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<title type="main">The Collected Letters of Robert Southey. Part 1: 1791-1797 </title>
<title type="subordinate">A Romantic Circles Electronic Edition</title>
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<name>Southey, Robert, 1774-1843</name>
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<editor>Lynda Pratt</editor>
<sponsor>Romantic Circles</sponsor>
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<name>Neil Fraistat</name>
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<resp>General Editor, </resp>
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<date>2009-03-15</date>
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<idno type="nines">rce61</idno>
<idno type="edition">letterEEd.26.61</idno>
<publisher>Romantic Circles, http://www.rc.umd.edu, University of Maryland</publisher>
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<date when="2009-02-20">March 15, 2009</date>
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<sourceDesc>
<p>Houghton Library, bMS Eng 265.1
                    (14).  Not previously published.</p>
<p>These letters were edited with the assistance of Carol Bolton, Tim Fulford and Ian Packer</p>
<p>For permission to publish the text of MSS in their possession, the editor wishes to thank the Beinecke Rare
											Books and Manuscript Library, Yale University; Berg Collection of English and American Literature, The New
											York Public Library, Astor, Lenox and Tilden Foundations; the Bodleian Library Oxford University; the
											British Library; Boston Public Library; the Syndics of Cambridge University Library; the Syndics of the
											Fitzwilliam Museum Cambridge; Haverford College, Connecticut; the Historical Society of Pennsylvania; the
											Hornby Library, Liverpool Libraries and Information Services; the Houghton Library, Harvard University;
											the John Rylands Library, Manchester; the Kenneth Spencer Research Library, University of Kansas; Luton
											Museum (Bedfordshire County Council); Massachusetts Historical Society; McGill University Library; the
											National Library of Scotland; the Newberry Library, Chicago; the New York Public Library (Pforzheimer
											Collections); the Pierpont Morgan Library, New York; the Public Record Offices of Bedford, Suffolk (Bury
											St Edmunds) and Northumberland, the Master and Fellows of Trinity College, Cambridge; the Society of
											Antiquaries of Newcastle upon Tyne; the Trustees of the William Salt Library, Stafford, the Wisbech and
											Fenland Museum; the University of Virginia Library.</p>
<p>A research grant from the British Academy made much of the archival work possible, as did support from the
											English Department of Nottingham Trent University.</p>
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<div n="61" type="letter">
<head>61. Robert Southey to <ref target="people.html#BedfordHoraceWalpole">Horace
                        Walpole Bedford</ref>, <date when="1793-10-20">20 October 1793</date>
                    [possibly started before this date]<note place="foot" resp="editors" type="headnote">Address: Horace Walpole Bedford Esqr/ New Palace Yard/
                        Westminster/ Single.<lb/>Stamped: BRISTOL<lb/>Postmark: AOC/ 22/
                        93<lb/>Seal: Red wax; design illegible<lb/>Endorsement: Recd. Oct. 22.
                        1793<lb/>MS: Houghton Library, bMS Eng 265.1
                    (14)<lb/>Unpublished.</note>
</head>
<lb/>
<lg>
<l rend="indent2">Deferor tempestas hospes quo me cunque rapit,<note n="1" place="foot" resp="editors">An adaptation of Horace (65–8 BC), <title level="m">Epistles</title>, Book 1, no. 1, line 15. The Latin
                            translates as ‘I find hospitality wherever the weather takes
                        me’.</note>
</l>
<l rend="indent2">In no other form to a rhyme could I shape it,</l>
<l rend="indent2">And tho this my dear <ref target="people.html#BedfordHoraceWalpole">Horace</ref> a very queer whim
                        will be</l>
<l rend="indent2">I must beg leave just here to insert a good simile.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent4"> Of old tis said</l>
