The first letter to the duchess from Bath is dated—
“December 15, Friday, Bath.
“Madam,
“After four days’ journey in very bad roads, I arrived here a good deal tired: if Scarron[62] had not been very facetious, my countenance had not received the impression of a smile since I left Whitehall till my arrival at Bath. I read most of the way, but was sometimes taken off ‘Le petit Ragotin’s’ disasters to fear those that might happen to la petite Fidget.[63]... morning after I arrived, I went to the Ladies’ Coffee House, where I heard of nothing but the rheumatism in the shoulder, the sciatica in the hip, and the gout in the toe. After these complaints I began to fancy myself in the Hospitals or Infirmaries; I never saw such an assembly of disorders. I dare say Gay[64] wrote his fable of the ‘Court of Death’ from this place. After drinking the waters I go to breakfast, and about 12 I drink another glass of water, and then dress for dinner; visits employ the afternoon, and we saunter away the evening in great stupidity. I think no place can be less agreeable. ‘How d’ye do?’ is all one hears in the morning, and ‘What’s trumps?’ in the afternoon. Lady Berkshire[65] did us the honour of a visit on Wednesday, and inquired much about your health. Lord Berkshire[66] is literally speaking laid by the leg, which the gout has usurped, for it has ever been a distemper of very great quality, and runs in the blood of the Howards. Mr. Howard and Mr. Tom Howard,[67] Lord Berkshire’s youngest son, are here, as are Mrs. Greville and her daughter; Lady Hereford,[68] Lady F. Shirley,[69] Lady Anne Furnese,[70] Lady Anne Finch,[71] Lady Widdrington, Miss Windsors, Miss Gage, and I should first have said the Dowager Duchess of Norfolk,[72] and Mrs. Howard, wife of Brigadier-General Howard; as for the men, except Lord Noel Somerset, they are altogether abominable; however, such as they are, I must dress for the ball, and I will add a supplement to-morrow.
“P.S.—Madam, you know the Spectator says a woman never speaks her mind but in the postscript! Last night produced nothing but some bad dancing, except Mr. Southwell,[73] who was overwhelmed with congratulatory compliments; in one day he was chose Member, made Father to a little daughter, and got a £500 prize in the lottery; he seemed in good spirits, and bowed popularly low to all his acquaintance.... I believe there is a great circulation of company, for the bells are always ringing for somebody to come, or tolling for somebody gone. There are many people I have known and seen before, but very few whom I care to see again. One person whom I like extremely, loves her husband so much better than me, that I cannot persuade her to come out. I believe your Grace has often heard me speak of Mrs. Freind,[74] who is not at all like Sir Tommy her brother. What makes me like her still better is her contempt of Matadors.[75] I do not think she ever dreamt of Spadille in her life, tho’ most people here prefer its company to their best friends.”
[62] Paul Scarron, born 1610, died 1660; French satirist. Husband of Mademoiselle D’Aubigné, afterwards Madame de Maintenon; wrote “Le Roman Comique,” etc.
[63] Her pet-name.
[64] John Gay, born 1685, died 1732; poet, etc.
[65] Catherine, daughter of J. Grahame, of Levens, Westmorland.
[66] 4th Earl of Berkshire.