Samuel Rogers and his Contemporaries
Uvedale Price to Samuel Rogers, 6 October 1824
‘You are a very pretty fellow indeed to talk of
breaking your heart if we do not come to town next year, when you are breaking
ours, and your promise into the bargain, by not coming to us this; then, you
throw out hopes of your coming another time, and talk of next year to a man of
seventy-seven and upwards, and with one foot—but I won’t tell lies;
neither of mine is in the grave, nor, I really believe, very near it, and I
hope to have many a pleasant walk and talk with you, though not here.’
He then fills several sheets with an elaborate discussion of
the Latin and Greek pronunciation, and proceeds—
‘I remember hearing that Queen Caroline, the wife of George
II., when she first came to England, being very fond of oysters
and having heard the fame of ours, desired to have some; the finest and
freshest Colchester were procured; she would hardly touch them. Pyefleet were
tried; she kicked at them, and declared that English oysters were good for
nothing. One of her attendants guessed how the case stood, and luckily found
out some refuse oysters, all but stinking, and brought them to her.
“Ay,” she cried, “these are the right sort; these have
the true flavour of ours in Germany,” and devoured the whole
dish. Such, whether in an oyster or in
386 | ROGERS AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES | |
higher matters, is
the omnipotence of habit, and I am persuaded that if the change I have supposed
in the execution of music were to be made, and to be continued (like our change
in ancient recitation) for some centuries, and that then a few musicians,
convinced of its absurdity, and wishing to bring about a reform, were, after
practising in private, to execute a piece of music according
to time, they would be hissed out of the orchestra, because their new
mode, like the fresh oysters, had not the accustomed flavour; noto contingit odore, is the main point, to whatever sense we may
address ourselves. I shall make no further excuses for the length of this
discussion, if you happen to take an interest in it, a few pages are nothing,
if you do not, a single page is a volume; mais parlous d’autres choses.
‘And so, by your own frank confession, you showed my
letter to Lord and Lady Grenville, and to a breach of promise added a breach of
confidence. Ah! double traître. As, however, they
were pleased with the manner in which I spoke of them, I cannot be angry, and I
must say that I have great reliance on your tact, and am sure you would never
show anything at all likely to hurt the feelings of either party. I certainly
did leave Dropmore with a very strong and most favourable impression of
everything there, in every way, and I wrote to you under that impression, just
as it had remained in my mind. I regret not having known them earlier in life.
I have lost a great deal, and I now feel truly anxious about him. I really
believe I should have had the very great pleasure of seeing them both at Foxley
this year, if he had not thought it necessary or, at least, prudent,
| BOWOOD IN THE OLD TIMES | 387 |
to keep a stricter regimen
than he well could from home, and to be within reach of his medical adviser;
next year, I have some hopes, and if they should come who knows who might like
to meet them? Whoever they may be, and however ill they may have behaved
themselves, they shall be most kindly received.
‘I wish I could have met you and the grand chorus of
Bards at Bowood; it would have been a lucky moment, for though I so much like
both Lord and Lady
Lansdowne, and am so curious to see the place again after a very
long interval, that I should have wished for nothing more, yet such a party I
must own would have enhanced the pleasure. The only time I ever saw Bowood was
with Knight, just forty years ago, for
it was just before he published his “Landscape” and I my “Essay.” Lord Lansdowne, I remember, used to look at us
with some surprise when we were making very bold remarks on all that we saw.
“He does not know,” said Knight to me,
“that we are great doctors.” Not long afterwards we laid
our respective claims before the public. This visit of ours was at the early
part of the French Revolution; we found at Bowood the Duchesse de Levis and her mother; the next day
Talleyrand arrived while we were at
dinner. I was very much struck with the look he cast round the company, as he
slowly walked in—it had the appearance of sullen haughtiness with a sort
of suspicious examination. The day after in came the Duc de Levis, with a very different allure; a more ill-looking, mean-looking fellow I never
saw, and so his handsome wife seemed to think by her manner of receiving him.
So much for old times and the company I did meet at Bowood, now for
388 | ROGERS AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES | |
those I unluckily did not.
Bowles, as you know, I am well
acquainted with, but not as a flute-player, and on that, as well as on every
other account, I should have been very glad to have met him, and have heard him
perform his water-music and do the honours of his water-party. A Greek poet is
very severe on flute-players; he allows that the gods have given them a mind,
but that out it flies with the first puff of their breath. . . .
