The Journal to Stella by Jonathan Swift

Vanhomrigh, with her two daughters, Hester and Mary, were able to mix in fashionable society in London.

Swift was introduced to them by Sir Andrew Fountaine early in 1708, but evidently Stella did not make their acquaintance, nor indeed hear much, if anything, of them until the time of the Journal.

Swift’s visit to London in 1707−9 had for its object the obtaining for the Irish Church of the surrender by the Crown of the First−Fruits and Twentieths, which brought in about 2500 pounds a year. Nothing came of Swift’s interviews with the Whig statesmen, and after many disappointments he returned to Laracor (June 1709), and conversed with none but Stella and her card−playing friends, and Addison, now secretary to Lord Wharton.[4] Next year came the fall of the Whigs, and a request to Swift from the Irish bishops that he would renew the application for the First−Fruits, in the hope that there would be greater success with the Tories.

Swift reached London in September 1710, and began the series of letters, giving details of the events of each day, which now form the Journal to Stella. “I will write something every day to MD,” he says, “and make it a sort of journal; and when it is full I will send it, whether MD writes or no; and so that will be pretty; and I shall always be in conversation with MD, and MD with Presto.” It is interesting to note that by way of caution these letters were usually addressed to Mrs. Dingley, and not to Stella.

The story of Swift’s growing intimacy with the Tory leaders, of the success of his mission, of the increasing coolness towards older acquaintances, and of his services to the Government, can best be read in the Journal itself. In the meantime the intimacy with the Vanhomrighs grew rapidly. They were near neighbours of Swift’s, and in a few weeks after his arrival in town we find frequent allusions to the dinners at their house (where he kept his best gown and periwig), sometimes with the explanation that he went there “out of mere listlessness,” or because it was wet, or because another engagement had broken down. Only thrice does he mention the “eldest daughter”: once on her birthday; once on the occasion of a trick played him, when he received a message that she was suddenly very ill (“I rattled off the daughter”); and once to state that she was come of age, and was going to Ireland to look after her fortune. There is evidence that “Miss Essy,” or Vanessa, to give her the name by which she will always be known, was in correspondence with Swift in July 1710while he was still in Irelandand in the spring of 1711;[5] and early in 1711 Stella seems to have expressed surprise at Swift’s intimacy with the family, for in February he replied, “You say they are of no consequence; why, they keep as good female company as I do male; I see all the drabs of quality at this end of the town with them.” In the autumn Swift seems to have thought that Vanessa was keeping company with a certain Hatton, but Mrs. Long− −possibly meaning to give him a warning hintremarked that if this were so

“she is not the girl I took her for; but to me she seems melancholy.”

INTRODUCTION.

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The Journal to Stella

In 1712 occasional letters took the place of the daily journal to “MD,” but there is no change in the affectionate style in which Swift wrote. In the spring he had a long illness, which affected him, indeed, throughout the year. Other reasons which he gives for the falling off in his correspondence are his numerous business engagements, and the hope of being able to send some good news of an appointment for himself.

There is only one letter to Stella between July 19 and September 15, and Dr. Birkbeck Hill argues that the poem “Cadenus and Vanessa” was composed at that time.[6] If this be so, it must have been altered next year, because it was not until 1713 that Swift was made a Dean. Writing on April 19, 1726, Swift said that the poem “was written at Windsor near fourteen years ago, and dated: it was a task performed on a frolic among some ladies, and she it was addressed to died some time ago in Dublin, and on her death the copy shewn by her executor.” Several copies were in circulation, and he was indifferent what was done with it; it was “only a cavalier business,” and if those who would not give allowances were malicious, it was only what he had long expected.

From this letter it would appear that this remarkable poem was written in the summer of 1712; whereas the title−page of the pamphlet says it was “written at Windsor, 1713.” Swift visited Windsor in both years, but he had more leisure in 1712, and we know that Vanessa was also at Windsor in that year. In that year, too, he was forty−four, the age mentioned in the poem. Neither Swift nor Vanessa forgot this intercourse: years afterwards Swift wrote to her, “Go over the scenes of Windsor. . . . Cad thinks often of these”; and again,

“Remember the indisposition at Windsor.” We know that this poem was revised in 1719, when in all probability Swift added the lines to which most exception can be taken. Cadenus was to be Vanessa’s instructor:

“His conduct might have made him styled

A father, and the nymph his child.”

He had “grown old in politics and wit,” and “in every scene had kept his heart,” so that he now “understood not what was love.” But he had written much, and Vanessa admired his wit. Cadenus found that her thoughts wandered

“Though she seemed to listen more

To all he spoke than e’er before.”

When she confessed her love, he was filled with “shame, disappointment, guilt, surprise.” He had aimed only at cultivating the mind, and had hardly known whether she was young or old. But he was flattered, and though he could not give her love, he offered her friendship, “with gratitude, respect, esteem.” Vanessa took him at his word, and said she would now be tutor, though he was not apt to learn:

“But what success Vanessa met

Is to the world a secret yet.

Whether the nymph to please her swain

Talks in a high romantic strain;

Or whether he at last descends

To act with less seraphic ends;

Or, to compound the business, whether

They temper love and books together,

Must never to mankind be told,

Nor shall the conscious Muse unfold.”

Such is the poem as we now have it, written, it must be remembered, for Vanessa’s private perusal. It is to be regretted, for her own sake, that she did not destroy it.

Swift received the reward of his services to the Governmentthe Deanery of St. Patrick’s, Dublinin April 1713. Disappointed at what he regarded as exile, he left London in June. Vanessa immediately began to send him letters which brought home to him the extent of her passion; and she hinted at jealousy in the words, “If INTRODUCTION.

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The Journal to Stella

you are very happy, it is ill−natured of you not to tell me so, except ’tis what is inconsistent with my own.” In his reply Swift dwelt upon the dreariness of his surroundings at Laracor, and reminded her that he had said he would endeavour to forget everything in England, and would write as seldom as he could.

Swift was back again in the political strife in London in September, taking Oxford’s part in the quarrel between that statesman and Bolingbroke. On the fall of the Tories at the death of Queen Anne, he saw that all was over, and retired to Ireland, not to return again for twelve years. In the meantime the intimacy with Vanessa had been renewed. Her mother had died, leaving debts, and she pressed Swift for advice in the management of her affairs. When she suggested coming to Ireland, where she had property, he told her that if she took this step he would “see her very seldom.” However, she took up her abode at Celbridge, only a few miles from Dublin. Swift gave her many cautions, out of “the perfect esteem and friendship” he felt for her, but he often visited her. She was dissatisfied, however, begging him to speak kindly, and at least to counterfeit his former indulgent friendship. “What can be wrong,” she wrote, “in seeing and advising an unhappy young woman? You cannot but know that your frowns make my life unsupportable.” Sometimes he treated the matter lightly; sometimes he showed annoyance; sometimes he assured her of his esteem and love, but urged her not to make herself or him “unhappy by imaginations.” He was uniformly unsuccessful in stopping Vanessa’s importunity. He endeavoured, she said, by severities to force her from him; she knew she was the cause of uneasy reflections to him; but nothing would lessen her “inexpressible passion.”