May day. Thursday. Lisbon.
Here then we are thank God! alive & recovering from dreadfull
sickness. I never suffered so much at sea, & Edith was worse than I was. we
scarcely ate or slept at all. but the passage was very fine & short. five
days & a half brought us to our port; with light winds the whole of the way.
the way was not however without alarms. on Monday morning between five & six
the Captain [1] was awakened with
tidings that a Cutter [2] was bearing down upon
us, with English colours indeed, but apparently a French vessel. we made a
signal which was not answered, we fired a gun, she did the same, &
preparations were made for action. We had another Lisbon packet in company,
mounting six guns – our own force was ten, the Cutter was a match & more for
both, but we did not expect to be taken. – you may imagine Ediths terror, awakened on a sick
bed – disturbed, I should have said, with these tidings! the Captain advised me
to cov surround her with mattrasses in the
cabin, but she would not believe herself in safety there; x I lodged her in the cockpit & took my
station on the quarter deck with a musket. – how I felt I can hardly tell – the
hurry of the scene – the sight of grape shot – bar shot & the other
ingenious implements of this sort – the novelty of my fighting – made an
undistinguishable mixture of feelings. I was going to fight without any one
motive but that of taking my share in the business. my cloaths were of no
adequate value to the risk – & they were insured; & if I had had the
power choice I certainly should far rather
have entered Coruña as a prisoner than have proceeded to Lisbon – because four
hundred miles land travelling would have been infinitely pleasanter than the
continued voyage. the Cutter bore down between us – I saw the smoke from her
matches wer were so near – & not a man on
board had the least idea but than an immediate action was to take place. We
hailed her – she answered in broken English & passed on. “tis over! cried
somebody. not yet – said the Captain – & we expected she was coming round us
or about to attack our comrade vessel. She was English however, manned chiefly
from Guernsey, & this explained her frenchified language. you will easily
imagine that my sensations at thus ending the business were very definable – one
honest simple joy – that I was in a whole skin! I laid the musket in the chest
with considerably more pleasure than when I took it out. I am glad this took
place – it has shown me what it is to prepare for action.
Four years absence from Lisbon have given every thing the varnish
of novelty – & yet this with the revival of
old associations makes me pleased with every thing. my Uncle – poor Manuel [3]
too is as happy as man could <can> be to
see me once more – here he stands at breakfast & talks of his meeting us at
Villa Franca – & what we saw at this place & at that – & hopes that
wherever I go in this country he may go with me. It even amused me to renew my
acquaintance with the fleas, who opened the campaign immediately on the arrival
of a foreigner. We landed yesterday, about ten in the morning, & took
possession of our house the same night. our house is very small & thoroughly
Portuguese, little rooms all doors & windows, odd but well calculated for
coolness. from one window we have a most magnificent view over the river, Almada
Hill, & the opposite shores of Alentejo, bounded by hills about the
half-mountain height of Malvern –. the bed room is of a good size. in this
climate seperate beds are necessary. I did not know this till I saw two
prepared. – to day is a busy day – we are arranging away our things – &
seeing visitors. these visits must all be returned – then ends the ceremony –
& then I may chuse retirement. I hurry over my letters for the sake of
feeling leisure to begin my employments. the voyage by depriving me of all rest
& leaving me too giddy to sleep well, will with the help of the fleas break
me in well for early rising. the work before me is almost of terrifying labour.
folio after folio to be gutted – & the immense mass of collateral knowledge
which is indispensable. but I have leisure, & inclination – Edith who has been looking half her
time out of window, has just seen – “really a decent looking woman.” this will
show you what cattle the passers-by must be. she has found out that there are no
middle aged women here – & it is true – like their climate it is only summer
& winter. their heavy cloaks of thick woollen like horsemen coats in
England, amuse her in this weather – as much as her clear muslin would amuse
them in an English winter. but the most ridiculous thing is a substitute for a
close-stool up in the garret – it is so high that I am obliged to sit like a boy
just breeched with my feet resting upon the cross-bar between its legs. not a
drain or sink in the house! all all goes into the street –
but especial care will I take to have it laid at my neighbours door. tis a
damned Portugueze trick & xxx tis but their
due to give them the filth they oblige me to make.
