LETTER 29.
LONDON, Aug. 25, 1711.
I have got a pretty small gilt sheet of paper, to write to MD. I have this
moment sent my 28th by Patrick, who tells me he has put it in the post-office;
'tis directed to your lodgings: if it wants more particular direction, you
must set me right. It is now a solar month and two days since the date of
your last, N.18; and I reckon you are now quiet at home, and thinking to begin
your 19th, which will be full of your quarrel between the two Houses, all
which I know already. Where shall I dine to-morrow? can you tell? Mrs.
Vanhomrigh boards now, and cannot invite one; and there I used to dine when I
was at a loss: and all my friends are gone out of town, and your town is now
at the fullest, with your Parliament and Convocation. But let me alone,
sirrahs; for Presto is going to be very busy; not Presto, but the other I.
26. People have so left the town that I am at a loss for a dinner. It is a
long time since I have been at London upon a Sunday; and the Ministers are all
at Windsor. It cost me eighteenpence in coach-hire before I could find a
place to dine in. I went to Frankland's,[1] and he was abroad, and the drab
his wife looked out at window, and bowed to me without inviting me up: so I
dined with Mr. Coote,[2] my Lord Mountrath's brother; my lord is with you in
Ireland. This morning at five my Lord Jersey[3] died of the gout in his
stomach, or apoplexy, or both: he was abroad yesterday, and his death was
sudden. He was Chamberlain to King William, and a great favourite, turned out
by the Queen as a Tory, and stood now fair to be Privy Seal; and by his death
will, I suppose, make that matter easier, which has been a very stubborn
business at Court, as I have been informed. I never remember so many people
of quality to have died in so short a time.
27. I went to-day into the City, to thank Stratford for my books, and dine
with him, and settle my affairs of my money in the Bank, and receive a bill
for Mrs. Wesley for some things I am to buy for her; and the d---- a one of
all these could I do. The merchants were all out of town, and I was forced to
go to a little hedge place for my dinner. May my enemies live here in summer!
and yet I am so unlucky that I cannot possibly be out of the way at this
juncture. People leave the town so late in summer, and return so late in
winter, that they have almost inverted the seasons. It is autumn this good
while in St. James's Park; the limes have been losing their leaves, and those
remaining on the trees are all parched: I hate this season, where everything
grows worse and worse. The only good thing of it is the fruit, and that I
dare not eat. Had you any fruit at Wexford? A few cherries, and durst not
eat them. I do not hear we have yet got a new Privy Seal. The Whigs whisper
that our new Ministry differ among themselves, and they begin to talk out Mr.
Secretary: they have some reasons for their whispers, although I thought it
was a greater secret. I do not much like the posture of things; I always
apprehended that any falling out would ruin them, and so I have told them
several times. The Whigs are mighty full of hopes at present; and whatever is
the matter, all kind of stocks fall. I have not yet talked with the Secretary
about Prior's journey. I should be apt to think it may foretell a peace, and
that is all we have to preserve us. The Secretary is not come from Windsor,
but I expect him to-morrow. Burn all politics!
28. We begin to have fine weather, and I walked to-day to Chelsea, and dined
with the Dean of Carlisle, who is laid up with the gout. It is now fixed that
he is to be Dean of Christ Church in Oxford. I was advising him to use his
interest to prevent any misunderstanding between our Ministers; but he is too
wise to meddle, though he fears the thing and the consequences as much as I.
He will get into his own warm, quiet deanery, and leave them to themselves;
and he is in the right.--When I came home to-night, I found a letter from Mr.
Lewis, who is now at Windsor; and in it, forsooth, another which looked like
Presto's hand; and what should it be but a 19th from MD? O, faith, I 'scaped
narrowly, for I sent my 28th but on Saturday; and what should I have done if I
had two letters to answer at once? I did not expect another from Wexford,
that is certain. Well, I must be contented; but you are dear saucy girls, for
all that, to write so soon again, faith; an't you?