<l rend="indent4"> Procrustes had a bed<note n="2" place="foot" resp="editors">In Greek mythology, Procrustes was a robber who placed his victims on
                            an iron bed, stretching or cutting them down until they fitted
                            it.</note>
</l>
<l rend="indent3">And a famous bed had he</l>
<l rend="indent4"> Where he used to invite</l>
<l rend="indent4"> To pass the night</l>
<l rend="indent3">Whoever he could see. </l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3">Unlucky was the wretch</l>
<l rend="indent3">Whom he resolvd to stretch</l>
<l rend="indent2">For if the man were longer than the bed</l>
<l rend="indent2">He left him shorter by the heels or head —</l>
<l rend="indent2">And if the bed was longer</l>
<l rend="indent3">Why he stretchd out</l>
<l rend="indent3">The miserable lout</l>
<l rend="indent2">As strong as <ref target="people.html#BedfordHenry">Harrys</ref> catapulta or stronger.</l>
<l rend="indent2">But Theseus<note n="3" place="foot" resp="editors">In Greek
                            mythology, a hero who killed Procrustes.</note> at last made him take to
                        his bed</l>
<l rend="indent3">Good Physician — rebukd him</l>
<l rend="indent3">Pilld him purged him, &amp; pukd him</l>
<l rend="indent2">And physickd him till he was dead.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent2">Tis a sad thing to say &amp; yet say I must this.</l>
<l rend="indent2">That I my dear <ref target="people.html#BedfordHoraceWalpole">Horace</ref> resemble Procrustes</l>
<l rend="indent2">Thus distort the old verse in each prominent feature</l>
<l rend="indent2">And cut it to fit the just shape of any metre —</l>
<l rend="indent2">So you may apply what is true for you know me</l>
<l rend="indent2">Hospes cunque rapit tempestas deferor quo me.<note n="4" place="foot" resp="editors">An adaptation of Horace, <title level="m">Epistles</title>, Book 1, no. 1, line 15. The Latin translates as
                            ‘I find hospitality wherever the weather takes me’.</note>
</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent2">This bed (a strange contrast) recalls to my mind</l>
<l rend="indent2">A most mournful scene I have just left behind.</l>
<l rend="indent2">Still still it will force on my unwilling view — </l>
<l rend="indent2">And I must relate the sad story to you.</l>
<l rend="indent2">When to <ref target="places.html#Brixton">Brixton</ref> I went
                        — as I past thro this town</l>
<l rend="indent2">And to this house like lightning ran rapidly down</l>
<l rend="indent2">I was just introduced to Miss Colbourne<note n="5" place="foot" resp="editors">Unidentified.</note> in haste</l>
<l rend="indent2">Made my congè &amp; then on my journey I past.</l>
<l rend="indent2">Such my speed I scarce lookd at the young Ladys face</l>
<l rend="indent2">And forgot here as soon as I quitted the place.</l>
<l rend="indent2">Twas even (my friend) as the sailors rude hand</l>
<l rend="indent2">Marks his mistresses name on the perishing sand</l>
<l rend="indent2">He perhaps drops the tear — &amp; goes pensively on</l>
<l rend="indent2">The high billow comes &amp; the traces are gone.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent2">I forgot her for deeply engraved on my breast</l>
<l rend="indent2">Other features their durable figure imprest,</l>
<l rend="indent2">Till when I arrivd here last Wednesday — my mind</l>
<l rend="indent2">Recurrd to the Lady I there left behind</l>
<l rend="indent2">I enquird &amp; was shockd at the mournful reply —</l>
<l rend="indent2">The poor girl fell down &amp; had broken her thigh</l>
<l rend="indent2">To the next house bore in — the Physicians not found</l>
<l rend="indent2">Cursed asses — the nature &amp; cause of the wound</l>
<l rend="indent2">A full week she lay ere the fracture was known</l>
<l rend="indent2">In the most dreadful part of that dangerous bone</l>
<l rend="indent2">Six weeks quite unable to move has she lain</l>
<l rend="indent2">And perhaps never more will she walk well again.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent2">You may guess what I felt. better fancied than said</l>
<l rend="indent2">To make short this evening I saw her in bed</l>
<l rend="indent2">Angel-like I beheld her meek mild &amp; resignd</l>
