hopes—M^{rs}. S.—& my dear Girl have been 2 Months with me and they have
this day left me to go to spend the Winter at York, after having settled
every thing to their hearts content—M^{rs}. Sterne retires into france,
whence she purposes not to stir, till her death.—& never, has she vow’d,
will give me another sorrowful or discontented hour—I have conquerd her,
as I w^d. every one else, by humanity & Generosity—& she leaves me, more
than half in Love w^{th}. me—She goes into the South of france, her
health being insupportable in England—& her age, as she now confesses
ten Years more, than I thought being on the edge of sixty—so God bless—&
make the remainder of her Life happy—in order to w^{ch}. I am to remit
her three hundred guineas a year—& give my dear Girl two thousand
p^{ds}.—w^{th}. w^{ch}. all Joy, I agree to,—but ’tis to be sunk into an
annuity in the french Loans—
—And now Eliza! Let me talk to thee—But What can I say, What can I
write—But the Yearnings of heart wasted with looking & wishing for thy
Return—Return—Return! my dear Eliza! May heaven smooth the Way for thee
to send thee safely to us, & joy for Ever.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
ORIGINAL LETTERS
OF
LAURENCE STERNE.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: Handwritten letter.]
[Illustration: Handwritten letter.]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
ORIGINAL LETTERS
OF
LAURENCE STERNE
TO
DANIEL DRAPER, ESQ.
[Coxwould, 1767?]
I OWN it, Sir, that the writing a letter to a gentleman I have not the
honour to be known to—a letter likewise upon no kind of business (in the
ideas of the world) is a little out of the common course of things—but
I’m so myself, and the impulse which makes me take up my pen is out of
the common way too, for it arises from the honest pain I should feel in
having so great esteem and friendship as I bear for Mrs. Draper—if I did
not wish to hope and extend it to Mr. Draper also. I am really, dear
sir, in love with your wife; but ’tis a love you would honour me for,
for ’tis so like that I bear my own daughter, who is a good creature,
that I scarce distinguish a difference betwixt it—that moment I had
would have been the last.
I wish it had been in my power to have been of true use to Mrs. Draper
at this distance from her best protector. I have bestowed a great deal
of pains (or rather, I should say, pleasure) upon her head—her heart
needs none—and her head as little as any daughter of Eve’s, and indeed
less than any it has been my fate to converse with for some years. I
wish I could make myself of any service to Mrs. D. whilst she is in
India, and I in the world—for worldly affairs I could be of none.
I wish you, dear sir, many years’ happiness. ’Tis a part of my Litany,
to pray for her health and life. She is too good to be lost, and I would
out of pure zeal take a pilgrimage to Mecca to seek a medicine.[37]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration:
Commodore James, by Sir Joshua Reynolds.
]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
TO MR. AND MRS. JAMES.
Coxwould, Aug^{st}. 10, 1767.
MY DEAR FRIENDS,
I but copy your great civility to me—in writing you word, that I
have this moment rec^d. another Letter, wrote eighteen days
after the date of the last from S^t. Iago—If our poor friend
could have wrote another Letter to England, you will in course
have it—but I fear from the circumstance of great hurry, and
bodily disorder when she dispatch’d this she might not have
time—In case it has so fallen out—I send you the contents of
w^t. I have rec^d.—and that is a melancholly history of herself
and sufferings since they left Iago—continual and most violent
rhumatism all the time—a fever brought on—with fits—and attended
with Delirium, and every terrifying symptome—the recovery from
this left her low and emaciated to a skeleton—I give you the
pain of this detail with a bleeding heart—knowing how much at
the same time it will affect yours—The three or four last days
in her journal, leave us with hopes she will do well at last—for
she is more chearful, and seems to be getting up her spirits—&
health in course with it.—They have cross’d the Line—are much
becalm’d—w^{ch}. with other delays, [s]he fears, they will lose
their passage to Madrass—& be some months sooner for it at
Bombay—Heaven protect this worthy creature! for she suffers
much, & with uncommon fortitude—She writes much to me ab^t. her
dear friend M^{rs}. James in her last Packet—in truth, my good
Lady, she honours & loves you from her heart—but if she did
not—I should not Love her half so well myself as I do.
Adieu my dear friends—You have Very few in the world,
more truely & cordially y^{rs}.