29. I dined to-day with Lord Abercorn, and took my leave of them: they set
out to-morrow for Chester, and, I believe, will now fix in Ireland. They have
made a pretty good journey of it: his eldest son[4] is married to a lady with
ten thousand pounds; and his second son[5] has, t'other day, got a prize in
the lottery of four thousand pounds, beside two small ones of two hundred
pounds each: nay, the family was so fortunate, that my lord bestowing one
ticket, which is a hundred pounds, to one of his servants, who had been his
page, the young fellow got a prize, which has made it another hundred. I went
in the evening to Lord Treasurer, who desires I will dine with him to-morrow,
when he will show me the answer he designs to return to the letter of thanks
from your bishops in Ireland. The Archbishop of Dublin desired me to get
myself mentioned in the answer which my lord would send; but I sent him word I
would not open my lips to my lord upon it. He says it would convince the
bishops of what I have affirmed, that the First-Fruits were granted before the
Duke of Ormond was declared Governor; and I writ to him that I would not give
a farthing to convince them. My Lord Treasurer began a health to my Lord
Privy Seal: Prior punned, and said it was so privy, he knew not who it was;
but I fancy they have fixed it all, and we shall know to-morrow. But what
care you who is Privy Seal, saucy sluttikins?
30. When I went out this morning, I was surprised with the news that the
Bishop of Bristol is made Lord Privy Seal. You know his name is Robinson,[6]
and that he was many years Envoy in Sweden. All the friends of the present
Ministry are extremely glad, and the clergy above the rest. The Whigs will
fret to death to see a civil employment given to a clergyman. It was a very
handsome thing in my Lord Treasurer, and will bind the Church to him for ever.
I dined with him to-day, but he had not written his letter;[see above, 29th
Aug.] but told me he would not offer to send it without showing it to me: he
thought that would not be just, since I was so deeply concerned in the affair.
We had much company: Lord Rivers, Mar,[7] and Kinnoull,[8] Mr. Secretary,
George Granville, and Masham: the last has invited me to the christening of
his son to-morrow se'ennight; and on Saturday I go to Windsor with Mr.
Secretary.
31. Dilly and I walked to-day to Kensington to Lady Mountjoy, who invited us
to dinner. He returned soon, to go to a play, it being the last that will be
acted for some time: he dresses himself like a beau, and no doubt makes a
fine figure. I went to visit some people at Kensington: Ophy Butler's
wife[9] there lies very ill of an ague, which is a very common disease here,
and little known in Ireland. I am apt to think we shall soon have a peace, by
the little words I hear thrown out by the Ministry. I have just thought of a
project to bite the town. I have told you that it is now known that Mr. Prior
has been lately in France. I will make a printer of my own sit by me one day,
and I will dictate to him a formal relation of Prior's journey,[10] with
several particulars, all pure invention; and I doubt not but it will take.
Sept. 1. Morning. I go to-day to Windsor with Mr. Secretary; and Lord
Treasurer has promised to bring me back. The weather has been fine for some
time, and I believe we shall have a great deal of dust.--At night. Windsor.
The Secretary and I dined to-day at Parson's Green, at my Lord Peterborow's
house, who has left it and his gardens to the Secretary during his absence.
It is the finest garden I have ever seen about this town; and abundance of hot
walls for grapes, where they are in great plenty, and ripening fast. I durst
not eat any fruit but one fig; but I brought a basket full to my friend Lewis
here at Windsor. Does Stella never eat any? what, no apricots at Donnybrook!
nothing but claret and ombre! I envy people maunching and maunching peaches
and grapes, and I not daring to eat a bit. My head is pretty well, only a
sudden turn any time makes me giddy for a moment, and sometimes it feels very
stuffed; but if it grows no worse, I can bear it very well. I take all
opportunities of walking; and we have a delicious park here just joining to
the Castle, and an avenue in the great park very wide and two miles long, set
with a double row of elms on each side. Were you ever at Windsor? I was
once, a great while ago; but had quite forgotten it.
2. The Queen has the gout, and did not come to chapel, nor stir out from her
chamber, but received the sacrament there, as she always does the first Sunday
in the month. Yet we had a great Court; and, among others, I saw your
Ingoldsby,[11] who, seeing me talk very familiarly with the Keeper, Treasurer,
etc., came up and saluted me, and began a very impertinent discourse about the
siege of Bouchain. I told him I could not answer his questions, but I would
bring him one that should; so I went and fetched Sutton (who brought over the
express about a month ago), and delivered him to the General, and bid him
answer his questions; and so I left them together. Sutton after some time
comes back in a rage, finds me with Lord Rivers and Masham, and there
complains of the trick I had played him, and swore he had been plagued to
death with Ingoldsby's talk. But he told me Ingoldsby asked him what I meant
by bringing him; so, I suppose, he smoked me a little. So we laughed, etc.
