WINDSOR, _Sept._ 8, 1711.
I MADE the coachman stop, and put in my twenty-ninth at the post-office
at two o’clock to-day, as I was going to Lord Treasurer, with whom I
dined, and came here by a quarter-past eight; but the moon shone, and so
we were not in much danger of overturning; which, however, he values not
a straw, and only laughs when I chide at him for it. There was nobody
but he and I, and we supped together, with Mr. Masham, and Dr. Arbuthnot,
the Queen’s favourite physician, a Scotchman. I could not keep myself
awake after supper, but did all I was able to disguise it, and thought I
came off clear; but, at parting, he told me I had got my nap already. It
is now one o’clock; but he loves sitting up late.
9. The Queen is still in the gout, but recovering: she saw company in
her bed-chamber after church; but the crowd was so great, I could not see
her. I dined with my brother Sir William Wyndham, {290b} and some others
of our Society, to avoid the great tables on Sunday at Windsor, which I
hate. The usual company supped to-night at Lord Treasurer’s, which was
Lord Keeper, Mr. Secretary, George Granville, Masham, Arbuthnot, and I.
But showers have hindered me from walking to-day, and that I do not
love.—Noble fruit, and I dare not eat a bit. I ate one fig to-day, and
sometimes a few mulberries, because it is said they are wholesome, and
you know a good name does much. I shall return to town to-morrow, though
I thought to have stayed a week, to be at leisure for something I am
doing. But I have put it off till next; for I shall come here again on
Saturday, when our Society are to meet at supper at Mr. Secretary’s. My
life is very regular here: on Sunday morning I constantly visit Lord
Keeper, and sup at Lord Treasurer’s with the same set of company. I was
not sleepy to-night; I resolved I would not; yet it is past midnight at
this present writing.
London, 10. Lord Treasurer and Masham and I left Windsor at three this
afternoon: we dropped Masham at Kensington with his lady, and got home by
six. It was seven before we sat down to dinner, and I stayed till past
eleven. Patrick came home with the Secretary: I am more plagued with
Patrick and my portmantua than with myself. I forgot to tell you that
when I went to Windsor on Saturday I overtook Lady Giffard and Mrs.
Fenton {291a} in a chariot, going, I suppose, to Sheen. I was then in a
chariot too, of Lord Treasurer’s brother, who had business with the
Treasurer; and my lord came after, and overtook me at Turnham Green, four
miles from London; and then the brother went back, and I went in the
coach with Lord Treasurer: so it happened that those people saw me, and
not with Lord Treasurer. Mrs. F. was to see me about a week ago; and
desired I would get her son into the Charter-house.
11. This morning the printer sent me an account of Prior’s _Journey_;
{291b} it makes a twopenny pamphlet. I suppose you will see it, for I
dare engage it will run; ’tis a formal, grave lie, from the beginning to
the end. I writ all but about the last page; that I dictated, and the
printer writ. Mr. Secretary sent to me to dine where he did; it was at
Prior’s: when I came in, Prior showed me the pamphlet, seemed to be
angry, and said, “Here is our English liberty!” I read some of it, and
said I liked it mightily, and envied the rogue the thought; for, had it
come into my head, I should have certainly done it myself. We stayed at
Prior’s till past ten; and then the Secretary received a packet with the
news of Bouchain being taken, for which the guns will go off to-morrow.
Prior owned his having been in France, for it was past denying: it seems
he was discovered by a rascal at Dover, who had positive orders to let
him pass. I believe we shall have a peace.
