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<title type="main">The Collected Letters of Robert Southey. Part 2: 1798-1803 </title>
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<name>Southey, Robert, 1774-1843</name>
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<sponsor>Romantic Circles</sponsor>
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<p>.  Previously  published:
                        Adolfo Cabral (ed.), Robert Southey: Journals of
                            a Residence in Portugal 1800–1801 and a Visit to
                            France 1838 (Oxford, 1960), pp.
                        83–86.</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="518" type="letter">
<head>518. Robert Southey to <ref target="people.html#DanversCharles">Charles
                        Danvers</ref>, <date when="1800-05-02">2 May
                        1800</date>
<note place="foot" resp="editors" type="headnote">Address: To/ M<hi rend="sup">r</hi>
                        Danvers/ 9 S<hi rend="sup">t</hi> James’s Place/
                        Kingsdown/ Bristol/ Single <lb/>Stamped: LISBON<lb/>MS:
                        British Library, Add MS 30928<lb/>Previously published:
                        Adolfo Cabral (ed.), <title>Robert Southey: Journals of
                            a Residence in Portugal 1800–1801 and a Visit to
                            France 1838</title> (Oxford, 1960), pp.
                        83–86.</note>
</head>
<opener>
<dateline rend="right">
<date when="1800-05-02">Friday. May 2. 1800.</date>
<address>
<placeName> Lisbon.</placeName>
</address>
</dateline>
<salute>My dear Danvers</salute>
</opener>
<p rend="indent1"> Here then we are. our safe &amp; speedy
                    passage &amp; the alarms which we endured on the way I have
                    detailed to <ref target="people.html#SoutheyMargaret">my
                        Mother</ref> who will show you the letter &amp; spare me
                    the needless tedium of telling the same tale again. – I have
                    seen D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Pitcairn<note n="1" place="foot" resp="editors">David Pitcairn (1749–1809;
                            <title>DNB</title>), a London doctor who had gone to
                        Portugal for his health.</note> this morning. he is a
                    very pleasant intelligent man. I told him my case – he
                    agreed in opinion with me &amp; with others – thought me
                    perfectly right in leaving England, as a total change of
                    scene &amp; associations was the only cure, &amp; did not
                    doubt that this country would quite restore me, provided I
                    would allow it time &amp; be in no hurry to return. this
                    will suit my inclination as well as health. I am to drink
                    wine, exercise myself much, take laudanum by &lt;my&gt; own
                    discretion, &amp; pass the summer at <ref target="places.html#Cintra">Cintra</ref>. Pitcairn
                    conversed with me a long time, &amp; I found him a clever,
                    liberal man. he regretted his speedy departure as it would
                    have given him much pleasure to have cultivated my
                    acquaintance. I was instructed not to offer him a fee.</p>
<p rend="indent1">
<ref target="people.html#SoutheyMargaret">My Mother</ref>
                    will tell you how we are settled. our woman servant comes
                    this evening. I have not yet seen her. – she has been here,
                    Maria Rosa, so fine! green satin sleeves – pink satin
                    &lt;jacket&gt; body – powder – muslin petticoat – withall a
                    good looking girl who has lived five years in one place. she
                    is to do every thing except cooking – &amp; that when
                        Manuel<note n="2" place="foot" resp="editors">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.</note> is out of the way. her wages four
                    moidores a year. the moidore is 27 shillings – or nearer 30
                    according to the present rate of exchange. she is above the
                    common run of servants – to use her own phrase, she is not
                    “one of those people who sleep upon a straw mattress” –
                    &amp; so she has a flock one. thus then our domestic
                    arrangements are made.</p>
<p rend="indent1"> I have drawn the plan of our apartments in
                        <ref target="people.html#SoutheyMargaret">my
                        Mothers</ref> letters. we live in three little rooms,
                    communicating with each other by double doors till this
                    morning when I carried away the gates of Gaza.<note n="3" place="foot" resp="editors">
<title>Judges</title> 14–16;
                        Samson ripped out and carried off the gates of the
                        Philistine city of Gaza.</note> We inherit on Monday