Thalaba [4] will soon be finished. Rickman is my plenipotentiary with
the booksellers for this. pray send me your plays [5] – direct
them to the Revd
Herbert Hill. Chaplain to the British forces. Lisbon. to the care of
Capt Yescombe. Falmouth. Yescombe is very friendly &
will bring them cost free. my
Uncles name will carry them ashore unexamined. the inner paper may
bear my name. – I got your letter [6] at Falmouth. your fleaing Croft [7] may do good
by preventing the matter from being forgotten. for the Anthology [8] – I am willing to weigh all
your objections. here I shall have no time for trifles. Thalaba finished all my
poetry instead of being wasted in rivulets & ditches shall flow into the
great Madoc-Missisippi river. [9] I have with me your volume – Lyrical Ballads Burns &
Gebir. [10] read Gebir again – he grows upon
me.
My Uncles Library is admirably
stocked with foreign books. the collections he has of Portugueze chronicles
& books connected with that single subject could not be purchased here for
less than forty pounds. my plan is this – immediately to go thro the chronicles
in order & thus make a skeleton of the narrative. the timbers put together,
the house may be furnished at leisure. it will be a great work, & worthy of
all labour. [11] – I am interrupted momently by
visitors – like the fleas, infesting a new comer! Ediths spirits are mending – a
handfull of roses has just made her forgive the stink of Lisbon – & the
green peas, the ranges &c &c with are
reconciling her to a country for which Nature has done so much. we are
transported into your Midsummer – your most luxuriant midsummer – plague upon
that heart-stop that has reminded me that this is a voyage of prescription as
well as of pleasure, but I will get well & you must join us & return
with us over the Pyrennes – & a little of the Dream must be fullfilled! –
God bless you. write to me & some long letters – & send me your
Christobell & your Three Graves, & finish them on purpose to send
them. [12]
Ediths love – I reach a long arm
& shake hands with you across the seas.
yrs
Robert Southey.
Notes* Address: [deletions and
readdress in another hand] To/ Mr Coleridge/ <at Mr Pools>/ Stokes
Croft/ <Stowey>/ Bristol/
<Somersetshire>/ Single Stamped: LISBON Postmark: BRISTOL/ MAY
17 1800 MS: Hispanic Society of America, New York Previously
published: Charles Cuthbert Southey (ed.), Life and Correspondence of
Robert Southey, 6 vols (London, 1849–1850), II, pp. 61–65 [in
part]. BACK [1] Edward Bayntun Yescombe
(1765–1803), Captain of the Falmouth Packet. BACK [2] HMS
Endymion, a British frigate. BACK [3] Manuel Mambrino (dates unknown), a Spanish
servant from Oviedo who worked for Herbert Hill. Mambrino had accompanied
Southey on some of his travels in Spain and Portugal in 1795–1796. BACK [4]
Thalaba the
Destroyer (1801). BACK [5] Probably The Piccolomini, or the First Part of
Wallenstein, a Drama in Five Acts. Translated from the German of
Frederick Schiller by S. T. Coleridge (1800) and The
Death of Wallenstein. A Tragedy in Five Acts. Translated from the German
of Frederick Schiller by S. T. Coleridge (1800). BACK [6] Coleridge’s letter of [10] April 1800, E.L. Griggs, The Collected
Letters of Samuel Taylor Coleridge, 6 vols (Oxford, 1956–1971),
I, pp. 585–586. BACK [7] Coleridge had offered to intervene in Southey’s
public argument with Herbert Croft over Thomas Chatterton (1752–1770;
DNB), by giving Croft ‘a scourging that shall flea him’
(E.L. Griggs, The Collected Letters of Samuel Taylor
Coleridge, 6 vols (Oxford, 1956–1971), I, p. 585); see Robert
Southey to Joseph Cottle, [c. 20 April 1800], Letter 514. BACK [8] Probably the proposed, but unexecuted, third
volume of the Annual Anthology. Coleridge had contributed to
the second volume, published in 1800. BACK [9] Southey’s
Welsh-American revisionist epic Madoc was not published until
1805. BACK [10] Coleridge,
Poems (1797); Coleridge and Wordsworth, Lyrical
Ballads (1798); an unidentified edition of Robert Burns
(1759–1796; DNB); and Walter Savage Landor,
Gebir (1798). BACK [11] Southey never completed his
planned ‘History of Portugal’. BACK [12] Coleridge finished neither
‘Christabel’ (published in 1816) nor ‘The Three Graves’ (published in
1809). BACK |
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