<l rend="indent2">And the sad scene is deeply imprest on my mind —</l>
<l rend="indent2">Still lovely still blooming still chearful her face</l>
<l rend="indent2">Appeard from misfortune to gather new grace</l>
<l rend="indent2">She seemd like a suffering angel below —</l>
<l rend="indent2">To teach how superior is Wisdom to Woe</l>
<l rend="indent2">And whilst my breast was full with compassion the while</l>
<l rend="indent2">She welcomd us in &amp; conversd with a smile.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent2">I returnd my eyes ready with tears to oerflow</l>
<l rend="indent2">My bosom high swoln in the fullness of woe.</l>
<l rend="indent2">In these moods no joy so delightful as grief</l>
<l rend="indent2">From Sorrow itself Sorrow finds its relief</l>
<l rend="indent2">In silence I wishd to heave past oer the night</l>
<l rend="indent2">And sit pensively down &amp; to you <ref target="people.html#BedfordHoraceWalpole">Horace</ref> write.</l>
<l rend="indent2">But Fate intervened &amp; Fate must have her way —</l>
<l rend="indent2">The card table is spread &amp; poor Southey must play
                        —</l>
<l rend="indent2">I soon lost the rubber — then gladly withdrew</l>
<l rend="indent2">Took my pen &amp; sat down to unbosom to you.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent2">Non ignarus disco miseris succurrere malo.<note n="6" place="foot" resp="editors">An adaptation of Virgil (70–19 BC), <title level="m">Aeneid</title>, Book 1, line 630. The Latin translates as
                            ‘not unacquainted with evil myself, I have learned how to help the
                            wretched’.</note>
</l>
<l rend="indent2">When this I advance I do not advance a lye.</l>
<l rend="indent2">To pour Pitys balm in Adversitys breast</l>
<l rend="indent2">To lull the sharp viper of sorrow to rest</l>
<l rend="indent2">With compassion to soften the anguish of woe</l>
<l rend="indent2">Is the best boon which Heaven on man can bestow.</l>
<l rend="indent2">But to see Beauty suffer nor render relief</l>
<l rend="indent2">Fate has not in store a more exquisite grief.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent2">I shall rhapsodize more if on this I go on</l>
<l rend="indent2">But believe me all springs from compassion alone</l>
<l rend="indent2">By Philosophy shielded my well guarded heart</l>
<l rend="indent2">I trust can repel every love pointed dart —</l>
<l rend="indent2">As the small pox no longer my terror can move</l>
<l rend="indent2">So neither I fear the invasion of Love.</l>
<l rend="indent2">Can gaze tranquil &amp; calm on each soft females
                        charms</l>
<l rend="indent2">And seek shelter from Anguish in Apathys arms.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent2">No more of <del rend="strikethrough">this</del>
                        hang-gallows-heltering theme</l>
<l rend="indent2">Ill betake me to bed &amp; look sharp for a dream.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent4"> God of dreams hear my prayer</l>
<l rend="indent4"> To my pillow repair</l>
<l rend="indent3">Indulge my petition to night</l>
<l rend="indent4"> Around my wild brain</l>
<l rend="indent4"> Send thy fanciful train</l>
<l rend="indent3">And give me a dream I may write.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent4"> Some chimeras prepare</l>
<l rend="indent4"> Some visions of air</l>
<l rend="indent3">Unshapd by Reflections dull art</l>
<l rend="indent4"> In airy state spread</l>
<l rend="indent4"> Let them float round my head</l>
<l rend="indent3">But let them not aim at my heart.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent4"> Be so kind &amp; so civil</l>
<l rend="indent4"> To present little Snivel<note n="7" place="foot" resp="editors">The Bedford family’s dog.</note>
</l>
<l rend="indent3">The far famous general Tuncq<note n="8" place="foot" resp="editors">The leader of the victorious French republican forces at
                            the battle of Luçon, 14 August 1793.</note>
</l>
<l rend="indent4"> Or with ghosts &amp; with goblins</l>
<l rend="indent4"> When my wits are all hobling</l>
<l rend="indent3">Put my frame in a terrible funk.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3">God of slumbers hear my prayer</l>