L. STERNE.
_P.S._
I have just rec^d. as a present from a right Hon^{ble}.[38] a
most elegant gold Snuff fabricated for me at Paris—I wish Eliza
was here, I would lay it at her feet—however, I will enrich my
gold Box, with her picture,—& if the Doner does not approve of
such an acquisition to his pledge of friendship—I will send him
his Box again—
* * * * *
May I presume to inclose you the Letter I write to M^{rs}.
Draper—I know you will write yourself—& my Letter may have the
honour to chaperon yours to India. M^{rs}. Sterne & my daughter
are coming to stay a couple of months with [me], as far as from
Avignion—& then return—Here’s Complaisance for you—I went 500
miles the last Spring, out of my way, to pay my wife a weeks
visit—and she is at the expence of coming post a thousand miles
to return it—what a happy pair!—however, en passant, she takes
back sixteen hundred p^{ds}. into France with her—and will do me
the honour likewise to strip me of every thing I have—Except
Eliza’s Picture, Adieu.
_Endorsed_:—
To M^{rs}. James
in Gerard Street,
Soho,
London.
Free Fauconberg.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
TO MR. AND MRS. JAMES.
York, Dec. 28, 1767.
I WAS afraid that either my friend M^r. James, or M^{rs}. James,
or their little Blossome was drooping, or that some of you were
ill by not having the pleasure of a line from you, & was
thinking of writing again to enquire after you all—when I was
cast down myself with a fever, & bleeding at my lungs, which had
confined me to my room three weeks, when I had the favour of
y^{rs}. which till to day I have not been able to thank you both
kindly for, as I most cordially now do,—as well as for all y^r.
proofs & professions of good will to me—I will not say, I have
not ballanced Acc^{ts}. with you in this—all I know, is, That I
honour and value you more than I do any good creature upon
earth—& that I could not wish y^r. happiness and the Success of
whatever conduces to it, more than I do, was I your Brother—but
good god! are we not all brothers and sisters, who are friendly
& virtuous & good?—
Surely my dear friends, my Illness has made a sort of sympathy
for y^r. Afflictions upon the Score of y^r. dear little one—and
I make no doubt when I see Eliza’s Journal, I shall find she has
been ill herself at that time—I am rent to pieces with
uncertainty ab^t. this dear friend of ours—I think too much—&
interest my self so deeply by my friendship for her, that I am
worn down to a Shadow—to this I owe my decay of health—but I
can’t help it——
As my fever has left me, I set off the latter end of the week
with my friend M^r. Hall for Town—I need not tell my friends in
Gerard Street, I shall do myself the Honour to visit them before
either Lord Shelburn or Lord Spencer &c. &c.—
I thank you my dear friend, for what you say so kindly ab^t. my
Daughter—it shews y^r. good heart, as she is a stranger, ’tis a
free Gift in you—but when she is known to you—she shall win _it
fairly_—but Alas! when this event is to happen, is in the
clouds—M[rs.] Sterne has hired a house ready fur[nished] at
York, till she returns to france & my Lydia must not leave her—
What a sad scratch of a Letter—but I am weak my dear friends
both in body & mind—so God bless you—Youl see me enter like a
Ghost—so I tell you before hand, not to be frighten’d.
I am, my dear friends
with truest attachment &
end esteem Y^{rs}.
L. STERNE.
_Endorsed_:—
To
M^r. or M^{rs}. James
Gerrard Street
Soho
London.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
LETTERS
OF
ELIZABETH DRAPER.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
LETTERS
OF
ELIZABETH DRAPER.
TO ——[39]
[Tellicherry April, 1769.]
MY DEAR SIR
IT’S with great pleasure I take every opportunity of paying my
Duty to you, but more particularly this by the Grenville, as by
her I’m enabled to give you a better account of Mr. Drapers
success as a Merchant, than he flatter’d himself with any hopes
of, upon his arrival at Tellicherry, and if Fortune continues to
be as propitious to us, the six ensuing Seasons, as she’s proved
the last,—Mr. D. would not thank the Directors for nominating
him to the Government of Bombay. We are both well, entirely
contented and wish not to exchange our situation, but for an
Independence in England, which I hope we are in the way of
obtaining, and may accomplish in six or seven Years,
notwithstanding Hyder Ally maintains his Ground, and has
absolutely refused to listen to terms of Peace from the
Madrassers, unless they will make over Trichinopoly to him.