12. It is terrible rainy weather, and has cost me three shillings in
coaches and chairs to-day, yet I was dirty into the bargain. I was three
hours this morning with the Secretary about some business of moment, and
then went into the City to dine. The printer tells me he sold yesterday
a thousand of Prior’s _Journey_, and had printed five hundred more. It
will do rarely, I believe, and is a pure bite. And what is MD doing all
this while? got again to their cards, their Walls, their deans, their
Stoytes, and their claret? Pray present my service to Mr. Stoyte and
Catherine. Tell Goody Stoyte she owes me a world of dinners, and I will
shortly come over and demand them.—Did I tell you of the Archbishop of
Dublin’s last letter? He had been saying, in several of his former, that
he would shortly write to me something about myself; and it looked as if
he intended something for me: at last out it comes, and consists of two
parts. First, he advises me to strike in for some preferment now I have
friends; and secondly, he advises me, since I have parts, and learning,
and a happy pen, to think of some new subject in divinity not handled by
others, which I should manage better than anybody. A rare spark this,
with a pox! but I shall answer him as rarely. Methinks he should have
invited me over, and given me some hopes or promises. But hang him! and
so good-night, etc.
13. It rained most furiously all this morning till about twelve, and
sometimes thundered; I trembled for my shillings, but it cleared up, and
I made a shift to get a walk in the Park, and then went with the
Secretary to dine with Lord Treasurer. Upon Thursdays there is always a
select company: we had the Duke of Shrewsbury, Lord Rivers, the two
Secretaries, Mr. Granville, and Mr. Prior. Half of them went to Council
at six; but Rivers, Granville, Prior, and I, stayed till eight. Prior
was often affecting to be angry at the account of his journey to Paris;
and indeed the two last pages, which the printer got somebody to add,
{293a} are so romantic, they spoil all the rest. Dilly Ashe pretended to
me that he was only going to Oxford and Cambridge for a fortnight, and
then would come back. I could not see him as I appointed t’other day;
but some of his friends tell me he took leave of them as going to
Ireland; and so they say at his lodging. I believe the rogue was ashamed
to tell me so, because I advised him to stay the winter, and he said he
would. I find he had got into a good set of scrub acquaintance, and I
thought passed his time very merrily; but I suppose he languished after
Balderig, and the claret of Dublin; and, after all, I think he is in the
right; for he can eat, drink, and converse better there than here.
Bernage was with me this morning: he calls now and then; he is in
terrible fear of a peace. He said he never had his health so well as in
Portugal. He is a favourite of his Colonel.
14. I was mortified enough to-day, not knowing where in the world to
dine, the town is so empty. I met H. Coote, {293b} and thought he would
invite me, but he did not: Sir John Stanley did not come into my head; so
I took up with Mrs. Van, and dined with her and her damned landlady, who,
I believe, by her eyebrows, is a bawd. This evening I met Addison and
Pastoral Philips in the Park, and supped with them at Addison’s lodgings:
we were very good company, and I yet know no man half so agreeable to me
as he is. I sat with them till twelve, so you may think it is late,
young women; however, I would have some little conversation with MD
before your Presto goes to bed, because it makes me sleep, and dream, and
so forth. Faith, this letter goes on slowly enough, sirrahs; but I
cannot write much at a time till you are quite settled after your
journey, you know, and have gone all your visits, and lost your money at
ombre. You never play at chess now, Stella. That puts me in mind of
Dick Tighe; I fancy I told you he used to beat his wife here; and she
deserved it; and he resolves to part with her; and they went to Ireland
in different coaches. O Lord, I said all this before, I am sure. Go to
bed, sirrahs.
Windsor, 15. I made the Secretary stop at Brentford, because we set out
at two this afternoon, and fasting would not agree with me. I only
designed to eat a bit of bread-and-butter; but he would light, and we ate
roast beef like dragons. And he made me treat him and two more
gentlemen; faith, it cost me a guinea. I do not like such jesting, yet I
was mightily pleased with it too. To-night our Society met at the
Secretary’s: there were nine of us; and we have chosen a new member, the
Earl of Jersey, {294a} whose father died lately. ’Tis past one, and I
have stolen away.
