LONDON, _Oct._ 9, 1711.
I WAS forced to lie down at twelve to-day, and mend my night’s sleep: I
slept till after two, and then sent for a bit of mutton and pot of ale
from the next cook’s shop, and had no stomach. I went out at four, and
called to see Biddy Floyd, which I had not done these three months: she
is something marked, but has recovered her complexion quite, and looks
very well. Then I sat the evening with Mrs. Vanhomrigh, and drank
coffee, and ate an egg. I likewise took a new lodging to-day, not liking
a ground-floor, nor the ill smell, and other circumstances. I lodge, or
shall lodge, by Leicester Fields, and pay ten shillings a week; that
won’t hold out long, faith. I shall lie here but one night more. It
rained terribly till one o’clock to-day. I lie, for I shall lie here two
nights, till Thursday, and then remove. Did I tell you that my friend
Mrs. Barton has a brother {311b} drowned, that went on the expedition
with Jack Hill? He was a lieutenant-colonel, and a coxcomb; and she
keeps her chamber in form, and the servants say she receives no
messages.—Answer MD’s letter, Presto, d’ye hear? No, says Presto, I
won’t yet, I’m busy; you’re a saucy rogue. Who talks?
10. It cost me two shillings in coach-hire to dine in the City with a
printer. I have sent, and caused to be sent, three pamphlets out in a
fortnight. I will ply the rogues warm; and whenever anything of theirs
makes a noise, it shall have an answer. I have instructed an under
spur-leather to write so, that it is taken for mine. A rogue that writes
a newspaper, called _The Protestant Postboy_, has reflected on me in one
of his papers; but the Secretary has taken him up, and he shall have a
squeeze extraordinary. He says that an ambitious tantivy, {312a} missing
of his towering hopes of preferment in Ireland, is come over to vent his
spleen on the late Ministry, etc. I’ll tantivy him with a vengeance. I
sat the evening at home, and am very busy, and can hardly find time to
write, unless it were to MD. I am in furious haste.
11. I dined to-day with Lord Treasurer. Thursdays are now his days when
his choice company comes, but we are too much multiplied. George
Granville sent his excuses upon being ill; I hear he apprehends the
apoplexy, which would grieve me much. Lord Treasurer calls Prior nothing
but Monsieur Baudrier, which was the feigned name of the Frenchman that
writ his _Journey to Paris_. {312b} They pretend to suspect me, so I
talk freely of it, and put them out of their play. Lord Treasurer calls
me now Dr. Martin, because martin {312c} is a sort of a swallow, and so
is a swift. When he and I came last Monday from Windsor, we were reading
all the signs on the road. {312d} He is a pure trifler; tell the Bishop
of Clogher so. I made him make two lines in verse for the Bell and
Dragon, and they were rare bad ones. I suppose Dilly is with you by this
time: what could his reason be of leaving London, and not owning it?
’Twas plaguy silly. I believe his natural inconstancy made him weary. I
think he is the king of inconstancy. I stayed with Lord Treasurer till
ten; we had five lords and three commoners. Go to ombre, sirrahs.
12. Mrs. Vanhomrigh has changed her lodging as well as I. She found she
had got with a bawd, and removed. I dined with her to-day; for though
she boards, her landlady does not dine with her. I am grown a mighty
lover of herrings; but they are much smaller here than with you. In the
afternoon I visited an old major-general, and ate six oysters; then sat
an hour with Mrs. Colledge, {313a} the joiner’s daughter that was hanged;
it was the joiner was hanged, and not his daughter; with Thompson’s wife,
a magistrate. There was the famous Mrs. Floyd of Chester, who, I think,
is the handsomest woman (except MD) that ever I saw. She told me that
twenty people had sent her the verses upon Biddy, {313b} as meant to her:
and, indeed, in point of handsomeness, she deserves them much better. I
will not go to Windsor to-morrow, and so I told the Secretary to-day. I
hate the thoughts of Saturday and Sunday suppers with Lord Treasurer.
Jack Hill is come home from his unfortunate expedition, and is, I think,
now at Windsor: I have not yet seen him. He is privately blamed by his
own friends for want of conduct. He called a council of war, and therein
it was determined to come back. But they say a general should not do
that, because the officers will always give their opinion for returning,
since the blame will not lie upon them, but the general. I pity him
heartily. Bernage received his commission to-day.
