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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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<p>British Library, Add MS
                        30927.  Previously  published: Charles Cuthbert Southey
                        (ed.), Life and Correspondence of Robert
                            Southey, 6 vols (London, 1849-1850), II, pp.
                        126-131 [in part]; Adolfo Cabral (ed.), Robert
                            Southey: Journals of a Residence in Portugal
                            1800-1801 and a Visit to France 1838
                        (Oxford, 1960), pp. 146-149 [in part].</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="566" type="letter">
<head>566. Robert Southey to <ref target="people.html#SoutheyTom">Thomas Southey</ref>,
                        <date when="1801-02-12">12 February-28 March
                        1801</date>
<note place="foot" resp="editors" type="headnote">Address: [deletion and readdress in
                        another hand] To/ Lieutenant Thomas Southey./ H. M. S.
                        Bellona./ <del rend="strikethrough">Plymouth Dock</del>/
                        North Sea / Or elsewhere./ Single./ North
                        Yarmouth<lb/>Stamped: [partial] OUTH<lb/>Postmark:
                        [partial] 12<lb/>MS: British Library, Add MS
                        30927<lb/>Previously published: Charles Cuthbert Southey
                        (ed.), <title>Life and Correspondence of Robert
                            Southey</title>, 6 vols (London, 1849-1850), II, pp.
                        126-131 [in part]; Adolfo Cabral (ed.), <title>Robert
                            Southey: Journals of a Residence in Portugal
                            1800-1801 and a Visit to France 1838</title>
                        (Oxford, 1960), pp. 146-149 [in part].</note>
</head>
<p>
<date when="1801-02-12">Thursday Feb<hi rend="sup">y</hi>.
                        12. 1801. </date> Lisbon. </p>
<lb/>
<p rend="indent1"> On Tuesday we crossed the river to Casilhas
                    point – procured jack asses &amp; proceeded to a place
                    called Costa<note n="1" place="foot" resp="editors">Costa da
                        Caparica.</note> to dinner. you know the castle in the
                    mouth of the Tagus – the state prison<note n="2" place="foot" resp="editors">The Belem Tower.</note> –
                    where the man is confined that beat the King.<note n="3" place="foot" resp="editors">Unidentified.</note> the
                    Costa is a collection of fishermens huts on the sand, in a
                    line with it, on the south side of the river. the ride is
                    about seven miles, over a hilly country, that every where
                    displayed novel &amp; striking views. for the foreground
                    huge aloes &amp; the prickly pear – the broom &amp; furze in
                    blossom – broad-headed firs every where where the sandy soil
                    was not cultivated for vines or olives – the sweep of the
                    bay southward skirted by the pine-covered plains – &amp; the
                    mountain boundary – behind us Lisbon on its heights – &amp;
                    the river blue &amp; boundless as a sea. thro a cleft in a
                    sand bank – a winter ravine way for the rains, we first saw
                    the Costa at about half a mile below us, the most singular
                    view I ever beheld – huts all of thatch scatterd upon the
                    sand – we descended by a very steep way cut thro the sand
                    hill – the sand on either side fretted by the weather like
                        <del rend="strikethrough">xx</del> old sculpture long
                    weather worn. all below belongs to the sea – but on the bare
                    sands a numerous tribe have fixed their habitations – which
                    exactly resemble the wigwams of the Nootka savages.<note n="4" place="foot" resp="editors">Nootka was the name
                        that Europeans gave to an island, an inlet and a group
                        of peoples on the Pacific coast of Canada.</note> – a
                    wooden frame all thatched – is all. most commonly the door
                    descends – for warmth – &amp; the window often on a level
                    with the ground without – two only symptoms showed us that
                    we were in a Xtian country – a church – the only stone
                    building – &amp; a party stretched upon the sand at cards.
