The business of placing me at Westminster afforded
my aunt an excuse for going to London; Miss Palmer was
easily persuaded to accompany her and to hire a carriage for the season, and we
set off in February 1788. I had never before been a mile from Bath in that
direction, and when my childish thoughts ever wandered into the terra incognita which I was one day to
explore, this had been the road to it, simply because all the other outlets
from that city were familiar to me. We slept at Marlborough the first night; at
Reading the second, and on the third day we reached Salt Hill. Tom and Charles
Palmer were summoned from Eton to meet their aunt there, and we
remained a day for the purpose of seeing Windsor, which I have never seen
since. Lodgings had been engaged in a small house in Pall Mall, for no
situation that was less fashionable would content Miss Tyler, and she had a reckless prodigality at fits and
starts, the effects of which could not be counteracted by the parsimony and
even penuriousness of her usual habits. Mr.
Palmer was at that time comptroller of the Post Office, holding
the situation which he had so well
| 134 | LIFE AND CORRESPONDENCE |
About six weeks elapsed before I was deposited at my place
of destination. In the interval I had passed a few days with the Newberrys at Addiscombe, and with the
Miss Delamares at Cheshunt; at the latter place I was
happy, for they were excellent women, to whom my heart opened, and I had the
full enjoyment of the country there, without any drawback. London I very much
disliked: I was too young to take any pleasure in the companies to which I was
introduced as an inconvenient appendage of my aunt’s; nor did I feel half
the interest at the theatres, splendid as they were, which I had been wont to
take at Bath and Bristol, where every actor’s face was familiar to me,
and every movement of the countenance could be perceived. I wished for
Shad, and the carpentry, and poor
Phillis, and our rambles among the woods and
rocks. At length, upon the first of April (of all ominous days that could be
chosen), Mr. Palmer took me in his
carriage to Dean’s Yard, introduced me to Dr.
Smith, entered my name with him, and, upon his recommendation,
placed me
| OF ROBERT SOUTHEY. | 135 |
Botch Hayes, as he was denominated, for the manner in which he mended his pupil’s verses, kept a smaller boarding-house next door; but at this time a treaty of union between the two houses was going on, which, like the union of Castille and Aragon, was to be brought about by a marriage between the respective heads of the several states. This marriage took place during the ensuing Whitsun-holydays; and the smaller flock was removed in consequence to our boarding-house, which then took the name of Hayes’s, but retained it only a few months, for Hayes, in disgust at not being appointed under-master, withdrew from the school: his wife of course followed his fortunes, and was succeeded by Mrs. Clough, who migrated thither with a few boarders from Abingdon Street. But as Botch Hayes is a person who must make his appearance in the Athenæ Cantabrigienses (if my lively, happy, good-natured friend Mr. Hughes carries into effect his intention of compiling such a work), I will say something of him here.
He was a man who, having some skill and much facility in
versifying, walked for many years over the Seatonlan race-ground at Cambridge,
and enjoyed the produce of Mr.
Seaton’s Kislingbury estate without a competitor. He was,
moreover, what Oldys describes Nahum Tate to have been,—“a
free, good-natured fuddling companion;” to all which qualities
his countenance bore witness. With better conduct and
| 136 | LIFE AND CORRESPONDENCE |
I was placed in the under fourth, a year lower than I
might have been if I could have made Latin verses, and yet more than a year too
high for being properly trained to make them. The manner of introducing a boy
into the ways of the school was by placing him for a week or ten days under the
direction of one in the same remove, who is called his substance, the new comer
being the shadow; and, during this sort of noviciate, the shadow neither takes
nor loses place by his own deserts, but follows the substance. A diligent and
capable boy is, of course, selected for this service; and Smedley, the usher of the fourth, to my great
joy, picked out George Strachey,
| OF ROBERT SOUTHEY. | 137 |
The present Lord
Amherst was head of the house; a mild, inoffensive boy, who
interfered with no one, and, having a room to himself (which no other boy had),
lived very much to himself in it, liked and respected by every body. I was
quartered in the room with ——, who afterwards married that
sweet creature, Lady ——, and never was woman of a
dove-like nature more unsuitably mated, for ——, when in
anger, was perfectly frantic. His face was as fine as a countenance could be
which expressed so ungovernable and dangerous a temper; the finest red and
white, dark eyes and brows, and black curling hair; but the expression was
rather that of a savage than of a civilized being, and no savage could be more
violent. He had seasons of good-nature, and at the worst was rather to be
dreaded than disliked; for he was plainly not master of himself. But I had
cause to dread him; for he once attempted to hold me by the leg out of the
window; it was the first floor, and over a stone area: had I not struggled in
time, and clung to the frame with both hands, my life would probably have been
sacrificed to this freak of temporary madness. He used to pour water into my
ear when I was a-bed and asleep, fling the porter-pot or the poker
| 138 | LIFE AND CORRESPONDENCE |
He kept his word faithfully, and left school a few months afterwards, when he was about seventeen or eighteen, and apparently full grown,—a singularly fine and striking youth; indeed, one of those figures which you always remember vividly. I heard nothing of him till the Irish rebellion: he served in the army there; and there was a story, which got into the newspapers, of his meeting a man upon the road, and putting him to death without judge or jury, upon suspicion of his being a rebel. It was, no doubt, an act of madness. I know not whether any proceedings took place (indeed, in those dreadful times, anything was passed over); but he died soon afterwards, happily for himself, and all who were connected with him.
Miss Tyler returned to Bristol before
the Whitsun-holydays, having embarrassed herself, and had recourse to shifts of
which I knew too much. To
| OF ROBERT SOUTHEY. | 139 |
I have heard her mother relate an anecdote of herself
which is well worthy of preservation, because of another personage to whom it
relates also. She was
| 140 | LIFE AND CORRESPONDENCE |
| OF ROBERT SOUTHEY. | 141 |
James Beresford was the other visitor at
Cheshunt, an unsuccessful translator of the Æneid into blank verse, but the very successful
author of the Miseries of Human
Life. He was then a young man, either just in orders, or on the
point of being ordained. This story was then remembered of him at the Charter
House: that he had been equally remarkable when a boy for his noisiness and his
love of music; and having one day skipped school to attend a concert, there was
such an unusual quietness in consequence of his absence, that the master looked
round, and said “Where’s Beresford? I am
sure he cannot be in school!” and the detection thus brought
about cost poor Beresford a flogging. Him also, like
Betsey La Chaumette, I never saw after that visit;
and, with all his pleasantness and good-nature, he left upon me an unpleasant
impression, from a trifling circumstance which I remember as indicative of my
own moral temper at that time. Our holydays’ exercise was to compose a
certain number of Latin verses from any part
| 142 | LIFE AND CORRESPONDENCE |
Smedley spoke to me sensibly and kindly
about this exercise, and put me in training as far as could then be done. He
had no reason to complain of my want of good-will, for before the next holydays
I wrote about fifty long and short verses upon the death of Fair Rosamund, which I put into his hands. The
composition was bad enough, I dare say, in many respects; but it gave proofs of
good progress. They were verses to the ear as well as to the fingers; and I
remember them sufficiently to know that the attempt was that of a poet. It is
worth remembering as being the only Latin poem that I ever composed
voluntarily.
| OF ROBERT SOUTHEY. | 143 |
“The sacred Sisters for their own Baptized me in the springs of Helicon;” |
“Todo paxaro en su nido Natural canto mantiene, En que ser perfeto viene: Porque en el canto aprendido Mil imperfeciones tiene.” |
