University of Virginia Library

Partridge Redivivus

During the months when the Chancery suit against Partridge was most active, when Mr. Bickerstaff was thriving as an editorial astrologer in the Tatler with Partridge still serving as an occasional target, and when Harris was contriving an illegal substitute for the proscribed ephemeris, the Stationers themselves elected to sponsor a new almanac which would perhaps take the place of the one stopped by the action of their suit. On 15 August 1709 the Warden spent several shillings "at ye Queens head with the Master &c about ye Tatlers Almanack." Quite probably the high officers realized that the profit from Partridge's almanac was lost to them indefinitely and an anti-Partridge almanac might subtract from that loss.

The plan was to produce not a tract mocking the almanac maker but an almanac itself, written under the name of Bickerstaff and continuing to ridicule the astrologer. This plot, or at least the title of the prospective pamphlet,[27] came to the notice of the Tatler's alert distaff rival, the Female Tatler, written by "Mrs. Crackenthorp, a Lady that

knows every thing," who thus began her fiftieth issue on the last day of October 1709: The all-knowledgeable lady then offers a preface she has somehow acquired; here Bickerstaff gives his reasons for considering Partridge dead and advances his own claims to see into all secret follies. A mediocre piece not worthy the signature of the male Tatler, or the female.

A good fortnight later the proper Mr. Bickerstaff announced at the end of Tatler No. 94 that his almanac would appear on the 22nd of November and "from that Instant, all Lovers, in Raptures or Epistles, are to forbear the Comparison of their Mistresses eyes to Stars, I having made Use of that Simile in my Dedication for the last Time it shall ever pass."[28] After such an announcement, specific in date and content, we are prepared for the publication of Bickerstaff's Almanack. It did appear — and on schedule, we may presume, with the other seasonal booklets — and Steele's own prediction was fulfilled in its dedication to Urania, which obviously held no resemblance to the preface devised by Mrs. Crackenthorpe.

Have we here a new bit of frolicsome prose by Richard Steele? The allusion in the Wardens' Accounts to the "Tatlers Almanack," the warning in the Tatler against the forthcoming conceit of a mistress's eyes, and the style itself are consistent with an attribution of this dedication to the editor of the Tatler papers.

This almanac was so unPartridgean that it had no prognostications at all but monthly observations of a horticultural character. It purported to be a vindication of the stars against the false assertions of the late Partridge and other mistaken astrologers, and it contained a sizable, sensible essay on almanacs proving "That the Art of Telling Fortunes, is an Imposture upon Innocent Persons by Mock-Astrologers and Gypsies" and twice naming Partridge. In a letter of testimonial about Partridge's death a Jeremy Wagstaff accused the astrologer (wrongly) of making a mistake in his prediction of a certain phase of the moon and then resorted to Swift's quibble that "No Man alive" could commit such an error.[29] The quality of the wit in the body of Bickerstaff's Almanack scarcely competes with that of the essays by the reigning Bickerstaff.[30] But this diversion in the controversy between Partridge and the Stationers raises questions. Did the Company design the almanac merely as a financial venture or as an experimental publication or only as a gesture against their forbidden writer? Did the Company contract with Steele to introduce and puff an almanac compiled by some hack astrologer? And who wrote the rational essay on prognostications?

Among the early and inevitable imitations of the Tatler there appeared Titt for Tatt in March 1710, closely imitative in format, devices, and contents. Its writer was "Jo. Patridge, Esq.," who had not died after all but instead had "only made a Tour for Conversation

amongst the Stars." His heavenly connections enabled him to find "a dreadful Fate hang over the Principal of the Family of the Staffs." Report discovers Bickerstaff in a vault in Lincoln's Inn, and on a visit to the tomb 'Squire Patridge is told: Titt for Tatt was an amiable and able follower of the Tatler, here worth remark as making a neat turn of the tables by a fictive Partridge against his "Ingenious Brother Bickerstaff."

Meanwhile Partridge's name had also appeared over several pamphlets. In 1709 there was Mr. Patridge's Judgment and Opinion of this Frost, comparing the current visitation with the great frost of 1683. And during his rustication two twelve-page tracts for the times also exploited the fame of this prophetical Doctor with the syncopated name. The Right and True Predictions of Dr. Patridge's Prophecy For the Year 1712 gave monthly observations on affairs in general, heavenly data, and forecasts of weather, as well as facts on the quarters, eclipses, and terms, and contained two handy lists: a "Speculum" by Mrs. Dorothy Patridge "foretelling the Good and Bad Days" for love or marriage or travel or removing or business by assigning a single descriptive phrase, as "indifferent good" or "very good" or "lucky" or "dangerous," and so on, and a final section setting down the rates for hackney coaches and chairs to all parts of London. For the next year Dr. Patridge's Most Strange and Wonderful Prophecy provided similar astrological judgments, but concluded with a list of the market towns in England and the day of the week "on which each of them are kept." The shade of Partridge was becoming a help to history.

No almanac by Partridge appeared for the years 1710 to 1713, but late in 1712 the officials of the Stationers began holding conferences about him and early in 1713 about the peril of counterfeit almanacs.[31] In May the Court of the Company ordered a committee to meet with Partridge and Darby "in order to accomodate the matters in Difference." The astrologer, through a representative, insisted on £150 for a licensed almanac that year, with the allowance in succeeding years to be negotiated. The Stationers agreed to give £100 "for this yeare for his Almanack in Expectacon there will be a Considerable Sale thereof,"

and thereafter to consent to a reasonable settlement, with an umpire if necessary. Partridge accepted this compromise and thus quite probably got a larger sum than he had ever obtained before (Stationers' Court Book G: 14 May, 1 June, 7 September 1713). In the regular announcement by the Stationers of the publication of all the almanacs for 1714, Partridge's work received special note, "not having been printed these four Years last past" (Post Boy, No. 2873, 8 October 1713). The injunction was of course still in force, but if the Stationers were ready to exploit their victory and found Partridge willing to reenter the ranks of their almanac makers, no one had cause to complain or demur.

For his resumed work Partridge revived one of his old titles, Merlinus Redivivus, and again called himself "A Lover of Truth." The portion worthy of remark is a letter to Bickerstaff on the verso of the title page. This was the injured astrologer's first chance in five years to answer his adversary in an almanac, and it must be said that he responded with temperance. Perhaps his sobriety here came from a sincere forgiveness or the weakness of age, perhaps from a desire to squeeze the last bit out of popular remembrance of the affair. In his final words on the matter, nearly three years after the end of Steele's Tatler, Partridge addresses Steele through Bickerstaff and condemns Swift by name.

For the next two years Partridge's ephemeris was called merely an Almanack with no distinguishing title, and bore the motto "Melius semel quam semper." Partridge died in 1715, but his almanacs for 1716 and 1717 carried the assurance that they had been "written with the Doctor's own hand." All of these almanacs were printed for the Stationers.

The 1717 almanac took its title from Partridge's greatest success — the Merlinus Liberatus, now a completely appropriate phrase — and it held the perfect motto, "Etiam mortuus loquitur." This actually dead Partridge continued to speak for more than a century and a half, with timely alterations of method as well as material, and thus became the nearest rival to Old Moore in posthumous longevity.[32] For frequency of publication Partridge had outlived many of his more worthy critics, at least in the use of a name.[33]