<l rend="indent3">Round my sleeping head repair</l>
<l rend="indent3">Oer my vacant brain diffuse,</l>
<l rend="indent3">Thy lethean poppy dews</l>
<l rend="indent3">Come with all thy shadowy train</l>
<l rend="indent3">Revel oer thy victims brain.</l>
<l rend="indent3">Tho by the haggard night mare prest</l>
<l rend="indent3">Vainly heaves my panting breast —</l>
<l rend="indent3">When madness rules the midnight hour</l>
<l rend="indent3">Tho then presides the witches power</l>
<l rend="indent3">To load my breast with vapours chill</l>
<l rend="indent3">And bid the freezing blood stand still</l>
<l rend="indent3">Whilst Horror triumphs oer my brain</l>
<l rend="indent3">God of dreams I ask thy reign.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3">Lead me lead me Fancy’s child</l>
<l rend="indent3">Oer woods &amp; mountains wandering wild</l>
<l rend="indent3">Lead me thro the gloomy glade</l>
<l rend="indent3">Pathless glen &amp; desart shade</l>
<l rend="indent3">Let me in midnight forest hear</l>
<l rend="indent3">The gaunt wolfs howling rend my ear</l>
<l rend="indent3">And seek to shun the savage foe</l>
<l rend="indent3">Whilst my limbs forget to go.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3">Or bid thy sprightly phantoms rare</l>
<l rend="indent3">Round my sleeping head repair.</l>
<l rend="indent3">Let me see in church yard gloom</l>
<l rend="indent3">The ghost slow rising from the tomb</l>
<l rend="indent3">Slow &amp; stern his pale hand wave</l>
<l rend="indent3">And bid me follow to the grave.</l>
<l rend="indent3">Or from the rude rocks mighty height</l>
<l rend="indent3">Seize &amp; plunge to endless night.</l>
<l rend="indent3">Or lead me, to withdraw uneath</l>
<l rend="indent3">To the dull abode of Death</l>
<l rend="indent3">Where rangd in mouldering order lay</l>
<l rend="indent3">The monumental sons of clay.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3">Such visions Genius round my head</l>
<l rend="indent3">In stern array I bid thee spread —</l>
<l rend="indent3">I ask each horror wild &amp; wood</l>
<l rend="indent3">That chills with fear the palsied blood.</l>
<l rend="indent3">Strike<del rend="strikethrough">s</del> on those strings that
                        jar my soul</l>
<l rend="indent3">And every shrinking nerve controul</l>
<l rend="indent3">Freeze me with terror — but forbear</l>
<l rend="indent3">Those softer scenes that nurse despair</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent2">Vain vain my petition the God heard my prayer</l>
<l rend="indent2">And dispersd it unnoted ungranted to air.</l>
<l rend="indent2">Tis true round my head float the forms of the night</l>
<l rend="indent2">Unconnected &amp; wild they but troubled my sprite.</l>
<l rend="indent2">I saw you &amp; <ref target="people.html#BedfordGrosvenorCharles">Grosvenor</ref> &amp;
                            <ref target="people.html#BedfordHenry">Harry</ref> &amp; <ref target="people.html#DeaconKate">Kate</ref>
</l>
<l rend="indent2">In scenes rude &amp; senseless too strange to relate —</l>
<l rend="indent2">Wakd quite sorry that Sleep would not aid my epistle</l>
<l rend="indent2">Eat my breakfast &amp; hurried away here to Bristol.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent2">Need I say that friend <ref target="people.html#WeeksShadrach">Shad</ref> when at last I reachd home</l>
<l rend="indent2">Was exceedingly glad Mr Robert was come —</l>
<l rend="indent2">Phillis<note n="9" place="foot" resp="editors">Southey’s
                            spaniel.</note> ran to the door — &amp; stood shaking her tail</l>
<l rend="indent2">And <ref target="people.html#SoutheyEdward">Ned</ref> ran
                        downstairs to bid Robert all hail.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent2">How they lookd at my bott &amp; agreed every one</l>
<l rend="indent2">That I seemd very well &amp; was very much grown.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent2">As a magpye returnd from her food seeking flight</l>
<l rend="indent2">Flies in haste to observe if her eggs are all right</l>
<l rend="indent2">Sends her spouse what provisions <del rend="strikethrough">he</del> near him to catch</l>
<l rend="indent2">Squats down on the eggs &amp; expects them to hatch.</l>