13. I dined to-day with Colonel Crowe, {313c} late Governor of
Barbadoes; he is a great acquaintance of your friend Sterne, to whom I
trusted the box. Lord Treasurer has refused Sterne’s business, and I
doubt he is a rake; Jemmy Leigh stays for him, and nobody knows where to
find him. I am so busy now I have hardly time to spare to write to our
little MD, but in a fortnight I hope it will be over. I am going now to
be busy, etc.
14. I was going to dine with Dr. Cockburn, but Sir Andrew Fountaine met
me, and carried me to Mrs. Van’s, where I drank the last bottle of
Raymond’s wine, admirable good, better than any I get among the Ministry.
I must pick up time to answer this letter of MD’s; I’ll do it in a day or
two for certain.—I am glad I am not at Windsor, for it is very cold, and
I won’t have a fire till November. I am contriving how to stop up my
grate with bricks. Patrick was drunk last night; but did not come to me,
else I should have given him t’other cuff. I sat this evening with Mrs.
Barton; it is the first day of her seeing company; but I made her merry
enough, and we were three hours disputing upon Whig and Tory. She
grieved for her brother only for form, and he was a sad dog. Is Stella
well enough to go to church, pray? no numbings left? no darkness in your
eyes? do you walk and exercise? Your exercise is ombre.—People are
coming up to town: the Queen will be at Hampton Court in a week. Lady
Betty Germaine, I hear, is come; and Lord Pembroke is coming: his wife
{314a} is as big with child as she can tumble.
15. I sat at home till four this afternoon to-day writing, and ate a
roll and butter; then visited Will Congreve an hour or two, and supped
with Lord Treasurer, who came from Windsor to-day, and brought Prior with
him. The Queen has thanked Prior for his good service in France, and
promised to make him a Commissioner of the Customs. Several of that
Commission are to be out; among the rest, my friend Sir Matthew Dudley.
I can do nothing for him, he is so hated by the Ministry. Lord Treasurer
kept me till twelve, so I need not tell you it is now late.
16. I dined to-day with Mr. Secretary at Dr. Coatesworth’s, {314b} where
he now lodges till his house be got ready in Golden Square. One Boyer,
{314c} a French dog, has abused me in a pamphlet, and I have got him up
in a messenger’s hands: the Secretary promises me to swinge him. Lord
Treasurer told me last night that he had the honour to be abused with me
in a pamphlet. I must make that rogue an example, for warning to others.
I was to see Jack Hill this morning, who made that unfortunate
expedition; and there is still more misfortune; for that ship, which was
admiral of his fleet, {315a} is blown up in the Thames, by an accident
and carelessness of some rogue, who was going, as they think, to steal
some gunpowder: five hundred men are lost. We don’t yet know the
particulars. I am got home by seven, and am going to be busy, and you
are going to play and supper; you live ten times happier than I; but I
should live ten times happier than you if I were with MD. I saw Jemmy
Leigh to-day in the street, who tells me that Sterne has not lain above
once these three weeks in his lodgings, and he doubts he takes ill
courses; he stays only till he can find Sterne to go along with him, and
he cannot hear of him. I begged him to inquire about the box when he
comes to Chester, which he promises.
17. The Secretary and I dined to-day with Brigadier Britton, {315b} a
great friend of his. The lady of the house is very gallant, about
thirty-five; she is said to have a great deal of wit; but I see nothing
among any of them that equals MD by a bar’s length, as hope saved. My
Lord Treasurer is much out of order; he has a sore throat, and the
gravel, and a pain in his breast where the wound was: pray God preserve
him. The Queen comes to Hampton Court on Tuesday next; people are coming
fast to town, and I must answer MD’s letter, which I can hardly find time
to do, though I am at home the greatest part of the day. Lady Betty
Germaine and I were disputing Whig and Tory to death this morning. She
is grown very fat, and looks mighty well. Biddy Floyd was there, and she
is, I think, very much spoiled with the smallpox.
18. Lord Treasurer is still out of order, and that breaks our method of
dining there to-day. He is often subject to a sore throat, and some time
or other it will kill him, unless he takes more care than he is apt to
do. It was said about the town that poor Lord Peterborow was dead at
Frankfort; but he is something better, and the Queen is sending him to
Italy, where I hope the warm climate will recover him: he has abundance
of excellent qualities, and we love one another mightily. I was this
afternoon in the City, ate a bit of meat, and settled some things with a
printer. I will answer your letter on Saturday, if possible, and then
send away this; so to fetch up the odd days I lost at Windsor, and keep
constant to my fortnight. Ombre time is now coming on, and we shall have
nothing but Manley, and Walls, and Stoytes, and the Dean. Have you got
no new acquaintance? Poor girls; nobody knows MD’s good qualities.—’Tis
very cold; but I will not have a fire till November, that’s pozz.—Well,
but coming home to-night, I found on my table a letter from MD; faith, I
was angry, that is, with myself; and I was afraid too to see MD’s hand so
soon, for fear of something, I don’t know what: at last I opened it, and
it was over well, and a bill for the two hundred guineas. However, ’tis
a sad thing that this letter is not gone, nor your twenty-first answered
yet.
