ings effectual to what I intended them; at a distance I am likeliest to learn your mind, for you have not a very obliging way of delivering itt by word of mouth; if, therefore, you will let me know the particulars in which I may be usefull to you, I will shew my readiness as to my own part, and if I fail of the success I wish, it shall not be the fault of, your humble servant, ROCHESTER. I intend to be at Adderbury some time next week. THE EARL OF ROCHESTER TO HIS WIFE. PRAY do not take it ill that I have writ to you so seldom since my coming to town; my being in waiting upon the sad accident of Madame's death (for which the king endures the highest affliction imaginable) would not allow me time or power to write letters. You have heard the thing, but the barbarousness of the manner you may guess at by my relation. Monsieur, since the banishment of the Chevalier de Lorrain (of which he suspected Madame to be the author), has ever behaved himself very ill to her in all things, threatening her upon all occasions, that if she did not get Lorrain recalled, she might expect from him the worst that could befal her. It was not now in her power to perform what he expected: so that she returning to Paris, he immediately carried her away to St. Cloud, where having remained fifteen days in good health, she having been bathing one morning, and finding herself very dry, called for some succory water (a cordial julep she usually took upon these occasions), and being then very merry, discoursing with some of the ladies that were with her, she had no swallowed this succory water, but immediately falling into Madame de Chattellon's arms, she cried she was dead, and sending for her confessor, after eight hours infinite torment in her stomach and bowels, she died the most lamented (both in France and England) since dying has been in fashion. But I will not keep you too long upon this doleful relation: it is enough to make most wives in the world very melancholy but I thank you for my cheeses, my sugar of roses, and all my good things. Pray let it not be necessary for me to put you too often in mind of what you ought not to be less forward in doing than in advising. I hope you will give me no occasion to explain myself: for if I am put upon that, you will find me very troublesome. I received no letter from you with one inclosed to your mother, nor do I believe you writ any. Besides, I find by another circumstance, that the returns of letters betwixt London and Adderbury are very tedious. If you write to me, you must direct to Lincoln's Inn Fields, the house next to the Duke's Play House, in Portugal Row; there lives your humble servant, ROCHESTER. THE EARL OF ROCHESTER TO HIS SON. I HOPE, Charles, when you receive this, and know that I have sent this gentleman to be your tutour, you will be very gladde to see I take such care of you, and be very gratefull, which is best shown in being obedient and diligent. You are now grown big enough to be a man, and you can be wise enough; for the way to be truely wise is to serve God, learne your book, and observe the instructions of your parents first, and next your tutour, to whom I have entirely resigned you for this seven yeare, and according as you imploy that time, you are to bee happy or unhappy for ever; but I have so good an opinion of you, that I am glad to thinke you will never deceive me; dear child, learn your book and be obedient, and you shall see what a father I will be to you. You shall want no pleasure while you are good, and that you may be soe are my constant prayers. ROCHESTER, THE HON. HENRY SIDNEY TO LADY VAUGHAN, London, February 2, 1670. IF my Lady Vaughan had persisted any longer in her silence, I was chosen by her friends at Charing Cross to chide her; and though her writing once to her poor, beggarly, ill-favoured sister (Lady Northumberland) has taken away my commission to rebuke her, it shall not hinder me, having had once orders, to write to her, hoping that my letters may be as welcome as Mr. Muddman's: and, in order to making them so, I will begin my gazette by informing you that Sir William-that worthy, ancient gentleman!pushes his addresses to his widow with his wonted vigour, and with so good success, that he is become my greatest envy, who cannot carry the hopes of my poor friend for his widow with half so much encouragement. I am almost at my wit's ends about it; and I doubt I shall at last utterly despair, and make doleful ditties on the cruelty of your sex. We say in town that her cousin Tishy is not half so cruel to Mr. Cheek; but that the wedding clothes are making, and that, by consent of parents, all things are to be accomplished, and had been so already, but for the unfortunate death of poor Mr. Oliver, my Lady Manchester's chaplain, who slept sweetly in the Lord on Saturday night last, and has occasioned so great mourning in that family, that ombre and weddings have been forbid for a week. On the other side, my lord chamberlain has been in mortification for the loss of his poor brother, Hatton Rich, who, not making a very Christian end, has been the occasion of great grief to all his pious relations. He has bequeathed all his worldly goods to his nieces by my late lord of Warwick, and has left nothing to my Lord Mandeville and Mr. Roberts, which is much wondered at by all that know these two worthy gentlemen.-To go on with dismal stories, your ladyship must know, that one Major Cary (brother to a young maid of honour of the same name) coming in a good ship out of Holland, did not like his passage; but whether it was that he thought to swim sooner ashore, or that he was in love with some seanymph, he took his career from the side of the ship, and leapt into the sea very frankly, though with the same usage others find upon that element, for we hear no more of him; and it is shrewdly suspected Neptune has put him into Bedlam, in his kingdom, since we were so unkind as not to do so much for him here. The expedition of Wild Street, I am sure, is too famous not to have reached you long since. There are very few more steps yet made into the discovery of it; but, I doubt not, he that revenges murder will shortly bring all to light, and them to condign punishment who have had their hands in the blood of the innocent. My Lady Northumberland is grown so flippant since her adventure at court (of which she has already informed your ladyship), that now she trips it every day in St. James's Park, meets the person you wot of, and ogles and curtsies do pass at that rate, that her friends, knowing not what to make of it, only pray that her honour may be safe. Now comes the difficult matter-to know from whom this letter comes: that is to be a secret, only it is one that kisses Lady Vaughan's hands, and Mr. Russell's, and will come himself and let them know. In the mean time they may guess as they please, but shall have no more light from me, but that the two first letters are H. S. |