This, they think they can not in point of Honor, or Conscience
do—tho’ they are heartily tired of the War, & wish to
accommodate with him, on reasonable terms—they are now preparing
for a long Siege, which he has threatened them with, and if they
do not receive Supplies of Money, & Troops, from England, God
knows! what will be their fate!—as Hyder is really a very
clever, and enterprising Man,—accustomed to face, & Conquer
Europeans and has for his surest adviser, one of the best
Politicians in India, Governour Laws—of Pondicherry, whom it is
imagined, has always plan’d each of his Campaigns; the Gentlemen
of Bengal have drained their Treasury, to befriend those of
Madrass—but the Governour of Bombay—will not consent to assist
them in any respect, tho’ he has often been solicited to do
it—and a little timely aid from our side, might have prevented
the present melancholy prospect, but he says, he has no notion
of Quixotism adventures, and as we cannot benefit by the
troubles, he will not risque our suffering any loss,—this
argument is very cruel,[40] & superficial, tho’ at first it may
appear Specious, ’tis impolitic too, because if the Madrassers
are worsted, we certainly shall be the next Prey—but that’s a
distant Day, & he always quotes “sufficient to the Day is the
Evil thereof.” but he is a poor, despicable[41] Creature, in
every respect and as unfit for a Governour—as I am for an
Arch-Bishop, not one Individual, is there at Bombay, his
friend,—and in short, he neither is—or deserves to be, Loved,
esteem’d, or feared. We are very particularly interested in
Hyders success, at this Settlement, as he has most of the
Country powers, about us, in total subjection, & infests our
Coast, with his Fleet, to intercept our Merchantmen, their’s no
leaving us, now for Bombay, with any safety, without a Convoy, &
the Bombay Cruizers, three or four of them, are Stationed
between Carwar, Onore, & Mount Dilly, for that purpose. we are
terribly infested too, by the Cooley Boats, & Mallawans. the
Morattas, had the Insolence to surround Bombay with their Fleet
a few months since, which did not a little terrify our
Pusillanimous General, but they soon dispersed when the
Commodore received Permission to ask them some questions. it’s
imagined this Bravado was effected at the Instigation of Hyder,
to Divert us from all thoughts of sending Troops to Madrass, it
answerd his hopes—but if he had bribed the Governours Brahmin to
be his friend, it would have done as well—for nothing in Public
or domestic Concerns, is transacted at Bombay, without that
Fellows knowledge & consent some of the Gentlemen by way of
reprimand, have advised Mr. Hodges to give him a Seat at
Council. our Island is now very Populous—very expensive, very
improvable, & would be very flourishing, if we had a proper Man
at the head of affairs. This Coast has been vastly injured by
Hyders Ravages. ’tis nothing in Comparison to what it was some
Years ago, but would still be the Source of profit to the
Company, & a Tellicherry Chief if the War was once happily
terminated.—Most of the Gentlemen that distinguished themselves,
by behaving ill at Mangulore, have been broke by a General Court
Martial at Bombay. it was a tedious affair—lasting upwards of
six Weeks, tho’ the Members met Daily,—This my dear Sir, is all
the Public Intelligence, I can recollect, worthy of transmitting
you, and now for a little private, Tom Whitehill, my kind Uncle,
is well—I often hear from him & he must by all accounts, have
made himself independent, by this time. he is increasing his
Family of Natural Children, but declared to me, that he never
would give them more than five thousand rupees each, because he
would not tempt any Gentleman to marry them for the sake of
Money, and he had rather dispose of them to Phesendars of their
own Colour—than to Europeans—he has one Daughter marriageable,
two young ones, & two or three infant Sons,—I never hear from
Jack Whitehill, but I know he is well, from my Correspondents at
Madrass, I hope he does not maintain Silence to his English
friends, as ...[42] should he be a good Accomptant & write
swiftly Mr. Draper would be very glad of him here—make it worth
his while, and keep him out of harms way, as he is in want of
just such a Person, You know his inability to use the Pen—he has
lost his two Clerks too, & if I was not capable of assisting, &
maintaining his Correspondence for him I know not what he would
do, at this juncture. I only fulfil my Duty—and have not the
least merit in it—as a good Purvoe that thoroughly understood
English, and spelled properly—would answer his Views still
better. Louisa is very advantageously married, to the Commander
of our Forces, a Colonel Pemble, he is handsome, amiable and
magnificent in his temper—his Income amounts to thirty thousand
Rupees a year—but I fear they stand little chance of saving a
Fortune, as they are Gay—extravagant, & fond of Company, but I
know not if it signifies much—as they love India—are healthy,
admired, and esteemed here—and not very desirous of exchanging
affluence in the Eastern ...[43] fondness, and is a Prince in
Spirit, and occasional good works, they are on no terms with the
Governour, neither visiting, or being visited by him. A Mr
Banister, that is much older than yourself & formerly knew you
in the Service, now resides here—he desired me to present his
kindest remembrances to you, assuring you of his unalterable
esteem, & good wishes. The good Man & his Wife live very
comfortably—are well. and much noticed with respectful attention
I hope to be favor’d with long & interesting letters from Europe
by the next Ship—England, which was always dear to me—was never
so much so as now!—the We[l]fare of my dear Children, sits very
near my heart, & I cannot help feeling great anxiety on their
account, tho’ I am confident of Mrs. Whitehills care, and best
attention to their true Interest, God preserve the poor babes!