16. I design to stay here this week by myself, about some business that
lies on my hands, and will take up a great deal of time. Dr. Adams,
{294b} one of the canons, invited me to-day to dinner. The tables are so
full here on Sunday that it is hard to dine with a few, and Dr. Adams
knows I love to do so; which is very obliging. The Queen saw company in
her bed-chamber; she looks very well, but she sat down. I supped with
Lord Treasurer as usual, and stayed till past one as usual, and with our
usual company, except Lord Keeper, who did not come this time to Windsor.
I hate these suppers mortally, but I seldom eat anything.
17. Lord Treasurer and Mr. Secretary stay here till to-morrow; some
business keeps them, and I am sorry for it, for they hinder me a day.
Mr. Lewis and I were going to dine soberly with a little Court friend at
one. But Lord Harley and Lord Dupplin kept me by force, and said we
should dine at Lord Treasurer’s, who intended to go at four to London. I
stayed like a fool, and went with the two young lords to Lord Treasurer,
who very fairly turned us all three out of doors. They both were invited
to the Duke of Somerset, but he was gone to a horse-race, and would not
come till five; so we were forced to go to a tavern, and sent for wine
from Lord Treasurer’s, who at last, we were told, did not go to town till
the morrow, and at Lord Treasurer’s we supped again; and I desired him to
let me add four shillings to the bill I gave him. We sat up till two,
yet I must write to little MD.
18. They are all gone early this morning, and I am alone to seek my
fortune; but Dr. Arbuthnot engages me for my dinners; and he yesterday
gave me my choice of place, person, and victuals for to-day. So I chose
to dine with Mrs. Hill, who is one of the dressers, and Mrs. Masham’s
sister, no company but us three, and to have a shoulder of mutton, a
small one; which was exactly, only there was too much victuals besides;
and the Doctor’s wife {295a} was of the company. And to-morrow Mrs. Hill
and I are to dine with the Doctor. I have seen a fellow often about
Court whom I thought I knew. I asked who he was, and they told me it was
the gentleman porter; then I called him to mind; he was Killy’s
acquaintance (I won’t say yours); I think his name is Lovet, {295b} or
Lovel, or something like it. I believe he does not know me, and in my
present posture I shall not be fond of renewing old acquaintance; I
believe I used to see him with the Bradleys; and, by the way, I have not
seen Mrs. Bradley since I came to England. I left your letter in London,
like a fool; and cannot answer it till I go back, which will not be until
Monday next; so this will be above a fortnight from my last; but I will
fetch it up in my next; so go and walk to the Dean’s for your health this
fine weather.
19. The Queen designs to have cards and dancing here next week, which
makes us think she will stay here longer than we believed. Mrs. Masham
is not well after her lying-in: I doubt she got some cold; she is lame in
one of her legs with a rheumatic pain. Dr. Arbuthnot and Mrs. Hill go
to-morrow to Kensington to see her, and return the same night. Mrs. Hill
and I dined with the Doctor to-day. I rode out this morning with the
Doctor to see Cranburn, a house of Lord Ranelagh’s, {296a} and the
Duchess of Marlborough’s lodge, and the Park; the finest places they are,
for nature and plantations, that ever I saw; and the finest riding upon
artificial roads, made on purpose for the Queen. Arbuthnot made me draw
up a sham subscription for a book, called _A History of the Maids of
Honour since Harry the Eighth_, showing they make the best wives, with a
list of all the maids of honour since, etc.; to pay a crown in hand, and
the other crown upon delivery of the book; and all in common forms of
those things. We got a gentleman to write it fair, because my hand is
known; and we sent it to the maids of honour, when they came to supper.
If they bite at it, it will be a very good Court jest; and the Queen will
certainly have it: we did not tell Mrs. Hill.