My Lord Willoughby,[12] who is one of the chaplains, and Prebendary of
Windsor, read prayers last night to the family; and the Bishop of Bristol, who
is Dean of Windsor, officiated last night at the Cathedral. This they do to
be popular; and it pleases mightily. I dined with Mr. Masham, because he lets
me have a select company: for the Court here have got by the end a good thing
I said to the Secretary some weeks ago. He showed me his bill of fare, to
tempt me to dine with him. "Poh," said I, "I value not your bill of fare;
give me your bill of company." Lord Treasurer was mightily pleased, and told
it everybody as a notable thing. I reckon upon returning to-morrow: they say
the Bishop will then have the Privy Seal delivered him at a great Council.
3. Windsor still. The Council was held so late to-day that I do not go back
to town till to-morrow. The Bishop was sworn Privy Councillor, and had the
Privy Seal given him: and now the patents are passed for those who were this
long time to be made lords or earls. Lord Raby,[13] who is Earl of Strafford,
is on Thursday to marry a namesake of Stella's; the daughter of Sir H. Johnson
in the City; he has three-score thousand pounds with her, ready money; besides
the rest at the father's death. I have got my friend Stratford to be one of
the directors of the South Sea Company, who were named to-day. My Lord
Treasurer did it for me a month ago; and one of those whom I got to be printer
of the Gazette I am recommending to be printer to the same company. He
treated Mr. Lewis and me to-day at dinner. I supped last night and this with
Lord Treasurer, Keeper, etc., and took occasion to mention the printer. I
said it was the same printer whom my Lord Treasurer has appointed to print for
the South Sea Company. He denied, and I insisted on it; and I got the laugh
on my side.
London, 4. I came as far as Brentford in Lord Rivers's chariot, who had
business with Lord Treasurer; then I went into Lord Treasurer's. We stopped
at Kensington, where Lord Treasurer went to see Mrs. Masham, who is now what
they call in the straw. We got to town by three, and I lighted at Lord
Treasurer's, who commanded me not to stir: but I was not well; and when he
went up, I begged the young lord to excuse me, and so went into the City by
water, where I could be easier, and dined with the printer, and dictated to
him some part of Prior's Journey to France. I walked from the City, for I
take all occasions of exercise. Our journey was horridly dusty.
5. When I went out to-day, I found it had rained mightily in the night, and
the streets were as dirty as winter: it is very refreshing after ten days
dry.--I went into the City, and dined with Stratford, thanked him for his
books, gave him joy of his being director, of which he had the first notice by
a letter from me. I ate sturgeon, and it lies on my stomach. I almost
finished Prior's Journey at the printer's; and came home pretty late, with
Patrick at my heels.
7. Morning. But what shall we do about this letter of MD's, N.19? Not a
word answered yet, and so much paper spent! I cannot do anything in it,
sweethearts, till night.--At night. O Lord, O Lord! the greatest disgrace
that ever was has happened to Presto. What do you think? but, when I was
going out this forenoon a letter came from MD, N.20, dated Dublin. O dear, O
dear! O sad, O sad!--Now I have two letters together to answer: here they
are, lying together. But I will only answer the first; for I came in late. I
dined with my friend Lewis at his lodgings, and walked at six to Kensington to
Mrs. Masham's son's christening. It was very private; nobody there but my
Lord Treasurer, his son and son-in-law, that is to say, Lord Harley and Lord
Dupplin, and Lord Rivers and I. The Dean of Rochester[14] christened the
child, but soon went away. Lord Treasurer and Lord Rivers were godfathers;
and Mrs. Hill,[15] Mrs. Masham's sister, godmother. The child roared like a
bull, and I gave Mrs. Masham joy of it; and she charged me to take care of my
nephew, because, Mr. Masham being a brother of our Society, his son, you know,
is consequently a nephew. Mrs. Masham sat up dressed in bed, but not, as they
do in Ireland, with all smooth about her, as if she was cut off in the middle;
for you might see the counterpane (what d'ye call it?) rise about her hips and
body. There is another name of the counterpane; and you will laugh now,
sirrahs. George Granville came in at supper, and we stayed till eleven; and
Lord Treasurer set me down at my lodging in Suffolk Street. Did I ever tell
you that Lord Treasurer hears ill with the left ear, just as I do? He always
turns the right, and his servants whisper him at that only. I dare not tell
him that I am so too, for fear he should think I counterfeited, to make my
court.