19. I was invited to-day to dine with Mrs. Van, with some company who
did not come; but I ate nothing but herrings; you must know I hardly ever
eat of above one thing, and that the plainest ordinary meat at table; I
love it best, and believe it wholesomest. You love rarities; yes you do;
I wish you had all that I ever see where I go. I was coming home early,
and met the Secretary in his chair, who persuaded me to go with him to
Britton’s; for he said he had been all day at business, and had eaten
nothing. So I went, and the time passed so, that we stayed till two, so
you may believe ’tis late enough.
20. This day has gone all wrong, by sitting up so late last night. Lord
Treasurer is not yet well, and can’t go to Windsor. I dined with Sir
Matthew Dudley, and took occasion to hint to him that he would lose his
employment, for which I am very sorry. Lord Pembroke and his family are
all come to town. I was kept so long at a friend’s this evening that I
cannot send this to-night. When I knocked at my lodgings, a fellow asked
me where lodged Dr. Swift? I told him I was the person: he gave me a
letter he brought from the Secretary’s office, and I gave him a shilling:
when I came up, I saw Dingley’s hand: faith, I was afraid, I do not know
what. At last it was a formal letter, from Dingley about her exchequer
business. Well, I’ll do it on Monday, and settle it with Tooke. And
now, boys, for your letter, I mean the first, N. 21. Let’s see; come
out, little letter. I never had the letter from the Bishop that Raymond
mentions; but I have written to Ned Southwell, to desire the Duke of
Ormond to speak to his reverence, that he may leave off his impertinence.
What a pox can they think I am doing for the Archbishop here? You have a
pretty notion of me in Ireland, to make me an agent for the Archbishop of
Dublin.—Why! do you think I value your people’s ingratitude about my part
in serving them? I remit them their first-fruits of ingratitude, as
freely as I got the other remitted to them. The Lord Treasurer defers
writing his letter to them, or else they would be plaguily confounded by
this time. For he designs to give the merit of it wholly to the Queen
and me, and to let them know it was done before the Duke of Ormond was
Lord Lieutenant. You visit, you dine abroad, you see friends; you
pilgarlick; {317a} you walk from Finglas, you a cat’s foot. O Lord—Lady
Gore {317b} hung her child by the _waist_; what is that waist? {318} I
don’t understand that word; he must hang on till you explain or spell
it.—I don’t believe he was pretty, that’s a liiii.—Pish! burn your
First-Fruits; again at it. Stella has made twenty false spellings in her
writing; I’ll send them to you all back again on the other side of this
letter, to mend them; I won’t miss one. Why, I think there were
seventeen bishops’ names to the letter Lord Oxford received.—I will send
you some pamphlets by Leigh; put me in mind of it on Monday, for I shall
go then to the printer; yes, and the _Miscellany_. I am mightily obliged
to Walls, but I don’t deserve it by any usage of him here, having seen
him but twice, and once en passant. Mrs. Manley forsworn ombre! What!
and no blazing star appear? no monsters born? no whale thrown up? have
you not found out some evasion for her? She had no such regard to oaths
in her younger days. I got the books for nothing, Madam Dingley; but the
wine I got not; it was but a promise.—Yes, my head is pretty well in the
main, only now and then a little threatening or so.—You talk of my
reconciling some great folks. I tell you what. The Secretary told me
last night that he had found the reason why the Queen was cold to him for
some months past; that a friend had told it him yesterday; and it was,
that they suspected he was at the bottom with the Duke of Marlborough.
