mond a joke of Swift's regarding the
matter. Nay, more, this Irishman, when St. John was about to pardon
a poor wretch condemned to death for rape, absolutely prevented the
Secretary from exercising this act of good-nature, and boasted that he
had had the man hanged; and great as the Doctor's genius might be, and
splendid his ability, Esmond for one would affect no love for him, and
never desired to make his acquaintance. The Doctor was at Court every
Sunday assiduously enough, a place the Colonel frequented but rarely,
though he had a great inducement to go there in the person of a fair
maid of honor of her Majesty's; and the airs and patronage Mr.
Swift gave himself, forgetting gentlemen of his country whom he knew
perfectly, his loud talk at once insolent and servile, nay, perhaps his
very intimacy with Lord Treasurer and the Secretary, who indulged all
his freaks and called him Jonathan, you may be sure, were remarked by
many a person of whom the proud priest himself took no note, during that
time of his vanity and triumph.

'Twas but three days after the 15th of November, 1712 (Esmond minds him
well of the date), that he went by invitation to dine with his General,
the foot of whose table he used to take on these festive occasions, as
he had done at many a board, hard and plentiful, during the campaign.
This was a great feast, and of the latter sort; the honest old gentleman
loved to treat his friends splendidly: his Grace of Ormonde, before he
joined his army as generalissimo, my Lord Viscount Bolingbroke, one of
her Majesty's Secretaries of State, my Lord Orkney, that had served
with us abroad, being of the party. His Grace of Hamilton, Master of
the Ordnance, and in whose honor the feast had been given, upon his
approaching departure as Ambassador to Paris, had sent an excuse to
General Webb at two o'clock, but an hour before the dinner: nothing but
the most immediate business, his Grace said, should have prevented him
having the pleasure of drinking a parting glass to the health of General
Webb. His absence disappointed Esmond's old chief, who suffered much
from his wounds besides; and though the company was grand, it was rather
gloomy. St. John came last, and brought a friend with him: "I'm sure,"
says my General, bowing very politely, "my table hath always a place for
Dr. Swift."

Mr. Esmond went up to the Doctor with a bow and a smile:--"I gave Dr.
Swift's message," says he, "to the printer: I hope he broug