<l rend="indent2">Like this magpye this chattering vain noisy bird I —</l>
<l rend="indent2">To the eggs in my great desk impatiently fly</l>
<l rend="indent2">What will soon be young chickens in one place I lay</l>
<l rend="indent2">And burn what are addled or fling them away.</l>
<l rend="indent2">But first Sans Culottes was laid safe on the shelf</l>
<l rend="indent2">By the side of that far famous leveller Myself.</l>
<l rend="indent2">I lockd up my desk &amp; fled quickly down stair</l>
<l rend="indent2">Then with <ref target="people.html#WeeksShadrach">Shad</ref>
                        to my theatre up I repair</l>
<l rend="indent2">Saw the scenes put in order each part in its place</l>
<l rend="indent2">Then sat down to dinner without saying grace</l>
<l rend="indent2">Made a hearty good meal off each excellent dish</l>
<l rend="indent2">Eat like a young tyger &amp; drank like a fish.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent2">Night came — as old Custom &amp; Appetite please</l>
<l rend="indent2">I devourd thirteen inches of good toasted cheese</l>
<l rend="indent2">By no means proportioned my morsel of bread</l>
<l rend="indent2">Then glad of repose I retird to my bed.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent2">So Saturday past this morn I arose</l>
<l rend="indent2">From fantastical visions &amp; put on my cloaths</l>
<l rend="indent2">To church our good folks go directly to pray</l>
<l rend="indent2">Whilst at home I &amp; <ref target="people.html#SoutheyEdward">Edward</ref> more wickedly stay</l>
<l rend="indent2">He remaind unto me his days lesson to do</l>
<l rend="indent2">And I my dear <ref target="people.html#BedfordHoraceWalpole">Horace</ref> to scribble to you.</l>
<l rend="indent2">And perhaps you, this notion will Southey, confirm in</l>
<l rend="indent2">I was better employd than in sleeping at sermon —</l>
<l rend="indent2">At the dull heavy dogma that tediously flows</l>
<l rend="indent2">Thro the filth filld foul kennel of orthodox nose.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent2">Here I am then at home. but how long here to stay</l>
<l rend="indent2">Is more than just now I can venture to say —</l>
<l rend="indent2">So now to amuse &amp; inform you I’ll try</l>
<l rend="indent2">To explain in what manner the dull moments fly</l>
<l rend="indent2">One while I the paper my humours express on</l>
<l rend="indent2">Then read &amp; then hear my friend <ref target="people.html#SoutheyEdward">Edward</ref> his lesson.</l>
<l rend="indent2">When evening comes on &amp; the brew house is dark</l>
<l rend="indent2">Hear Phillis at watch give the sentinel bark.</l>
<l rend="indent2">Run away when <ref target="people.html#WeeksShadrach">Shad</ref> calls like a couple of cats</l>
<l rend="indent2">And hero-like slaughter the rabble of rats</l>
<l rend="indent2">Watch with anxious desire when the post enters Bristol</l>
<l rend="indent2">And read twenty times each delighting epistle</l>
<l rend="indent2">Thus I draw read &amp; write &amp; take care to keep
                        warm house</l>
<l rend="indent2">Eat like a young lion &amp; sleep like a dormouse</l>
<l rend="indent2">And hear hear ye at <ref target="places.html#Brixton">Brixton</ref> &amp; envy me then</l>
<l rend="indent2">I am always in bed eer the college strikes ten.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent2">To all <ref target="people.html#Bedfordfamily">your good
                            family</ref> make my respect</l>
<l rend="indent2">And do not to write very shortly neglect.</l>
<l rend="indent2">Love &amp;c &amp;c to all friends relate</l>
<l rend="indent2">And be sure you remember Drawcansir<note n="10" place="foot" resp="editors">A character in George Villiers, 2nd Duke of Buckingham
                            (1628–1687; <title level="m">DNB</title>), <title level="m">The
                                Rehearsal</title> (1672) and also a pseudonym adopted by Henry
                            Fielding (1707–1754; <title level="m">DNB</title>).</note> to <ref target="people.html#DeaconKate">Kate</ref>.</l>
</lg>
<p>There my dear friend — if there is not rhyme enough for you God forgive your
                    insatiable avarice; it is now seven o clock on Sunday night. October 20th 1793.
