July. 1816.
l:
Aspinwall, and Journalized upon the 13th: of last Month— Mrs
Adams, went with our Sons John and Charles,
to fish in the Paddington Canal. I was writing until past six O’Clock,
and then walked as far as Ealing Church— In the lane just beyond
General Dumouriez’s
house, I met a man with a very
wretched and squalid appearance, with a girl
of about twelve, equally miserable— He had an empty pint Bottle, in his
hand, and accosting me, asked if I could give him a little Elder Wine—
He said he was a blacksmith by trade, and had been in comfortable
circumstances and lived well— But he had been unlucky—had met with
losses; times were hard down in Staffordshire where he had lived; and he
had set out with his wife, and two children, all that survived of eleven
that he had had, to walk to London, and see if he could get some work to
do.— He had come from Stone, 160 miles from home; and when he got as far
as Brentford, his boy, a fine boy about seven
years old was taken sick—he complained his feet were sore and that he
could not go any farther— At first he thought he had overwalked the poor
boy, for they had walked as much as twenty miles a day; but he had taken
him in at Mr
Baker’s, who kept a public house at Brentford, and there
he broke out with the small-pox, and was lying with it, very bad— The
parish at Brentford had allowed him a Doctor to attend the boy—but the
Doctor gave him very poor encouragement for the poor child— He the
father had been round to every house in Brentford to see if he could get
any work, but without success— He was obliged to pay eight pence a
night, for the chamber where his boy lay, now entirely blind— He had
sold most of his own Cloaths, and the gown off of the girl’s back— The
Doctor had told him that Elder wine, would be good for the boy to keep
his lips moist, and give him some sustenance, and he had now come out to
see if he could beg any. I told him I had no elder wine, but gave him a
shilling with which he could buy some; and passed on— As I was returning
from my walk, in the lane just before my house I overtook again the same
man, with the girl— He thanked me very gratefully for what I had given
him; told me his Story over again; said he had not got any wine; but
since I saw him he had met a Lady, who had given him six pence, and told
him she would come and see the Child— I told him that I understood wine
was a very doubtful and dangerous medicine for the small-pox— But he
said the Doctor had ordered it, and said any kind of wine would do; as
it was only to keep his lips moist, and give him sustenance— I called
the man into the yard; had his bottle filled with wine; and asked his
name, which he told me was William Cook— After dinner I walked with Mrs Adams and George to Brentford, and after being directed to three
other houses of persons named Baker, we finally found that where this
poor man and his family were— We left George below as he has only passed
the process of vaccination— Mrs Adams and I
went up into the chamber, where the boy lay, covered in a fearful manner
with the small pox. The chamber was not twelve feet square, with only
one small window which was shut, and they had a fire at the foot of the
boy’s bed, to make tea for him— Mrs Adams
directed them to open the window, to have the fire put out, and to keep
the child cool, without exposing him to take cold— And she told the man
to call at our house again to-morrow— It was between nine and ten when
we came home.— By this Morning’s Post I received—A Note from Lord Castlereagh, with
information that a Bill has been brought into Parliament, for the
exportation of Machinery for the use of the Mint of the United States— A
Note of invitation to Mrs Adams and me to
Countess Lieven’s party,
last Evening— It was dated on Friday; came doubtless to the Office on
Saturday, too late to be sent out that Evening, and was thus kept until
this morning— A Letter from Mr Prince Sanders; enclosing a
Card of invitation to our Son George to dine with him next Friday; and a
Card of Mr Sanders “at Home” for Mrs Adams and me, the same Evening— In the
Letter he says he hopes we will come, as the celebrated Mrs Opie,
and Mrs
Marriat, authoress of Conversations on chemistry have
promised to be there, and he hopes to have a pleasant, and intelligent
Conversation.— By the Evening Post Letters—from Mr Maury at
Liverpool—from George Dentzel, a
petitioning sailor—and from J. A.
Smith to Mrs Adams, with
information that a box, which she has been expecting from Paris, is at
the Kings warehouse in the Customhouse—and enclosing Mr Grubb’s
Bill that I had left with him, receipted.