6. You must read this before the other; for I mistook, and forgot to write
yesterday's journal, it was so insignificant. I dined with Dr. Cockburn, and
sat the evening with Lord Treasurer till ten o'clock. On Thursdays he has
always a large select company, and expects me. So good-night for last night,
etc.
8. Morning. I go to Windsor with Lord Treasurer to-day, and will leave this
behind me, to be sent to the post. And now let us hear what says the first
letter, N.19. You are still at Wexford, as you say, Madam Dingley. I think
no letter from me ever yet miscarried. And so Inish-Corthy,[16] and the river
Slainy; fine words those in a lady's mouth. Your hand like Dingley's, you
scambling,[17] scattering sluttikin! YES, MIGHTY LIKE INDEED, IS NOT IT?[18]
Pisshh, do not talk of writing or reading till your eyes are well, and long
well; only I would have Dingley read sometimes to you, that you may not lose
the desire of it. God be thanked, that the ugly numbing is gone! Pray use
exercise when you go to town. What game is that ombra which Dr. Elwood[19]
and you play at? is it the Spanish game ombre? Your card-purse? you a card-
purse! you a fiddlestick. You have luck indeed; and luck in a bag. What a
devil! is that eight-shilling tea-kettle copper, or tin japanned? It is like
your Irish politeness, raffling for tea-kettles. What a splutter you keep, to
convince me that Walls has no taste! My head continues pretty well. Why do
you write, dear sirrah Stella, when you find your eyes so weak that you cannot
see? what comfort is there in reading what you write, when one knows that? So
Dingley cannot write, because of the clutter of new company come to Wexford!
I suppose the noise of their hundred horses disturbs you; or do you lie in one
gallery, as in an hospital? What! you are afraid of losing in Dublin the
acquaintance you have got in Wexford, and chiefly the Bishop of Raphoe,[20] an
old, doting, perverse coxcomb? Twenty at a time at breakfast. That is like
five pounds at a time, when it was never but once. I doubt, Madam Dingley,
you are apt to lie in your travels, though not so bad as Stella; she tells
thumpers, as I shall prove in my next, if I find this receives encouragement.-
-So Dr. Elwood says there are a world of pretty things in my works. A pox on
his praises! an enemy here would say more. The Duke of Buckingham would say
as much, though he and I are terribly fallen out; and the great men are
perpetually inflaming me against him: they bring me all he says of me, and, I
believe, make it worse out of roguery.--No, 'tis not your pen is bewitched,
Madam Stella, but your old SCRAWLING, SPLAY-FOOT POT-HOOKS, S, S,[21] ay
that's it: there the s, s, s, there, there, that's exact. Farewell, etc.
Our fine weather is gone; and I doubt we shall have a rainy journey to-day.
Faith, 'tis shaving-day, and I have much to do. When Stella says her pen was
bewitched, it was only because there was a hair in it. You know, the fellow
they call God-help-it had the same thoughts of his wife, and for the same
reason. I think this is very well observed, and I unfolded the letter to tell
you it.
Cut off those two notes above; and see the nine pounds indorsed, and receive
the other; and send me word how my accounts stand, that they may be adjusted
by Nov. 1.[22] Pray be very particular; but the twenty pounds I lend you is
not to be included: so make no blunder. I won't wrong you, nor you shan't
wrong me; that is the short. O Lord, how stout Presto is of late! But he
loves MD more than his life a thousand times, for all his stoutness; tell them
that; and that I'll swear it, as hope saved, ten millions of times, etc. etc.
I open my letter once more, to tell Stella that if she does not use exercise
after her waters, it will lose all the effects of them: I should not live if
I did not take all opportunities of walking. Pray, pray, do this, to oblige
poor Presto.
