friends; and this is a very surprising event. ‘Tis late, and I’ll go to bed. This looks like journals. Nite.
LETTER 55.[1]
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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,[15] 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.[16]
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[17] 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[18] 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[19] 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.
Smoke the folding of my letters of late.[20]
LETTER 56.[1]
LONDON, Dec. 12, 1712.
Here is now a stlange ting; a rettle flom MD unanswered: never was before. I am slower, and MD is faster: but the last was owing to DD’s certificate. Why could it not be sent before, pay now? Is it so hard for DD to prove she is alive? I protest solemnly I am not able to write to MD for other business, but I will resume my journal method next time. I find it is easier, though it contains nothing but where I dine, and the occurrences of the day. I will write now but once in three weeks till this business is off my hands, which must be in six, I think, at farthest. O Ppt, I remember your reprimanding me for meddling in other people’s affairs: I have LETTER 56.[1]
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enough of it now, with a wanion.[2] Two women have been here six times apiece; I never saw them yet. The first I have despatched with a letter; the other I must see, and tell her I can do nothing for her: she is wife of one Connor,[3] an old college acquaintance, and comes on a foolish errand, for some old pretensions, that will succeed when I am Lord Treasurer. I am got [up] two pair of stairs, in a private lodging, and have ordered all my friends not to discover where I am; yet every morning two or three sots are plaguing me, and my present servant has not yet his lesson perfect of denying me. I have written a hundred and thirty pages in folio, to be printed, and must write thirty more, which will make a large book of four shillings.[4] I wish I knew an opportunity of sending you some snuff. I will watch who goes to Ireland, and do it if possible. I had a letter from Parvisol, and find he has set my livings very low. Colonel Hamilton, who was second to the Duke of Hamilton, is tried to− day. I suppose he is come off, but have not heard.[5] I dined with Lord Treasurer, but left him by nine, and visited some people. Lady Betty,[6] his[7] daughter, will be married on Monday next (as I suppose) to the Marquis of Caermarthen. I did not know your country place had been Portraine, till you told me so in your last. Has Swanton taken it of Wallis? That Wallis was a grave, wise coxcomb. God be thanked that Ppt im better of her disoddles.[8] Pray God keep her so. The pamphlet of Political Lying is written by Dr. Arbuthnot, the author of John Bull; ’tis very pretty, but not so obvious to be understood. Higgins,[9] first chaplain to the Duke of Hamilton? Why, the Duke of Hamilton never dreamt of a chaplain, nor I believe ever heard of Higgins. You are glorious newsmongers in IrelandDean Francis,[10]
Sir R. Levinge,[11] stuff stuff: and Pratt, more stuff. We have lost our fine frost here; and Abel Roper tells as you have had floods in Dublin; ho, brave[12] you! Oh ho! Swanton seized Portraine, now I understand oo.
Ay, ay, now I see Portraune at the top of your letter. I never minded it before. Now to your second, N.36. So, you read one of the Grub Streets about the bandbox.[13] The Whig papers have abused me about the bandbox. God help me, what could I do? I fairly ventured my life. There is a particular account of it in the Postboy, and Evening Post of that day. Lord Treasurer has had the seal sent him that sealed the box, and directions where to find the other pistol in a tree in St. James’s Park, which Lord Bolingbroke’s messenger found accordingly; but who sent the present is not yet known. The Duke of Hamilton avoided the quarrel as much as possible, according to the foppish rules of honour in practice. What signified your writing angry to Filby? I hope you said nothing of hearing anything from me. Heigh! do oo write by sandlelight! nauti, nauti, nauti dallar, a hundred times, fol doing so. O, fais, DD, I’ll take care of myself! The Queen is in town, and Lady Masham’s month of lying− in is within two days of being out. I was at the christening on Monday. I could not get the child named Robin, after Lord Treasurer; it is Samuel, after the father. My brother Ormond sent me some chocolate to−day. I wish you had share of it: but they say ’tis good for me, and I design to drink some in a morning. Our Society meets next Thursday, now the Queen is in town; and Lord Treasurer assures me that the Society for reforming the language shall soon be established. I have given away ten shillings to−day to servants; ‘tan’t be help if one should cry one’s eyes out.[14] Hot a stir is here about your company and visits! Charming company, no doubt; now I keep no company at all, nor have I any desire to keep any. I never go to a coffee−house nor a tavern, nor have touched a card since I left Windsor. I make few visits, nor go to levees; my only debauching is sitting late where I dine, if I like the company. I have almost dropped the Duchesses of Shrewsbury and Hamilton, and several others. Lord Treasurer, the Duke of Ormond, and Lady Orkney are all that I see very often. Oh yes, and Lady Masham and Lord Bolingbroke, and one or two private friends. I make no figure but at Court, where I affect to turn from a lord to the meanest of my acquaintance, and I love to go there on Sundays to see the world. But, to say the truth, I am growing weary of it. I dislike a million of things in the course of public affairs; and if I were to stay here much longer, I am sure I should ruin myself with endeavouring to mend them. I am every day invited into schemes of doing this, but I cannot find any that will probably succeed. It is impossible to save people against their own will; and I have been too much engaged in patchwork already. Do you understand all this stuff? No. Well zen, you are now returned to ombre and the Dean, and Christmas; I wish oo a very merry one; and pray don’t lose oo money, nor play upon Watt Welch’s game. Nite, sollahs, ’tis rate I’ll go to seep; I don’t seep well, and therefore never dare to drink coffee or tea after dinner: but I am very seepy in a molning. This is the effect of time and years. Nite deelest MD.