] the second master
of the school, with a dozen parsons and others: Prior would make me stay.
Mr. Harley is to hear the election to-morrow; and we are all to dine with
tickets, and hear fine speeches. 'Tis terrible rainy weather again: I lie at
a friend's in the City.
May 1. I wish you a merry May Day, and a thousand more. I was baulked at
Westminster; I came too late: I heard no speeches nor verses. They would not
let me in to their dining-place for want of a ticket; and I would not send in
for one, because Mr. Harley excused his coming, and Atterbury was not there;
and I cared not for the rest: and so my friend Lewis and I dined with Kitt
Musgrave,[5] if you know such a man: and, the weather mending, I walked
gravely home this evening; and so I design to walk and walk till I am well: I
fancy myself a little better already. How does poor Stella? Dingley is well
enough. Go, get you gone, naughty girl, you are well enough. O dear MD,
contrive to have some share of the country this spring: go to Finglas, or
Donnybrook, or Clogher, or Killala, or Lowth. Have you got your box yet?
Yes, yes. Do not write to me again till this letter goes: I must make haste,
that I may write two for one. Go to the Bath: I hope you are now at the
Bath, if you had a mind to go; or go to Wexford: do something for your
living. Have you given up my lodging, according to order? I have had just
now a compliment from Dean Atterbury's lady,[6] to command the garden and
library, and whatever the house affords. I lodge just over against them; but
the Dean is in town with his Convocation: so I have my Dean and Prolocutor as
well as you, young women, though he has not so good wine, nor so much meat.
2. A fine day, but begins to grow a little warm; and that makes your little
fat Presto sweat in the forehead. Pray, are not the fine buns sold here in
our town; was it not Rrrrrrrrrare Chelsea buns?[7] I bought one to-day in my
walk; it cost me a penny; it was stale, and I did not like it, as the man
said, etc. Sir Andrew Fountaine and I dined at Mrs. Vanhomrigh's, and had a
flask of my Florence, which lies in their cellar; and so I came home gravely,
and saw nobody of consequence to-day. I am very easy here, nobody plaguing me
in a morning; and Patrick saves many a score lies. I sent over to Mrs
Atterbury to know whether I might wait on her; but she is gone a visiting: we
have exchanged some compliments, but I have not seen her yet. We have no news
in our town.
3. I did not go to town to-day, it was so terrible rainy; nor have I stirred
out of my room till eight this evening, when I crossed the way to see Mrs.
Atterbury, and thank her for her civilities. She would needs send me some
veal, and small beer, and ale, to-day at dinner; and I have lived a scurvy,
dull, splenetic day, for want of MD: I often thought how happy I could have
been, had it rained eight thousand times more, if MD had been with a body. My
Lord Rochester[8] is dead this morning; they say at one o'clock; and I hear he
died suddenly. To-morrow I shall know more. He is a great loss to us: I
cannot think who will succeed him as Lord President. I have been writing a
long letter to Lord Peterborow, and am dull.
4. I dined to-day at Lord Shelburne's, where Lady Kerry[9] made me a present
of four India handkerchiefs, which I have a mind to keep for little MD, only
that I had rather, etc. I have been a mighty handkerchief-monger, and have
bought abundance of snuff ones since I have left off taking snuff. And I am
resolved, when I come over, MD shall be acquainted with Lady Kerry: we have
struck up a mighty friendship; and she has much better sense than any other
lady of your country. We are almost in love with one another: but she is
most egregiously ugly; but perfectly well-bred, and governable as I please. I
am resolved, when I come, to keep no company but MD: you know I kept my
resolution last time; and, except Mr. Addison, conversed with none but you and
your club of deans and Stoytes. 'Tis three weeks, young women, since I had a
letter from you; and yet, methinks, I would not have another for five pounds
till this is gone; and yet I send every day to the Coffee-house, and I would
fain have a letter, and not have a letter: and I do not know what, nor I do
not know how, and this goes on very slow; it is a week to-morrow since I began
it. I am a poor country gentleman, and do not know how the world passes. Do
you know that every syllable I write I hold my lips just for all the world as
if I were talking in our own little language to MD? Faith, I am very silly;
but I cannot help it for my life. I got home early to-night. My solicitors,
that used to ply me every morning, knew not where to find me; and I am so
happy not to hear "Patrick, Patrick," called a hundred times every morning.