20. To-day I was invited to the Green Cloth by Colonel Godfrey, who
married the Duke of Marlborough’s sister, {296b} mother to the Duke of
Berwick by King James: I must tell you those things that happened before
you were born. But I made my excuses, and young Harcourt (Lord Keeper’s
son) and I dined with my next neighbour, Dr. Adams. {297a} Mrs. Masham
is better, and will be here in three or four days. She had need; for the
Duchess of Somerset is thought to gain ground daily.—We have not sent you
over all your bills; and I think we have altered your money-bill. The
Duke of Ormond is censured here, by those in power, for very wrong
management in the affair of the mayoralty. {297b} He is governed by
fools, and has usually much more sense than his advisers, but never
proceeds by it. I must know how your health continues after Wexford.
Walk and use exercise, sirrahs both; and get somebody to play at
shuttlecock with you, Madam Stella, and walk to the Dean’s and
Donnybrook.
21. Colonel Godfrey sent to me again to-day; so I dined at the Green
Cloth, and we had but eleven at dinner, which is a small number there,
the Court being always thin of company till Saturday night.—This new ink
and pen make a strange figure; _I must write larger_, _yes I must_, _or
Stella will not be able to read this_. {297c} S. S. S., there is your
S’s for you, Stella. The maids of honour are bit, and have all
contributed their crowns, and are teasing others to subscribe for the
book. I will tell Lord Keeper and Lord Treasurer to-morrow; and I
believe the Queen will have it. After a little walk this evening, I
squandered away the rest of it in sitting at Lewis’s lodging, while he
and Dr. Arbuthnot played at picquet. I have that foolish pleasure, which
I believe nobody has beside me, except old Lady Berkeley. {297d} But I
fretted when I came away: I will loiter so no more, for I have a plaguy
deal of business upon my hands, and very little time to do it. The
pamphleteers begin to be very busy against the Ministry: I have begged
Mr. Secretary to make examples of one or two of them, and he assures me
he will. They are very bold and abusive.
22. This being the day the Ministry come to Windsor, I ate a bit or two
at Mr. Lewis’s lodgings, because I must sup with Lord Treasurer; and at
half an hour after one, I led Mr. Lewis a walk up the avenue, which is
two miles long. We walked in all about five miles; but I was so tired
with his slow walking, that I left him here, and walked two miles towards
London, hoping to meet Lord Treasurer, and return with him; but it grew
darkish, and I was forced to walk back, so I walked nine miles in all;
and Lord Treasurer did not come till after eight; which is very wrong,
for there was no moon, and I often tell him how ill he does to expose
himself so; but he only makes a jest of it. I supped with him, and
stayed till now, when it is half an hour after two. He is as merry and
careless and disengaged as a young heir at one-and-twenty. ’Tis late
indeed.
23. The Secretary did not come last night, but at three this afternoon.
I have not seen him yet, but I verily think they are contriving a peace
as fast as they can, without which it will be impossible to subsist. The
Queen was at church to-day, but was carried in a chair. I and Mr. Lewis
dined privately with Mr. Lowman, {298} Clerk of the Kitchen. I was to
see Lord Keeper this morning, and told him the jest of the maids of
honour; and Lord Treasurer had it last night. That rogue Arbuthnot puts
it all upon me. The Court was very full to-day. I expected Lord
Treasurer would have invited me to supper; but he only bowed to me; and
we had no discourse in the drawing-room. It is now seven at night, and I
am at home; and I hope Lord Treasurer will not send for me to supper: if
he does not, I will reproach him; and he will pretend to chide me for not
coming.—So farewell till I go to bed, for I am going to be busy.—It is
now past ten, and I went down to ask the servants about Mr. Secretary:
they tell me the Queen is yet at Council, and that she went to supper,
and came out to the Council afterwards. It is certain they are managing
a peace. I will go to bed, and there is an end.—It is now eleven, and a
messenger is come from Lord Treasurer to sup with them; but I have
excused myself, and am glad I am in bed; for else I should sit up till
two, and drink till I was hot. Now I’ll go sleep.
