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<title type="main">The Collected Letters of Robert Southey. Part 2: 1798-1803 </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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<date>2011-08-15</date>
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<p>Berg Collection, New York Public
                        Library.  Previously  published: Charles Cuthbert
                        Southey (ed.), Life and Correspondence of Robert
                            Southey, 6 vols (London, 1849-1850), II, pp.
                        140-144 [in part]; Adolfo Cabral (ed.), Robert
                            Southey: Journals of a Residence in Portugal
                            1800-1801 and a Visit to France 1838
                        (Oxford, 1960), pp. 164-166 [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="577" type="letter">
<head>577. Robert Southey to <ref target="people.html#FrickerEdith">Edith Southey</ref>,
                        <date when="1801-04-17">17 April 1801</date>
<note place="foot" resp="editors" type="headnote">Address: A/
                        Senhora Donna Editha Southey/ na casa do Senhor Guilerme
                        Gonne / Rua da Assemblea/ Lisboa [Editor’s note: William
                        Gonne (d. before 1815), package agent at
                        Lisbon.]<lb/>MS: Berg Collection, New York Public
                        Library<lb/>Previously published: Charles Cuthbert
                        Southey (ed.), <title>Life and Correspondence of Robert
                            Southey</title>, 6 vols (London, 1849-1850), II, pp.
                        140-144 [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. 164-166 [in part].</note>
</head>
<opener>
<dateline>
<address>
<placeName>Faro</placeName>
</address>
<date when="1801-04-17">Friday. April 17. 1801</date>
</dateline>
</opener>
<p rend="indent1"> By the luckiest opportunity, my dear Edith, I
                    am enabled to write, &amp; ease myself of a load of
                        uneasiness.<note n="1" place="foot" resp="editors">For
                        details of Southey’s southward trip to the Algarve on
                        7-29 April 1801 see his journal, published in Adolfo
                        Cabral, <title>Robert Southey: Journals of a Residence
                            in Portugal 1800-1801 and a Visit to France in
                            1838</title> (Oxford, 1960), pp. 33-61.</note> an
                    express is about to leave Faro – otherwise till Tuesday
                    next, there, would have been no conveyance. We are at M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Lemprieres,<note n="2" place="foot" resp="editors">John Lempriere (dates unknown), British
                        consul at Faro.</note> hospitably &amp; kindly received,
                    &amp; for the first time resting after ten days very hard
                    labour. At Cassillas our letter to Kirwan<note n="3" place="foot" resp="editors">Possibly a partner in the
                        firm of Gould, Kirwan &amp; Co. of Lisbon.</note> was of
                    no use as he was absent. for mules they asked too much &amp;
                    we mounted ours &amp; to Azeitaõ. there no supply was to be
                    found, &amp; these same beasts carried us to Setubal, which
                    we did not reach till night. the Irish house was deserted,
                    &amp; we lost nothing by going to an excellent estalagem.
                    next day rain till noon, when we embarked &amp; sailed thro
                    dull &amp; objectless shores to Alcacere. mules to Evora –
                    the distance nine leagues of which the two first they said
                    were equal to two apiece. &amp; at the end of the first
                    there set in a severe rain with the coldest North East wind
                    we ever experienced. <del rend="strikethrough">xx</del> the
                    road was one infinite charneca<note n="4" place="foot" resp="editors">Moor or heath.</note> – a wilderness of
                    gum cistus. we would have stopped anywhere – about six in
                    the evening we begged charity at a peasants house at the
                    Monte dos Morenos – three leagues short of Evora – dripping
                    wet &amp; deadly cold, dreading darkness &amp; the effects
                    of so severe a wetting &amp; of the worse cold wind. We got
                    admittance &amp; all possible kindness – dried ourselves
                    &amp; baggage which was wet also – supped upon the little
                    round curd-cheeses of the country, olives &amp; milk &amp;
                    slept in comfort. the morning was fine, but the same wind
                    continued till yesterday &amp; has plagued us cruelly by day
                    &amp; night. At Evora we remained half a day – there our
                    night sufferings began – from thence till we reached Faro we
                    have never slept in one ceiled room – all tiled so loosely
                    that an astrologer would find them no bad observatories,
                    &amp; by no possible means could we keep ourselves warm.
