523. Robert Southey to Thomas
Southey, 8–9 May 1800
*
Lisbon. Thursday. May 8. 1800.
[Southey inserts a floor-plan of his residence in Lisbon]
This Tom is the plan of our house, the ground floor which belongs wholly to the
servants, is exactly the same, & this is the plan of Portugueze building. 1
& 5 are the bed rooms – for seperate beds are necessary in this climate. by
removing the folding doors 2 & 3 are made into one room, in length 18 of my feet, in breadth 6½ only. In the great room we dine
& receive company. the house was built for two families & there is a
kitchen on each floor. 1 was designed to serve that purpose & the fire place
is marked in it. but it is a Portugueze fire<place> the hearth stone, 3
feet from the ground, so that the cook may stand at his work – for they know not
the use of grates: an earthern pan furnishes a Portugueze kitchen. in this they
stew every thing, or fry it in oil. Now for the ornamental part. our great room
has four doors, two windows & two balconies. the walls are simply white
limed. do not however suspect us of too plain an appearance. around the top
& the middle of the walls runs a broad board painted like marble veined with
blue. Each doors has a pilaster <wood>
framing of green veined marble, with the base streaked red. purple marbled tiles
go round the bottom. the cielings is a floor of
wood, painted white & edged with flesh colour. the windowshutters &
balcony doors are green. the other doors have yellow pannels in mahogany
coloured frames. <the window frames mahogany coloured> our carpet is a
zigzag [Southey inserts sketch of the pattern] thunder & lightning pattern
of all the rainbow colours. the balconies have also glass doors. the huge stone
which forms the standing place is rough as the paving by Northumberland house in
the Strand, & enters some foot into the room, a notch is cut across it &
a hole made thro, so that this serves as a sink to carry away what rain enters.
The locks & latches are coarse beyond your conception. under every window
frame <& round it> is a stone three inches broad, its surface rough
from the stone cutters chissel. the window frames are fastened with screws
broader than a halfcrown on their leads. the glass in every window is floored
with bricks.
The garret is one room over all so propped up with crooked sticks
that it would be difficult to lay a bed either length-breadth or athwart-ways.
this propping is a fine specimen of Portuguese building. the ends of the poles
are let into rude holes cut in the floor – & some that were not long enough
for this, nor smooth enough to rest upon the ground, have another uncouth stick
stuck under them – as we steady a table in England on an uneven floor. there are
pigeon holes to admit light & air like a church tower <tower> – windows no bigger than church-pigeon holes –
& three large windows thus [Southey inserts illustration] so contrived that
if you open the shutters of the middle one, one of the sides must remain shut,
& if you open the sides you fasten the middle. The roofing is like all other
houses here – the tiles are shaped thus [Southey inserts U shaped sketch], they
therefore lay on one row in that direction [Southey inserts illustration] –
& then lest the rain should enter, cover it with a row reversed, [Southey
inserts illustration]. thus doubly loading the roof.
The bedsteads instead of sacking have planks – a better thing as
it does not harbour vermin. the woods here are exceedingly beautiful, they come
from Brazil & are many of them handsomer than mahogany. <sets of
specimens are often sold made like little books, & lettered each with its
name.> The Portugueze perfume their houses by burning sugar or lavender –
you frxx a whiff of this incense often
surprizes me in the middle of a stink as I walk the streets.
The English when strangers here are so suspicious of the natives
as to be very rash in misinterpreting them. A young man whom I knew, fired at
the watch one night, when they accosted him. the ball passed thro the watchmans
hat. he was seized & confined, & it required interest & money to
excuse him, for what was inexcusable. My Uncle walking one night with a midshipman was stopt by persons
bearing a young man who had been run thro the body by a Lieutenant. they had
stopt him seeing his companions uniform, but knowing my Uncle suffered him to pass,
after telling the circumstance. The Lieutenant was drunk. the young man was a
gentleman who seeing him staggering about the streets, took him by the arm to
lead him home. the Englishman did not understand what he said, & run him
thro.
As yet we have not done received
all our visits of ceremony. we are going the first night we are at liberty, to
the Portugueze play. The court have shown a strange caprice about the opera.
they permitted them to have a few female singers, & the proprietors of the
opera sent to Italy for more & better ones. they came – no! they would not
license any more – the present people women
might act – but not the new comers. you must not expect me to give you any
reason for this inconsistency – tis the sheer whim of authority. but an odd
reason was assigned for permitting two who still act. one – because she is very
religious. The other We x xx because she is
Portugueze & of a certain age.
On Sunday a princess was christened. [1] in the evening
the guns fired – a signal for all persons to illuminate. it was a pleasing sight
from our window, the town all starred – & the moving lights of the shipping.
at ten a second discharge gave notice that we might put out our candles. But the
river seen by moonlight from hence is a far finer spectacle than art can make.
it lies like a plain of light under the heaven – the trees & houses, now
forming a dark & distinct foreground, & now undistinguishable in shades,
as the moon moves on her way <Almada stretching its black isthmus into the
waters, that shine like midnight snow.>. we [MS torn] enough when it blows,
to see the rush of foam behind the boats. – A magnificent equipage passed our
window on Monday. it was a nobleman, either going to be married, or to court.
[MS obscured] carriage was drawn by four horses, each covered with a white
netting & crested with white plumes. they were very restive – indeed but
half broke in. I had seen them breaking them in before, & on these occasions
they always fill the carriage with servants to make it heavy – so that their
necks also run a chance of being broken in. it was like the pomp of romance. –
They bury in covered buildings that adjoin the church. the graves are built in
divisions – like a tanners pits. you may perhaps remember such at Bristol, at
St Pauls, [2] which I saw building. quick lime is thrown in with every body
which of course is soon consumed. still the bones accumulate, & occasionally
these places are cleaned out. burying is every where miserably managed. that
superstition should once induce the desire to be interred in consecrated ground
was natural. the Church being Gods fort, the Devil would not come immediately
under its bell-guns, the sound of a church bell being more
formidable to Beelzebub than cannon-balls to sailors. but now, when that folly
is extinct, that the dead should all be huddled together in xxx nar[MS obscured] places, of which all the
soil is human matter, where they must taint the a[MS obscured] must be disturbed
– in all probability are half rotten – this is a beastly adherence to custom
which disgraces an enlightened country. – They have a singular mode of fishing
at Costa, a sort of wigwam village in the sands south of the bar. the gang of
fishermen to each net is about fifty all paid & fed by the Captain
regularly, not according to their success. half hold one end of a rope – the
other is carried off in the boat. the rope is about half a mile in leng[MS
obscured by binding] the net in the middle. a high surf breaks on the shore. the
men there thrust off the boat, themselves breast deep & stooping under every
wave that meets them. the others row round to shore, & then they all haul
in. – this place is about nine miles only from Lisbon, yet criminals run away
there & are safe. sometimes a Magistrate goes down, but they always know
that he is coming & away to the woods for the day. it is common to go there
from town & dine upon the sands. the people are civil & inoffensive,
indeed generally so over Portugal except among the boatmen, who have enough
intercourse with foreigners to catch all their vices.
Lord Somerville [3] went by the last
packet. I did not see him – he would have called one evening but my Uncle knowing him pressed for
time beg[MS obscured by binding] him to waive the ceremony. I have been very
industrious & continue so. rise early, & never waste a minute – if I am
at home without visitors – from book to book – & change is more relief than
idleness. the American Minister [4] called on me after supper on Tuesday. this was somewhat
familiar – & I apprehend was meant as civility. Ediths love. God bless you.
R.S.
Friday. May 9. 1800.