may they live to give satisfaction to their Parents—and reflect
honour on their amiable Protectress! I hope you had an agreeable
Summer in the Society of my friend and little ...[44] by
presenting my compliments to him, and best wishes for his
health, and enjoyment of England; we _now_ wish him our Head
again, would to Heaven he had not left us a Prey to the foolish
policy, and low Cunning of an Hodges[44]! the wish is entirely
general, not a moist Eye—or grave Countenance will be visible on
his Departure, unless it’s his Female Coffary Shirt airers,—for
a few Rupees, or mere form’s sake. oh! he is gloriously hated!
and I prognosticate, ever will be so—even by the Wife of his
Bosom—if he is Dotard enough with his jealous propen[sities] and
Selfish particularities, to make a second choice! but no:—his
avarice will prevent his marrying again, for a good Woman would
loathe his Wealth with such an Incumbrance as himself—and a bad
one’s ...[45] happy—prays your ever grateful and ...[45]ed
Child.
ELIZA DRAPER
Tellicherry
April 1769
P.S.
Mr Draper presents you his respectful Compliments, with t[he
sin]cerest assurences of his doing every thi[ng i]n his power
for Stephen, if you se[nd him] to Bombay.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration:
Belvidere House, by Lee Woodward Zeigler, from an original sketch by
J. B. Frazer.
]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
To M^{RS}. ANNE JAMES.
Bombay 15^{th}. April 1772.
I NOW have before me, Dearest of Women, and Friend twenty sheets of your
writing received this year; and mean to answer every page of it which
I’ve not yet replied to distinctly—the first Letter is dated 15^{th}.
May 1771 by Tryon of the Deptford, this I answered months ago—as I did
that of the 5^{th}. April, by Captain Allen, the contents of which
related wholly to himself & M^r. Cooper his Nephew, and one of the same
date, by M^r. Allen his Purser to the same effect—Your next is dated
28^{th}. April and enclosed an Account of Money Matters—that of the
20^{th}. should have been handed first, but as it contains much more
importantant [_sic_] matter, I purposely omitted giving it the
Precedence—from meaning to speak at large on some parts of it.—You say
my dear, _that you had_
“_suffered much Uneasiness at hearing that I thought you had not
acted a friendly part by me in protecting two unfortunate
People,[46] and requesting me to make a contribution amongst my
friends in their Favor:—that, this Report touched you to the
heart; tho’ you disbelieved it, as it was inconsistent with my
Humanity, my opinion of you, and the reverse of all my letters,
and yet, when you found, that I had wrote to Becket,[47] your
Ideas’ were rather confused; for if I had, had a proper reliance
on you, I need not have applied to him; as I might have
supposed, you would find some means to secure my letters, if
violent measures had been the Widows Plan; but, that you, was
perfectly easy as to that matter; and imagined I should have
been the same; knowing you to be my Friend—that there was a
stiffness, in my calling you M^{rs}. James, which eat you to the
heart, particularly, when I said I could not accost you with my
usual Freedom—What had you done to create reserve, & distance?
and had my letter concluded in the same style, you should have
believed I was altered, not you._”