                    I left <ref target="places.html#Brixton">Brixton</ref> on Tuesday morning last —
                    peregrinated till Wednesday night — played a rubber on Thursday — read Sir
                    Launcelot Greaves<note n="11" place="foot" resp="editors">Tobias Smollett
                        (1721–1771; <title level="m">DNB</title>), <title>The Adventures of Sir
                            Lancelot Greaves</title> (1762).</note> — playd again on Friday — reachd
                    Bristol on Saturday — &amp; during this interval have I written to your
                    brother &amp; all this rhyme to your Doctorial dignity — in the mean time
                    neither you nor <ref target="people.html#BedfordGrosvenorCharles">Grosvenor</ref> have laid pen to paper. this letter has no curious incident
                    to fill it such as Snivels cough or the wasps nest — had I been here during the
                    riots you should have had a very tragical account &amp; perhaps would have
                    been favoured at the assizes with the last dying speech &amp; confession
                    birth parentage &amp; education of the notorious RS who was hung for being
                    engaged in the riots.<note n="12" place="foot" resp="editors">The Bristol Bridge
                        Riot of September 1793.</note> but my hour not being yet arrived I was
                    peacefully employd at <ref target="places.html#Brixton">Brixton</ref> &amp;
                    scaped hanging for the present. peace is at last restored — we are still however
                    well watchd by the military — the horse parade in martial array &amp; we
                    have all the appearance of war. Bristol has indeed experienced some of the
                    miseries of war — when the soldiers fird — so ill were their pieces directed —
                    that only two who fell were rioters — the remainder were spectators &amp;
                    one a woman. our walls are white with denunciations of vengeance — no murders no
                    blood hounds — Damn Ld Bateman<note n="13" place="foot" resp="editors">John
                        Bateman, 2nd Viscount Bateman (d. 1802), politician. He was commander of the
                        Hertfordshire Militia, which was based in Bristol at the time of the Bridge
                        Riot. His troops fired on the crowd, resulting in the deaths of 11
                        civilians.</note> — &amp; — Daunbeny<note n="14" place="foot" resp="editors">George Daubeny (dates unknown), a Bristol Alderman who, in
                        September 1793, read the Riot Act to the assembled crowd during the Bristol
                        Bridge Riot.</note> dies — are written upon every watch box &amp; corner
                    . it is melancholy to reflect that all these lives are lost thro the imprudence
                    of the commissioners in taking off the toll &amp; then imposing it again.
                    the people have however carried their point — but should they attempt to punish
                    the rioters in gaol I think consequences still more serious will ensue. so much
                    of the riots. my journey was little productive of incident — I am not made for
                    solitude &amp; the road which in company would have appeard short — soon
                    fatigued me. my pilgrimage to Dunnington was pleasant. I walkd twenty miles only
                    breaking my fast with one small biscuit &amp; some blackberries &amp;
                    without resting — then threw myself on the bank &amp; contemplated the walls
                    where Chaucer<note n="15" place="foot" resp="editors">Geoffrey Chaucer (<hi rend="ital">c</hi>. 1340–1400; <title level="m">DNB</title>), poet and
                        administrator. Dunnington Castle, near Newbury, was reputed to have once
                        belonged to the Chaucer family. An oak in the park was known as ‘Chaucer’s
                        Oak’.</note> wore out the evening of his days — I lookd for his oak but it
                    existed not — the traces of foundations are still visible — the whole fabric
                    indeed sufferd more from the the civil war than from Time. you may easily
                    imagine with what vehemence I devourd my dinner at Newbury. by the by mine was
                    like to be a painful pilgrimage for I felt something not unlike a pea in my shoe
                    — upon examination one of the wooden pegs was perforating the small part of my
                    foot — the Sans Culottes removed the obstruction.</p>
<p rend="indent1"> my eyes smart much but I am unwilling to leave off so very near
                    the end — you will write soon I hope &amp; send the plan of the 8th book — I
                    wait for my baggage to begin — in the mean time I have plenty of employment. the
                    history of the theatre — <ref target="people.html#WeeksShadrach">Shad</ref>
                    &amp; Southey managers you do not yet know — perhaps my next may give you
                    the account — Peroonte Sir Bertrand<note n="16" place="foot" resp="editors">‘On
                        the Pleasure Derived From Objects of Terror; with Sir Bertrand, a Fragment’
                        in John Aikin (1747–1822; <title level="m">DNB</title>) and Anna Letitia
                        Aikin (1743–1825; <title level="m">DNB</title>), <title level="m">Miscellaneous Pieces in Prose and Verse</title> (London, 1773), pp.
                        117–137.</note> &amp;c &amp;c. we shall kill a few rats by that time
                    &amp; perhaps other incidents may occur to make a good letter — this must
                    however be deserved by you. the prospect of my toasted cheese at nine keeps my
                    eyes open. tell <ref target="people.html#BedfordGrosvenorCharles">your
                        brother</ref> he must write soon &amp; make my respects to all <ref target="people.html#Bedfordfamily">your good family</ref>
</p>
<closer>
<salute rend="indent2">yrs sincerely.</salute>
<signed rend="indent3">RS.</signed>
</closer>
</div>
</body>
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