                    much of D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Pitcairns furniture &amp;
                    conveniences – who goes in the next packet. this windfall,
                    with the help of the carpenter who is to make me some
                    swinging bookshelves, will tolerably set us up.</p>
<p rend="indent1"> A mail coach has been lately established to
                    Coimbra – 130 miles on the Porto road, to which place it is
                    to run when the road is compleated. yes, a Mail Coach that
                    goes eight miles an hour, – drawn by mules. <ref target="people.html#HillHerbertUncle">my Uncle</ref> has
                    been in it – it is a royal business &amp; will fail from ill
                    management. it is priced too high – <del rend="strikethrough">as</del> the fare &amp;c for a
                    single person amounting to as much as his expences in a
                    chaise by himself. now this excludes the main body of
                    travellers – the inferiour tradesman, those who now travel
                    on mules or horses. – Paper money also is introduced here –
                    a bad &amp; clumsy business which I do not understand enough
                    as yet to explain. all I know is this – that the government
                    set the example of discounting it – &amp; that about a
                    fortnight since they paid their sailors in it <hi rend="ital">at par</hi>. these men on exchanging the
                    paper found themselves twenty per cent losers, &amp; in
                    consequence a slight riot ensued &amp; they cried out
                    Liberty &amp; Bonaparte! this was soon quelled &amp; the
                    ringleaders secured. they have not however been punished.
                    This paper currency has brought forth its usual child –
                    forgery. a German of some respectability &amp; talents, has
                    been or will be executed for it, in England.<note n="4" place="foot" resp="editors">Unidentified.</note>
</p>
<p rend="indent1">
<ref target="people.html#DanversCharles">Danvers</ref> my
                    meat, my wax candles – my fuel, my bread come from the
                    public purse of England. <ref target="people.html#HillHerbertUncle">my Uncles</ref>
                    ratio is very large, &amp; I am very conscientiously taking
                    my share of the loaves &amp; fishes, – eating out my <del rend="strikethrough">last</del> income tax, &amp; a
                    little of my friends. – the country here is delightful –
                    such a sky! every thing in full leaf! – but the green peas
                    are nearly over. – Our visitors are many of them pleasant –
                    the women I mean – their manners are easy &amp; of that
                    frankness that invites familiarity even from a reserved
                    stranger. <ref target="people.html#FrickerEdith">Edith</ref>
                    mends in spirits already.</p>
<p rend="indent1"> I paid my visits this morning to the
                        Envoy<note n="5" place="foot" resp="editors">Robert
                        Walpole (1736–1810), Envoy Extraordinary and Minister
                        Plenipotentiary to Portugal 1772–1800.</note> &amp; the
                        Consul<note n="6" place="foot" resp="editors">Charles
                        Arbuthnot (1767–1850; <title>DNB</title>), Consul and
                        Charge d’Affaires in Portugal 1800–1801. Educated at
                        Westminster School 1779–1784; a career diplomat, later a
                        government Minister and confidante of the Duke of
                        Wellington.</note> whom I saw. to the Commissary<note n="7" place="foot" resp="editors">The Commissary’s name
                        was Warden (first name and dates unknown).</note> who
                    came to me last night, &amp; who got my things on shore,
                    &amp; whose wife is a very nice woman – to the Commander in
                        Chief<note n="8" place="foot" resp="editors">Simon
                        Fraser (1738–1813; <title>DNB</title>), Major-General in
                        command of British forces in Portugal 1797–1800.</note>
                    – &amp; Lord Somerville<note n="9" place="foot" resp="editors">John Southey Somerville, 15th Lord
                        Somerville (1765–1819; <title>DNB</title>),
                        agriculturist and distant relative of Southey.</note>
                    who claims relationship with me here, where he finds I am
                    known. I have yet to call on the new American minister.<note n="10" place="foot" resp="editors">William Loughton
                        Smith (1758–1812), resident Minister of the USA in
                        Lisbon 1798–1801.</note> We shall avoid all parties,
                    &amp; only visit a few families in a family way. Ten days
                    will finish these ceremonials of <del rend="strikethrough">seeing xxx</del> receiving &amp; returning visits –