Then he said he had reflected upon all I had spoken to him long ago, but
he thought it had only been my suspicion, and my zeal and kindness for
him. I said I had reason to take that very ill, to imagine I knew so
little of the world as to talk at a venture to a great Minister; that I
had gone between him and Lord Treasurer often, and told each of them what
I had said to the other, and that I had informed him so before. He said
all that you may imagine to excuse himself, and approve my conduct. I
told him I knew all along that this proceeding of mine was the surest way
to send me back to my willows in Ireland, but that I regarded it not,
provided I could do the kingdom service in keeping them well together. I
minded him how often I had told Lord Treasurer, Lord Keeper, and him
together, that all things depended on their union, and that my comfort
was to see them love one another; and I had told them all singly that I
had not said this by chance, etc. He was in a rage to be thus suspected;
swears he will be upon a better foot, or none at all; and I do not see
how they can well want him in this juncture. I hope to find a way of
settling this matter. I act an honest part, that will bring me neither
honour nor praise. MD must think the better of me for it: nobody else
shall ever know of it. Here’s politics enough for once; but Madam DD
gave me occasion for it. I think I told you I have got into lodgings
that don’t smell ill—O Lord! the spectacles: well, I’ll do that on Monday
too; although it goes against me to be employed for folks that neither
you nor I care a groat for. Is the eight pounds from Hawkshaw included
in the thirty-nine pounds five shillings and twopence? How do I know by
this how my account stands? Can’t you write five or six lines to cast it
up? Mine is forty-four pounds per annum, and eight pounds from Hawkshaw
makes fifty-two pounds. Pray set it right, and let me know; you had
best.—And so now I have answered N. 21, and ’tis late, and I will answer
N. 22 in my next: this cannot go to-night, but shall on Tuesday: and so
go to your play, and lose your money, with your two eggs a penny; silly
jade; you witty? very pretty.
21. Mrs. Van would have me dine with her again to-day, and so I did,
though Lady Mountjoy has sent two or three times to have me see and dine
with her, and she is a little body I love very well. My head has ached a
little in the evenings these three or four days, but it is not of the
giddy sort, so I do not much value it. I was to see Lord Harley to-day,
but Lord Treasurer took physic; and I could not see him. He has voided
much gravel, and is better, but not well: he talks of going on Tuesday to
see the Queen at Hampton Court; I wish he may be able. I never saw so
fine a summer day as this was: how is it with you, pray? and can’t you
remember, naughty packs? I han’t seen Lord Pembroke yet. He will be
sorry to miss Dilly: I wonder you say nothing of Dilly’s being got to
Ireland; if he be not there soon, I shall have some certain odd thoughts:
guess them if you can.
22. I dined in the City to-day with Dr. Freind, at one of my printers: I
inquired for Leigh, but could not find him: I have forgot what sort of
apron you want. I must rout among your letters, a needle in a bottle of
hay. I gave Sterne directions, but where to find him Lord knows. I have
bespoken the spectacles; got a set of _Examiners_, and five pamphlets,
which I have either written or contributed to, except the best, which is
the _Vindication of the Duke of Marlborough_, and is entirely of the
author of the _Atalantis_. {320} I have settled Dingley’s affair with
Tooke, who has undertaken it, and understands it. I have bespoken a
_Miscellany_: what would you have me do more? It cost me a shilling
coming home; it rains terribly, and did so in the morning. Lord
Treasurer has had an ill day, in much pain. He writes and does business
in his chamber now he is ill: the man is bewitched: he desires to see me,
and I’ll maul him, but he will not value it a rush. I am half weary of
them all. I often burst out into these thoughts, and will certainly
steal away as soon as I decently can. I have many friends, and many
enemies; and the last are more constant in their nature. I have no
shuddering at all to think of retiring to my old circumstances, if you
can be easy; but I will always live in Ireland as I did the last time; I
will not hunt for dinners there, nor converse with more than a very few.
23. Morning. This goes to-day, and shall be sealed by and by. Lord
Treasurer takes physic again to-day: I believe I shall dine with Lord
Dupplin. Mr. Tooke brought me a letter directed for me at Morphew’s the
bookseller. I suppose, by the postage, it came from Ireland. It is a
woman’s hand, and seems false spelt on purpose: it is in such sort of
verse as Harris’s petition; {321a} rallies me for writing merry things,
and not upon divinity; and is like the subject of the Archbishop’s last
letter, as I told you. Can you guess whom it came from? It is not ill
written; pray find it out. There is a Latin verse at the end of it all
rightly spelt; yet the English, as I think, affectedly wrong in many
places. My plaguing time is coming. A young fellow brought me a letter
from Judge Coote, {321b} with recommendation to be lieutenant of a
man-of-war. He is the son of one Echlin, {321c} who was minister of
Belfast before Tisdall, and I have got some other new customers; but I
shall trouble my friends as little as possible. Saucy Stella used to
jeer me for meddling with other folks’ affairs; but now I am punished for
it.—Patrick has brought the candle, and I have no more room. Farewell,
etc. etc.