                        Waterhouse<note n="5" place="foot" resp="editors">Samuel
                        Waterhouse (dates unknown), later a prominent figure in
                        the British community in Portugal.</note> I taught
                    indeed by Niebuhrs example in Arabia<note n="6" place="foot" resp="editors"> Carsten Niebuhr (1733-1815),
                            <title>Travels through Arabia, and Other Countries
                            in the East … Translated into English By Robert
                            Heron</title>, 2 vols (Edinburgh, 1792), I, p. 326,
                        told the salutary tale of how Von Haven, Niebuhr’s
                        fellow traveller, caught cold and died after lying ‘for
                        several nights successively, upon the roof of the house,
                        in the open air, and with his face uncovered’.</note> to
                    lie with his face under the sheet – but it suffocated me.
                    from Evora burros<note n="7" place="foot" resp="editors">Donkeys.</note> to Beja – a day &amp; half. we slept at
                    Villa Ruiva. from Viana to that little town is a lovely
                    track of country – &amp; except that little island of
                    cultivation we have seen <del rend="strikethrough">always</del> nothing but charnacas till we reached
                    Tavira. the <ref target="people.html#CenaculoManuel">Bishop</ref> gave us cheese &amp; incomparable wine
                    &amp; a letter to Father John of the Palm<note n="8" place="foot" resp="editors">Parish priest at Castro
                        Verde, which Southey wished to visit. It was near the
                        battlefield of Ourique, where the Portuguese had won a
                        great victory over Muslim forces in 1139.</note> at
                    Castro. to Castro a days journey – on the road a monumental
                    cross where a man had been eat by the wolves. John of the
                    Palm is a very blackguard priest, but he was useful. we had
                    a curious party there of his friends drinking wine with us
                    in the room or rather between the four walls where we were
                    pounded – not housed for the night. a deputy judge, with a
                    great sword old as the Portugueze monarchy – smoking &amp;
                    handing round his cigar out of his own mouth to the rest of
                    the company – our muleteer that was to be – hand &amp; glove
                    with the Priest &amp; the Magistrate &amp; another
                    pot-companion. next day across the field of Ourique &amp;
                    seven long leagues of wilderness to Martimlongo. there was
                    no estalagem. in fact we were in the wilds of Alentejo where
                    hardly ever traveller had penetrated. we were again thrown
                    on charity &amp; again kindly received. this was Tuesday. on
                    Wednesday we crossed the mountains to Tavira – seven leagues
                    – in the Bishops language long leagues – terrible leagues –
                    infinite leagues. the road would be utterly impassable were
                    it not that the host is carried on horseback in these wilds,
                    &amp; therefore the way must be kept open. as we passed one
                    ugly spot the guide told us a man broke his neck here
                    lately. this days journey however was quite new – wherever
                    we looked was mountain – waving – swelling – breasting –
                    exactly like the sea-like prints of the Holy Land which you
                    see in old travels. at last the Sea appeared – &amp; the
                    Guadiana – &amp; the frontier towns Ayamonte &amp; Castro
                    Marim. we descended &amp; entered the Garden – the Paradise
                    of Algarve – there our troubles &amp; labour were to end. we
                    were out of the wilderness – milk &amp; honey indeed we did
                    not expect in the Land of Promise – but we expected every
                    thing else. the sound of a drum alarmed us &amp; we found
                    Tavira full of soldiers. the Governor examined our pass –
                    &amp; I could but smile at the way in which he eyed Roberto
                    Southey the Negociante<note n="9" place="foot" resp="editors">Merchant.</note> – of ordinary stature –
                    thin – a long face – a dark complection &amp;c – &amp;
                    squinted at Waterhouses lame legs. for a man in power he was
                    civil &amp; sent us to the Corregidor<note n="10" place="foot" resp="editors">An official who presided
                        over the town council and administered local
                        justice.</note> to get our beasts secured. this second
                    inspection over – we were in the streets of Tavira to beg a
                    nights lodging – &amp; beg hard we did for some hour. at
                    last, induced by the muleteer whom she knew, &amp; by the
                    petition of some dozen honest people whom our situation had
                    drawn about us a woman who had one room unoccupied by the
                    soldiers, turned the key with doubt &amp; delay – for her
                    husband was absent – &amp; we wanted nothing but a ceiling.
                    yesterday we reached Faro, &amp; today remain here to rest.