                    the men live by fishing – &amp; a stronger race I never saw
                    – or more prolific, for children seemed to swarm. as parties
                    from Lisbon are frequent here there are two or three hovels
                    of entertainment. ours had ragged rhymes upon its walls
                    recommending us to drink by the barrel &amp; not by the
                    quart ale-house advice in lines almost as long as the poem
                    upon Pharaoh King of Egypt.<note n="5" place="foot" resp="editors">Identity uncertain; possible candidates
                        include Edward Young (c. 1683-1765; <title>DNB</title>)
                            <title>Busiris, King of Egypt</title> (1719);
                        Charles Marsh (d. 1782), <title>Amasis King of
                            Egypt</title> (1738); or the popular mummers’ play
                            <title>Alexander and the King of
                        Egypt</title>.</note> one is worth noting – it was Love
                    &amp; Jollity for ever &amp; S<hi rend="sup">t</hi> Joseph
                    &amp; the Virgin Mary. we took our dinner – added fish to it
                    there – rode about two miles &amp; reembarked at the Trifana
                    – &amp; returned after as pleasant a day as
                    ever-pleasure-party experienced.</p>
<p rend="indent1"> In riding to Odivellas I saw somewhat curious
                    – it was a Padroñ<del rend="strikethrough">a</del> by the
                    road side. we have no other word in English – &amp; it
                    occurs often in romance – for a place raised by the wayside
                    where a station or inscription is placed: there was an image
                    of Christ there – &amp; some unaccountable inscriptions
                    about robbery &amp; hiding heaven in the earth, which a
                    series of pictures in tiles behind, explained. A hundred
                    years ago the church at Odivellas was robbed of the church
                    plate &amp; of the sacrament – then I saw the thief playing
                    at skittles when the sacristan of the church past by – whom
                    he followed in &amp; hid himself – then I saw him robbing
                    the altar – next “you shall see how he hid the
                    church-dresses in the house of a woman – &amp; here he is
                    burying the sacrament plate in a vineyard upon this very
                    spot. here he is examined upon suspicion &amp; denies all,
                    &amp; says who ever did the sacrilege ought to have his
                    hands cut off. here he is taken in the act of stealing the
                    fowls of the convent – &amp; he confesses all. here they dig
                    up the hidden treasure &amp; carry it back in a solemn
                    procession – here he is going to execution – here you see
                    his hands cut off according to his own sentence – &amp; here
                    he is strangled &amp; burnt. It is remarkable that in almost
                    all these tiles the face of the criminal is broken to pieces
                    – probably in abhorrence of his guilt. The loss of the Wafer
                    has been ever regarded as a national calamity – to be
                    lamented with public prayers &amp; fasts &amp; processions.
                    It happened at Mexico in the Conquerors days, &amp;
                        Cortez<note n="6" place="foot" resp="editors">Hernan
                        Cortes (1485-1547), conqueror of the Aztec
                        empire.</note> himself paraded with the monks &amp; the
                    mob. ––– </p>
<lb/>
<p>
<date when="1801-03-28">Saturday March 28.</date> In the long
                    interval that has elapsed since this letter was begun we
                    have travelled about three hundred &amp; fifty miles.<note n="7" place="foot" resp="editors">For an account of this
                        journey, see Southey’s journal, published in Adolfo
                        Cabral, <title>Robert Southey: Journals of a Residence
                            in Portugal 1800-1801 and a Visit to France
                            1838</title> (Oxford, 1960), pp. 15-33.</note>
                        Waterhouse<note n="8" place="foot" resp="editors">Samuel
                        Waterhouse (dates unknown). Later a prominent member of
                        the English community in Portugal.</note> &amp; I took
                    charge of <ref target="people.html#FrickerEdith">Edith</ref>
                    &amp; three ladies.<note n="9" place="foot" resp="editors">
<ref target="people.html#SetonBarbara">Barbara
                            Seton</ref> and the two Petrie sisters. The latter
                        may have possibly been related to Martin Petrie (d.
                        1805), a Commissary in the British Army.</note> a Doctor
                    at Aldea da Cruz of whom we besought houseroom one night in
                    distress told us with more truth than politeness that four
                    women were a mighty inconvenience. We did not find them so –
                    they made our chocolate at morning. laughed with us by day –
                    enjoyed the scenery, packed our provisions basket, &amp; at
                    night endured flea-biting with a patience that entitles them
                    to an honourable place in the next martyrology. All Lisbon I
                    believe thought us mad when we set out – &amp; they now
                    regard our return with equal envy as only our complections
                    have suffered – to detail the journey would be too long – we
                    asked at Santarem if they had room for us – they said plenty
                    – we begged to see them – they had two rooms – four men
                    a-bed in one – one fellow a bed in the other, at Pombal
                    Waterhouse &amp; I slept in public – in a room that served
                    as a passage for the family. Men &amp; women
                    indiscriminately made the Ladies beds. one night we passed
                    thro a room wherein eight men were sleeping – who rose up to
                    look at us – something like a picture of the resurrection.