But I looked backward, and find I have said this before. What care I? Go to
the Dean, and roast the oranges.
5. I dined to-day with my friend Lewis, and we were deep in politics how to
save the present Ministry; for I am afraid of Mr. Secretary, as I believe I
told you. I went in the evening to see Mr. Harley; and, upon my word, I was
in perfect joy. Mr. Secretary was just going out of the door; but I made him
come back, and there was the old Saturday Club, Lord Keeper, Lord Rivers, Mr.
Secretary, Mr. Harley, and I; the first time since his stabbing. Mr.
Secretary went away; but I stayed till nine, and made Mr. Harley show me his
breast, and tell all the story; and I showed him the Archbishop of Dublin's
letter, and defended him effectually. We were all in mighty good humour.
Lord Keeper and I left them together, and I walked here after nine two miles,
and I found a parson drunk fighting with a seaman, and Patrick and I were so
wise to part them, but the seaman followed him to Chelsea, cursing at him, and
the parson slipped into a house, and I know no more. It mortified me to see a
man in my coat so overtaken. A pretty scene for one that just came from
sitting with the Prime Ministers! I had no money in my pocket, and so could
not be robbed. However, nothing but Mr. Harley shall make me take such a
journey again. We don't yet know who will be President in Lord Rochester's
room. I measured, and found that the penknife would have killed Mr. Harley if
it had gone but half the breadth of my thumb-nail lower, so near was he to
death. I was so curious as to ask him what were his thoughts while they were
carrying him home in the chair. He said he concluded himself a dead man. He
will not allow that Guiscard gave him the second stab; though my Lord Keeper,
who is blind, and I that was not there, are positive in it. He wears a
plaster still as broad as half a crown. Smoke how wide the lines are, but,
faith, I don't do it on purpose: but I have changed my side in this new
Chelsea bed, and I do not know how, methinks, but it is so unfit, and so
awkward, never saw the like.
6. You must remember to enclose your letters in a fair paper, and direct the
outside thus: "To Erasmus Lewis, Esq.; at my Lord Dartmouth's office at
Whitehall." I said so before, but it may miscarry, you know, yet I think none
of my letters did ever miscarry; faith, I think never one; among all the
privateers and the storms. O, faith, my letters are too good to be lost.
MD's letters may tarry, but never miscarry, as the old woman used to say. And
indeed, how should they miscarry, when they never come before their time? It
was a terrible rainy day; yet I made a shift to steal fair weather overhead
enough to go and come in. I was early with the Secretary, and dined with him
afterwards. In the morning I began to chide him, and tell him my fears of his
proceedings. But Arthur Moore[10] came up and relieved him. But I forgot,
for you never heard of Arthur Moore. But when I get Mr. Harley alone, I will
know the bottom. You will have Dr. Raymond over before this letter, and what
care you?
7. I hope and believe my walks every day do me good. I was busy at home, and
set out late this morning, and dined with Mrs. Vanhomrigh, at whose lodgings I
always change my gown and periwig. I visited this afternoon, and among
others, poor Biddy Floyd,[11] who is very red, but I believe won't be much
marked. As I was coming home, I met Sir George Beaumont[12] in the Pall Mall,
who would needs walk with me as far as Buckingham House. I was telling him of
my head; he said he had been ill of the same disorder, and by all means forbid
me bohea tea, which, he said, always gave it him; and that Dr. Radcliffe said
it was very bad. Now I had observed the same thing, and have left it off this
month, having found myself ill after it several times; and I mention it that
Stella may consider it for her own poor little head: a pound lies ready
packed up and directed for Mrs. Walls, to be sent by the first convenience.
Mr. Secretary told me yesterday that Mr. Harley would this week be Lord
Treasurer and a peer; so I expect it every day; yet perhaps it may not be till
Parliament is up, which will be in a fortnight.