London, 24. I came to town by six with Lord Treasurer, and have stayed
till ten. That of the Queen’s going out to sup, and coming in again, is
a lie, as the Secretary told me this morning; but I find the Ministry are
very busy with Mr. Prior, and I believe he will go again to France. I am
told so much, that we shall certainly have a peace very soon. I had
charming weather all last week at Windsor; but we have had a little rain
to-day, and yesterday was windy. Prior’s _Journey_ sells still; they
have sold two thousand, although the town is empty. I found a letter
from Mrs. Fenton here, desiring me, in Lady Giffard’s name, to come and
pass a week at Sheen, while she is at Moor Park. I will answer it with a
vengeance: and now you talk of answering, there is MD’s N. 20 is yet to
be answered: I had put it up so safe, I could hardly find it; but here it
is, faith, and I am afraid I cannot send this till Thursday; for I must
see the Secretary to-morrow morning, and be in some other place in the
evening.
25. Stella writes like an emperor, and gives such an account of her
journey, never saw the like. Let me see; stand away, let us compute; you
stayed four days at Inish-Corthy, two nights at Mrs. Proby’s mother’s,
and yet was but six days in journey; for your words are, “We left Wexford
this day se’ennight, and came here last night.” I have heard them say
that “travellers may lie by authority.” Make up this, if you can. How
far is it from Wexford to Dublin? how many miles did you travel in a day?
{299} Let me see—thirty pounds in two months is nine score pounds a
year; a matter of nothing in Stella’s purse! I dreamed Billy Swift was
alive, and that I told him you writ me word he was dead, and that you had
been at his funeral; and I admired at your impudence, and was in mighty
haste to run and let you know what lying rogues you were. Poor lad! he
is dead of his mother’s former folly and fondness; and yet now I believe,
as you say, that her grief will soon wear off.—O yes, Madam Dingley,
mightily tired of the company, no doubt of it, at Wexford! And your
description of it is excellent; clean sheets, but bare walls; I suppose
then you lay upon the walls.—Mrs. Walls has got her tea; but who pays me
the money? Come, I shall never get it; so I make a present of it, to
stop some gaps, etc. Where’s the thanks of the house? So, that’s well;
why, it cost four-and-thirty shillings English—you must adjust that with
Mrs. Walls; I think that is so many pence more with you.—No, Leigh and
Sterne, I suppose, were not at the water-side: I fear Sterne’s business
will not be done; I have not seen him this good while. I hate him, for
the management of that box; and I was the greatest fool in nature for
trusting to such a young jackanapes; I will speak to him once more about
it, when I see him. Mr. Addison and I met once more since, and I supped
with him; I believe I told you so somewhere in this letter. The
Archbishop chose an admirable messenger in Walls, to send to me; yet I
think him fitter for a messenger than anything.—The D— she has! I did
not observe her looks. Will she rot out of modesty with Lady Giffard? I
pity poor Jenny {300}—but her husband is a dunce, and with respect to him
she loses little by her deafness. I believe, Madam Stella, in your
accounts you mistook one liquor for another, and it was an hundred and
forty quarts of wine, and thirty-two of water.—This is all written in the
morning before I go to the Secretary, as I am now doing. I have answered
your letter a little shorter than ordinary; but I have a mind it should
go to-day, and I will give you my journal at night in my next; for I’m so
afraid of another letter before this goes: I will never have two together
again unanswered.—What care I for Dr. Tisdall and Dr. Raymond, or how
many children they have! I wish they had a hundred apiece.—Lord
Treasurer promises me to answer the bishops’ letter to-morrow, and show
it me; and I believe it will confirm all I said, and mortify those that
threw the merit on the Duke of Ormond; for I have made him jealous of it;
and t’other day, talking of the matter, he said, “I am your witness, you
got it for them before the Duke was Lord Lieutenant.” My humble service
to Mrs. Walls, Mrs. Stoyte, and Catherine. Farewell, etc.
What do you do when you see any literal mistakes in my letters? how do
you set them right? for I never read them over to correct them.
Farewell, again.
Pray send this note to Mrs. Brent, to get the money when Parvisol comes
to town, or she can send to him.