                    these facts will enable you to judge of the comforts &amp;
                    decencies of Portugueze – they once wanted us – 4 women
                    &amp; two men – to sleep in two beds in one room.</p>
<p rend="indent1"> Yet bad as these places are the Mail Coach
                    has made them still worse. that is it has rendered the
                    people less civil &amp; made the expences heavier.</p>
<p rend="indent1"> We crost the Zezere. a river of importance in
                    the history of Portugal, as its banks form the great
                    protection of Lisbon. it is the place where a stand might
                    most effectually be made against an invading army. the river
                    is fine – about our Avon width at Rownham, &amp; flowing
                    between hills of our Clifton &amp; Leigh height that are
                    covered with heath, &amp; gum-cistus. the water is
                    beautifully clear, &amp; the bottom sand. like all mountain
                    streams the Zezere is of irregular &amp; untameable force.
                    in summer horsemen ford it. in winter the ferry price varies
                    according to the resistance of the current – from one vintem
                    to nine – that is from a penny to a shilling. It then enters
                    the Tagus with equal waters – sometimes with a larger body,
                    for as the rains may have fallen heavier East or North, the
                    one river with its rush almost stagnates the other.</p>
<p rend="indent1"> At Pombal we saw Our Ladys Oven – where
                    annually a fire is kindled – a wafer baked – &amp; a man,
                    the Shadrach<note n="10" place="foot" resp="editors">One of
                        the three young men who survived being thrown into a
                        furnace; see <title>Daniel</title> 3: 22-28.</note> of
                    the town, walks round the glowing oven &amp; comes out
                    unhurt &amp; unsinged by special miracle of our Lady of
                    Cardal. At Thomar is a statue of S<hi rend="sup">t</hi>
                    Christofer on the bridge. three grains of his leg – taken in
                    a glass of water is a sovereign cure for the ague – &amp;
                    poor S<hi rend="sup">t</hi> Christofers legs are almost worn
                    out by the extent of the practice. Torres Vedras is the
                    place where Father Antony of the Wounds<note n="11" place="foot" resp="editors">Antonio da Fonseca Soares
                        (1631-1682), a soldier and writer who became a
                        Franciscan friar under the name Antonio das Chagas
                        (‘Antony of the Wounds’).</note> died – a man suspected
                    of sanctity the pious mob attacked his body – stripped it
                    naked – cut off all his hair, &amp; tore up his nails – to
                    keep for relics. I have seen relics of all the Saints – yea
                    a thorn from the crown of crucifixion – &amp; a drop of the
                    Redemption-blood. All this you shall hereafter see at length
                    in the regular journal.</p>
<p rend="indent1"> A more interesting subject is our return. My
                        <ref target="people.html#HillHerbertUncle">Uncle</ref>
                    will I think return with us – or at least speedily follow.
                    We look forward to the expulsion of the English as only
                    avoidable by a general peace – &amp; this so little probable
                    that all preparations are making for removal. My <ref target="people.html#HillHerbertUncle">Uncle</ref> is
                    sending away all his books – &amp; I am now in the dirt of
                    packing. I look on to his return as the only means of
                    extricating my <ref target="people.html#SoutheyMargaret">Mother</ref> from that miserable situation – to which
                    she will else ever return like a dog to his vomit, in spite
                    of all my intreaties &amp; effort.<note n="12" place="foot" resp="editors">A paraphrase of <title>Proverbs</title>
                        26: 11. Southey was hoping that Herbert Hill would be
                        able to remove Margaret Southey from the baleful
                        influence of her half-sister Elizabeth Tyler.</note> in
                    May I hope to be in Bristol – eager enough – God knows – to
                    see old friends &amp; old familiar scenes – <del rend="strikethrough">xxxtter</del> – but with no
                    pleasant anticipation of English taxes &amp; English climate
                    &amp; small beer – after this blessed sun – &amp; the wines
                    of Portugal. my health has received all the benefit I could
                    &amp; did expect. a longer residence would I think render
                    the amendment permanent; &amp; with this idea the prospect
                    of an hereafter return to compleat the latter part of my
                    history is by no means unpleasant.</p>
<p rend="indent1"> God bless you &amp; keep you from the North
                    seas. I have written in haste – obliged to write letters on
                    my return – &amp; not having leisure to write half. <ref target="people.html#FrickerEdith">Ediths</ref> love. I
                    know not when or where we shall meet – but when I am on
                    English ground the distance between us will not be so
                    unpassable – farewell – </p>
<closer>
<salute rend="indent1"> yrs truly </salute>
<signed rend="indent2"> Robert Southey</signed>
</closer>
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