                    then I am at <del rend="strikethrough">p</del>leisure –
                    &amp; at work. I rise at five. this time has been employed
                    in letter writing – a business laborious from the multitude
                    which I cannot but write at first. Sunday the packet sails
                    &amp; I shall breathe a little. I will write by the next to
                        <ref target="people.html#DavyHumphry">Davy</ref> – tell
                    him so &amp; remember me to him – tell him I remember him
                    with the earnestness which <del rend="strikethrough">he</del> a man feels in a foreign country when he
                    thinks of a friend at home. if he would but knock space as
                    well as matter out of the Universe, we might meet now.</p>
<p rend="indent1"> In the midst of my sickness I thought of
                    Thalaba &amp; quo[MS torn] plan. it will now soon be
                        finished.<note n="11" place="foot" resp="editors">The
                        Islamic romance <title>Thalaba the Destroyer</title> was
                        published in 1801.</note> my time [MS torn] be regularly
                    allotted out, &amp; you will I trust see me return richly
                    laden. the prospect of a <ref target="places.html#Cintra">Cintra</ref> summer delig[MS torn] a scene – such a
                    home! its quiet – its leisure – huzza for Madoc! the gap
                    will soon be filled up there. But the history<note n="12" place="foot" resp="editors">Southey’s uncompleted
                        ‘History of Portugal’.</note> is the great work – the
                    mighty Pyramid labour – &amp; I must to hew stones for the
                        building<del rend="strikethrough">s</del>. </p>
<p rend="indent1"> I was wrong about the Cheese. <ref target="people.html#HillHerbertUncle">my Uncle</ref>
                    wants some – the mild toasting sort. <ref target="people.html#SoutheyMargaret">my Mother</ref>
                    will buy them, &amp; <ref target="people.html#CottleJoseph">Cottle</ref> repay her. pray tell her this, &amp; let
                    them be sent according to the direction which you have.
                    Captain Yescombe<note n="13" place="foot" resp="editors">Edward Bayntun Yescombe (1765–1803), Captain of the
                        Falmouth Packet, <hi rend="ital">King
                        George</hi>.</note> was uncommonly attentive. he omitted
                    no kindness which it lay in his power to show us, both at
                    Falmouth &amp; on the way. parcels consigned to him for <ref target="people.html#HillHerbertUncle">my Uncle</ref>
                    will be taken care, &amp; safely stowed &amp; carefully.</p>
<p rend="indent1"> Of the fleas &amp; muskitoes I say nothing –
                    only <ref target="people.html#FrickerEdith">Edith</ref> was
                    rather surprized to see me fill the slop bason with the
                    former at first. remember me to <ref target="people.html#CottleJoseph">Cottle</ref>, &amp; to
                    Charles Fox.<note n="14" place="foot" resp="editors">Charles
                        Fox (1740?–1809; <title>DNB</title>), poet, orientalist
                        and artist.</note>
<ref target="people.html#FrickerEdith">Edith</ref> is
                    writing home. I also have written to <ref target="people.html#ColeridgeSamuelTaylor">Coleridge</ref> &amp; directed to Bristol. the
                    dizziness of the voyage has almost left me – I am growing
                    sober &amp; the world does not dance before my eyes so
                    giddily. the change of scene has wonderfully improved me. my
                    hair is in full curl &amp; my spirits up to the top of the
                    glass. our love to your Mother. if I could but remove your
                    house <del rend="strikethrough">xx</del> &amp; a very few
                    persons – like the Chapel of Loretto I should have no
                    wandering wishes Englandward.<note n="15" place="foot" resp="editors">According to Catholic tradition, the Holy
                        House at Loretto in Italy was the house in which Jesus
                        grew up in Nazareth. It was miraculously transported to
                        Italy by angels in the 13th century.</note>
</p>
<closer>
<salute rend="indent1"> God bless you.</salute>
<salute rend="indent2"> yrs affectionately</salute>
<signed rend="indent3"> Robert Southey.</signed>
</closer>
<postscript>
<p>I met a Bristol man to day whom I knew in infancy.
                        Stephens of Wine Street<note n="16" place="foot" resp="editors">Possibly William Stephens (dates
                            unknown), a warehouseman in Wine Street,
                            Bristol.</note> – my fathers opposite neighbour. I
                        was quite glad to see his ugly face.</p>
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