LONDON, _Nov._ 15, 1712.
BEFORE this comes to your hands, you will have heard of the most terrible
accident that hath almost ever happened. This morning, at eight, my man
brought me word that the Duke of Hamilton had fought with Lord Mohun,
{467a} and killed him, and was brought home wounded. {467b} I
immediately sent him to the Duke’s house, in St. James’s Square; but the
porter could hardly answer for tears, and a great rabble was about the
house. In short, they fought at seven this morning. The dog Mohun was
killed on the spot; and while {467c} the Duke was over him, Mohun,
shortening his sword, stabbed him in at the shoulder to the heart. The
Duke was helped toward the cake-house by the Ring in Hyde Park (where
they fought), and died on the grass, before he could reach the house; and
was brought home in his coach by eight, while the poor Duchess {467d} was
asleep. Maccartney, {467e} and one Hamilton, {467f} were the seconds,
who fought likewise, and are both fled. I am told that a footman of Lord
Mohun’s stabbed the Duke of Hamilton; and some say Maccartney did so too.
Mohun gave the affront, and yet sent the challenge. I am infinitely
concerned for the poor Duke, who was a frank, honest, good-natured man.
I loved him very well, and I think he loved me better. He had {467g} the
greatest mind in the world to have me go with him to France, but durst
not tell it me; and those he did, said I could not be spared, which was
true. They have removed the poor Duchess to a lodging in the
neighbourhood, where I have been with her two hours, and am just come
away. I never saw so melancholy a scene; for indeed all reasons for real
grief belong to her; nor is it possible for anybody to be a greater loser
in all regards. She has moved my very soul. The lodging was
inconvenient, and they would have removed her to another; but I would not
suffer it, because it had no room backward, and she must have been
tortured with the noise of the Grub Street screamers mention[ing] her
husband’s murder to her ears.
I believe you have heard the story of my escape, in opening the bandbox
sent to Lord Treasurer. {468a} The prints have told a thousand lies of
it; but at last we gave them a true account of it at length, printed in
the evening; {468b} only I would not suffer them to name me, having been
so often named before, and teased to death with questions. I wonder how
I came to have so much presence of mind, which is usually not my talent;
but so it pleased God, and I saved myself and him; for there was a bullet
apiece. A gentleman told me that if I had been killed, the Whigs would
have called it a judgment, because the barrels were of inkhorns, with
which I had done them so much mischief. There was a pure Grub Street of
it, full of lies and inconsistencies. {468c} I do not like these things
at all, and I wish myself more and more among my willows. {468d} There
is a devilish spirit among people, and the Ministry must exert
themselves, or sink. Nite dee sollahs, I’ll go seep. {469a}
16. I thought to have finished this yesterday; but was too much
disturbed. I sent a letter early this morning to Lady Masham, to beg her
to write some comforting words to the poor Duchess. I dined to-[day]
with Lady Masham at Kensington, where she is expecting these two months
to lie in. She has promised me to get the Queen to write to the Duchess
kindly on this occasion; and to-morrow I will beg Lord Treasurer to visit
and comfort her. I have been with her two hours again, and find her
worse: her violences not so frequent, but her melancholy more formal and
settled. She has abundance of wit and spirit; about thirty-three years
old; handsome and airy, and seldom spared anybody that gave her the least
provocation; by which she had many enemies and few friends. Lady Orkney,
her sister-in-law, is come to town on this occasion, and has been to see
her, and behaved herself with great humanity. They have been always very
ill together, and the poor Duchess could not have patience when people
told her I went often to Lady Orkney’s. But I am resolved to make them
friends; for the Duchess is now no more the object of envy, and must
learn humility from the severest master, Affliction. I design to make
the Ministry put out a proclamation (if it can be found proper) against
that villain Maccartney. What shall we do with these murderers? I
cannot end this letter to-night, and there is no occasion; for I cannot
send it till Tuesday, and the crowner’s inquest on the Duke’s body is to
be to-morrow, and I shall know more. But what care oo for all this?
Iss, poo MD im sorry for poo Pdfr’s {469b} friends; and this is a very
surprising event. ’Tis late, and I’ll go to bed. This looks like
journals. Nite.
17. I was to-day at noon with the Duchess of Hamilton again, after I had
been with Lady Orkney, and charged her to be kind to her sister in her
affliction. The Duchess told me Lady Orkney had been with her, and that
she did not treat her as gently as she ought. They hate one another, but
I will try to patch it up. I have been drawing up a paragraph for the
_Postboy_, to be out to-morrow, and as malicious as possible, and very
proper for Abel Roper, {470a} the printer of it. I dined at Lord
Treasurer’s at six in the evening, which is his usual hour of returning
from Windsor: he promises to visit the Duchess to-morrow, and says he has
a message to her from the Queen. Thank God. I have stayed till past one
with him. So nite deelest MD. {470b}
18. The Committee of Council is to sit this afternoon upon the affair of
the Duke of Hamilton’s murder, and I hope a proclamation will be out
against Maccartney. I was just now (’tis now noon) with the Duchess, to
let her know Lord Treasurer will see her. She is mightily out of order.
The jury have not yet brought in their verdict upon the crowner’s
inquest. We suspect Maccartney stabbed the Duke while he was fighting.
The Queen and Lord Treasurer are in great concern at this event. I dine
to-day again with Lord Treasurer; but must send this to the post-office
before, because else I shall not have time; he usually keeping me so
late. Ben Tooke bid me write to DD to send her certificate, for it is
high time it should be sent, he says. Pray make Parvisol write to me,
and send me a general account of my affairs; and let him know I shall be
over in spring, and that by all means he sells the horses. Prior has
kissed the Queen’s hand, and will return to France in a few days, and
Lord Strafford to Holland; and now the King of Spain has renounced his
pretensions to France, the peace must follow very soon unavoidably. You
must no more call Philip, Duke of Anjou, for we now acknowledge him King
of Spain. Dr. Pratt tells me you are all mad in Ireland with your
playhouse frolics and prologues, and I know not what. The Bishop of
Clogher and family are well: they have heard from you, or you from them,
lately, I have forgot which: I dined there t’other day, but the Bishop
came not till after dinner; and our meat and drink was very so so. Mr.
Vedeau {471a} was with me yesterday, and inquired after you. He was a
lieutenant, and is now broke, and upon half-pay. He asked me nothing for
himself; but wanted an employment for a friend, who would give a handsome
pair of gloves. One Hales sent me up a letter t’other day, which said
you lodged in his house, and therefore desired I would get him a civil
employment. I would not be within, and have directed my man to give him
an answer, that I never open letters brought me by the writers, etc. I
was complaining to a lady that I wanted to mend an employment from forty
to sixty pounds a year, in the Salt Office, and thought it hard I could
not do it. She told me one Mr. Griffin {471b} should do it. And
afterward I met Griffin at her lodgings; and he was, as I found, one I
had been acquainted with. I named Filby {471c} to him, and his abode
somewhere near Nantwich. He said frankly he had formerly examined the
man, and found he understood very little of his business; but if he heard
he mended, he would do what I desired. I will let it rest a while, and
then resume it; and if Ppt writes to Filby, she may advise him to
diligence, etc. I told Griffin positively I would have it done, if the
man mended. This is an account of poo Ppt’s commission to her most
humble servant Pdfr. I have a world of writing to finish, and little
time; these toads of Ministers are so slow in their helps. This makes me
sometimes steal a week from the exactness I used to write to MD.
Farewell, dee logues, deelest MD MD MD, . . . FW FW FW ME ME ME Lele.