8. I was to-day with the Duke of Ormond, and recommended to him the care of
poor Joe Beaumont, who promises me to do him all justice and favour, and give
him encouragement; and desired I would give a memorial to Ned Southwell about
it, which I will, and so tell Joe when you see him, though he knows it already
by a letter I writ to Mr. Warburton.[13] It was bloody hot walking to-day. I
dined in the City, and went and came by water; and it rained so this evening
again, that I thought I should hardly be able to get a dry hour to walk home
in. I will send to-morrow to the Coffee-house for a letter from MD; but I
would not have one methinks till this is gone, as it shall on Saturday. I
visited the Duchess of Ormond this morning; she does not go over with the
Duke. I spoke to her to get a lad touched for the evil,[14] the son of a
grocer in Capel Street, one Bell; the ladies have bought sugar and plums of
him. Mrs. Mary used to go there often. This is Patrick's account; and the
poor fellow has been here some months with his boy. But the Queen has not
been able to touch, and it now grows so warm, I fear she will not at all. Go,
go, go to the Dean's, and let him carry you to Donnybrook, and cut asparagus.
Has Parvisol sent you any this year? I cannot sleep in the beginnings of the
nights, the heat or something hinders me, and I am drowsy in the mornings.
9. Dr. Freind came this morning to visit Atterbury's lady and children as
physician, and persuaded me to go with him to town in his chariot. He told me
he had been an hour before with Sir Cholmley Dering, Charles Dering's nephew,
and head of that family in Kent, for which he is Knight of the shire. He said
he left him dying of a pistol-shot quite through the body, by one Mr.
Thornhill.[15] They fought at sword and pistol this morning in Tuttle
Fields,[16] their pistols so near that the muzzles touched. Thornhill
discharged first; and Dering, having received the shot, discharged his pistol
as he was falling, so it went into the air. The story of this quarrel is
long. Thornhill had lost seven teeth by a kick in the mouth from Dering, who
had first knocked him down; this was above a fortnight ago. Dering was next
week to be married to a fine young lady. This makes a noise here, but you
will not value it. Well, Mr. Harley, Lord Keeper, and one or two more, are to
be made lords immediately; their patents are now passing, and I read the
preamble to Mr. Harley's, full of his praises. Lewis and I dined with Ford:
I found the wine; two flasks of my Florence, and two bottles of six that Dr.
Raymond sent me of French wine; he sent it to me to drink with Sir Robert
Raymond and Mr. Harley's brother,[17] whom I had introduced him to; but they
never could find time to come; and now I have left the town, and it is too
late. Raymond will think it a cheat. What care I, sirrah?
10. Pshaw, pshaw. Patrick brought me four letters to-day: from Dilly at
Bath; Joe; Parvisol; and what was the fourth, who can tell? Stand away,
who'll guess? Who can it be? You old man with a stick, can you tell who the
fourth is from? Iss, an please your honour, it is from one Madam MD, Number
Fourteen. Well; but I can't send this away now, because it was here, and I
was in town; but it shall go on Saturday, and this is Thursday night, and it
will be time enough for Wexford. Take my method: I write here to Parvisol to
lend Stella twenty pounds, and to take her note promissory to pay it in half a
year, etc. You shall see, and if you want more, let me know afterwards; and
be sure my money shall be always paid constantly too. Have you been good or
ill housewives, pray?
11. Joe has written me to get him a collector's place, nothing less; he says
all the world knows of my great intimacy with Mr. Harley, and that the
smallest word to him will do. This is the constant cant of puppies who are at
a distance, and strangers to Courts and Ministers. My answer is this, which
pray send: that I am ready to serve Joe as far as I can; that I have spoken
to the Duke of Ormond about his money, as I writ to Warburton; that for the
particular he mentions, it is a work of time, which I cannot think of at
present; but, if accidents and opportunities should happen hereafter, I would
not be wanting; that I know best how far my credit goes; that he is at a
distance, and cannot judge; that I would be glad to do him good, and if
fortune throws an opportunity in my way I shall not be wanting. This is my
answer, which you may send or read to him. Pray contrive that Parvisol may
not run away with my two hundred pounds; but get Burton's[18] note, and let
the money be returned me by bill. Don't laugh, for I will be suspicious.
Teach Parvisol to enclose, and direct the outside to Mr. Lewis. I will answer
your letter in my next, only what I take notice of here excepted. I forgot to
tell you that at the Court of Requests to-day I could not find a dinner I
liked, and it grew late, and I dined with Mrs. Vanhomrigh, etc.
12. Morning. I will finish this letter before I go to town, because I shall
be busy, and have neither time nor place there. Farewell, etc. etc.