                    General Connell<note n="11" place="foot" resp="editors">Brigadier-General Joao Schadwell Connell (dates
                        unknown), Governor of Faro.</note> will hardly let us
                    depart tomorrow – which however we will do unless these
                    clouds fulfill their threatening &amp; detain us by weather.
                    we have ten days journey home by the Cape &amp; the Caldas
                    of Monchique, of which we hear a sort of <ref target="places.html#Cintra">Cintra</ref> description. I
                    was uneasy knowing you would be alarmed – now as this will
                    reach you &amp; inform you of our safety my furlough must
                    needs be prolonged. Our faces are skinned by the cutting
                    wind &amp; the sun. my nose has been roasted by a slow fire
                    – burnt alive by sunbeams – tis a great comfort that
                    Waterhouse has no reason to laugh at it, &amp; even
                        Bentos<note n="12" place="foot" resp="editors">Portuguese servant.</note> is of a fine carbuncle
                    colour. thank God you were not with us. one room is the
                    utmost these hovels contain. the walls of stone unmortared –
                    &amp; the roofs what I have described them.</p>
<p rend="indent1"> Yet we are well repaid. &amp; have never
                    faltered either in health or spirits. At Evora at Bejà – at
                    the Ourique field was much to interest – &amp; here we are
                    in a lovely country – to us a little heaven. Of rest we were
                    quite glad &amp; stood in need. the Lemprieres are very
                    friendly &amp; would willingly help us a week. If weather
                    permit we depart tomorrow – but it threatens. They fortify
                    us from hence with letters to the Caldas<note n="13" place="foot" resp="editors">Caldas de Monchique, a spa
                        on Monchique mountain.</note> where we must go to the
                    Hospital – &amp; to Lagos where we must go to the Fort – for
                    in neither place is there an estalagem. – I have tarried
                    over our way that you may know simply where we have been
                    &amp; where we are. the full account would be a weeks work.
                    – You will &lt;be&gt; amused at the adventures of two Irish
                    &amp; one Scotch officers who came from Gibralter to Lagos
                    with a fortnights leave of absence to amuse themselves. they
                    brought a Genoese interpreter &amp; understood from him that
                    it was eleven leagues to Faro &amp; a good turnpike road – I
                    write their own unexaggerated account. they determined to
                    ride there to dinner – &amp; they were three days on the
                    way. begging – threatening – drawing their swords to get
                    lodged at night – all in vain. the first night they slept at
                    [MS torn] in the fields. afterwards they learnt a humbler
                    tone &amp; got between t[MS torn] no beds. here they waited
                    six weeks for an opportunity of getting back – &amp; one of
                    them was paymaster at Gibralter. they were utterly miserable
                    for want of somewhat to do. billiards eternally – they even
                    bought birds – a cat – a dog – a fox for play things.
                    yesterday they embarked after spending a hundred pieces here
                    in six weeks – neither they nor any one else knowing how –
                    except that they gave six testoons a bottle for all the Port
                    wine in the place.</p>
<p rend="indent1"> I must not delay longer. our route is to
                    Sylves – Monchique – Lagos – the Cape. then a wild way home.
                    it is ten days work – &amp; for accidental delays something
                    should be allowed – be you therefore quite easy. I do wish
                    it were over – yet would I go thro double difficulty &amp;
                    inconvenience to see what this journey has shown me. I
                    direct to M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Gonnes as the easiest mode
                    – &amp; if you have left it the letter still find you. you
                    will remember me with thanks to M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> &amp;
                        M<hi rend="sup">rs</hi> G. God bless you. I have a
                    thousand things to tell you on my return. my dear Edith – we
                    have yet the most interesting part to see.</p>
<closer>
<salute rend="indent1"> yrs</salute>
<signed rend="indent2"> Robert Southey</signed>
</closer>
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