in Charles's time would have shrunk
in dismay and disgust. Table-turning, spirit-rapping, _clairvoyance_,
Swedenborgianism, and all that family of follies, would have been far
too strong for the faith of those who counted upon dreams as their
guide, or looked up to the heavenly planets with a belief, partly
superstitious, partly reverential, for their guidance; and in a dim and
flickering faith trusted to their _stars_.
'Dr. Bendo,' therefore, as Rochester was called--handsome, witty,
unscrupulous, and perfectly acquainted with the then small circle of the
court--was soon noted for his wonderful revelations. Chamber-women,
waiting-maids, and shop-girls were his first customers: but, very soon,
gay spinsters from the court came in their hoods and masks to ascertain
with anxious faces, their fortunes; whilst the cunning, sarcastic 'Dr.
Bendo,' noted in his diary all the intrigues which were confided to him
by these lovely clients. La Belle Jennings, the sister of Sarah Duchess
of Marlborough, was among his disciples; she took with her the beautiful
Miss Price, and, disguising themselves as orange girls, these young
ladies set off in a hackney-coach to visit Dr. Bendo; but when within
half a street of the supposed fortune-teller's, were prevented by the
interruption of a dissolute courtier named Brounker.
'Everything by turns and nothing long.' When Lord Rochester was tired of
being an astrologer, he used to roam about the streets as a beggar; then
he kept a footman who knew the Court well, and used to dress him up in a
red coat, supply him with a musket, like a sentinel, and send him to
watch at the doors of all the fine ladies, to find out their goings on:
afterwards, Lord Rochester would retire to the country, and write libels
on these fair victims, and, one day, offered to present the king with
one of his lampoons; but being tipsy, gave Charles, instead, one written
upon himself.
At this juncture we read with sorrow Bishop Burnet's forcible
description of his career:--
'He seems to have freed himself from all impressions of virtue or
religion, of honour or good nature.... He had but one maxim, to which he
adhered firmly, that he has to do everything, and deny himself in
nothing that might maintain his greatness. He was unhappily made for
drunkenness, for he had drunk all his friends dead, and was able to
subdue two or three sets of drunkards one after another; so it scarce
ever appeared that he was disordered
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