‘Crabbe, I once
saw and that’s all. I might have been acquainted with him, for Sir Joshua invited me to dinner, and told me I
should meet Crabbe and Johnson. I had some engagement, probably (for I was then, as
Ste. Fox used to say of himself, a
young man of wit and pleasure about town) at some fine house to meet fine
gentlemen and ladies: whatever it was, I was blockhead enough not to break it,
and I have never forgiven myself. The dinner I went to and the company there I
have never thought of from that time to this; the dinner I did not go to I
never should have forgotten, and if I had gone should now be recollecting every
circumstance with pleasure and satisfaction, instead of crying, Oh, fool! fool!
fool! I am, as you know, a great admirer of Crabbe; so
were Charles Fox and Fitzpatrick. The first poem of his I ever saw
(I believe his first work) was “The
Library”: Charles brought it to Foxley
soon after it came out and read a good deal of it to us, Hare being one of the audience. I particularly
remember his reading the part where Crabbe has described
“the ancient worthies of romance,” and has given in about twenty
lines the essence of knight-errantry. When Fox came to
‘And shadowy forms with staring eyes stalk round, |
Hare cried out (you remember his figure and eyes),
“That’s meant for me.”
‘Moore I do not
even know by sight. I could wish to be as well acquainted with him as I am with
many of his works, for by what I have been told I shall not like him less than
I do them; if I should be in town next year you must bring us together. His
“Life of Sheridan” I shall send for the moment it is out, both on account of the
writer and the subject. At one time I saw a good deal of Sheridan: he and his first wife passed some time here, and he is an
instance that a taste for poetry and for scenery are not always united. Had
this house been in the midst of Hounslow Heath, he could not have taken less
interest in all around it. His delight was in shooting all day, and every day,
and my gamekeeper said that of all the gentlemen he had ever been out with he
never knew so bad a shot. This sorry performer “dans la guerre
aux oiseaux” was, as all can bear witness,
‘Dans les combats d’esprit savant maître
d’escrime. |
As Hare was with us there was some
excellent sparring between those doughty knights, and the more amusing from
their play being—as you well know who knew them both—very
different. You must have known the first Mrs. Sheridan and
have often heard her in private, though you have the misfortune—I wish I
could share it with you—of not being old enough to have heard much of her
in public. Hers was truly “a voice as of the cherub choir,”
and she was always ready to sing without any pressing. She sang here a great
deal, to my infinite delight. But what had a peculiar charm was that she used
to take my daughter, then a child, on her 390 | ROGERS AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES | |
lap and sing a
number of childish songs, with such a playfulness of manner and such a
sweetness of look and voice as was quite enchanting. “Tempo
passato, perchè non ritorni?” This I may say without
meaning any offence to il tempo presente, for in spite
of certain drawbacks that time will produce, and
“of all that must accompany old age,” I still have from
various pursuits, and the interest I continue to take in them, and through the
kindness and indulgence of my friends and of those who are most near and dear
to me, many enjoyments suited to my time of life, in some degree even belonging
to it, ‘And from the dregs of life sometimes receive What the first sprightly runnings could not give. |
One of the pleasures and privileges of old age is garrulity, and in that I
have indulged myself to the top of my bent.
‘With all our best regards and wishes rancune tenante, believe me, most truly yours,
William Lisle Bowles (1762-1850)
English poet and critic; author of
Fourteen Sonnets, elegiac and
descriptive, written during a Tour (1789), editor of the
Works
of Alexander Pope, 10 vols (1806), and writer of pamphlets contributing to the
subsequent Pope controversy.
Queen Caroline of Brunswick-Wolfenbüttel (1768-1821)
Married the Prince of Wales in 1795 and separated in 1796; her husband instituted
unsuccessful divorce proceedings in 1820 when she refused to surrender her rights as
queen.
George Crabbe (1754-1832)
English poet renowned for his couplet verse and gloomy depictions of country persons and
places; author of the
The Village (1783),
The
Parish Register (1807),
The Borough (1810), and
Tales of the Hall (1819).
Richard Fitzpatrick (1748-1813)
English military officer, politician, and poet allied with Fox and Sheridan in
Parliament; he was secretary of state for war (1783, 1806) and author of
Dorinda, a Town Eclogue (1775).
Charles James Fox (1749-1806)
Whig statesman and the leader of the Whig opposition in Parliament after his falling-out
with Edmund Burke.
Lady Anne Grenville [née Pitt] (1772-1864)
The daughter of Thomas Pitt, first Baron Camelford; in 1792 she married William Wyndham
Grenville, first baron Grenville.
William Wyndham Grenville, baron Grenville (1759-1834)
Educated at Eton and Christ Church, Oxford, he was a moderate Whig MP, foreign secretary
(1791-1801), and leader and first lord of the treasury in the “All the Talents” ministry
(1806-1807). He was chancellor of Oxford University (1810).
James Hare (1747-1804)
MP for Stockbridge (1772-74) and Knaresborough (1781-1804); he was a close friend of
Charles James Fox, R. B. Sheridan, and the Duchess of Devonshire. In person he was
remarkably thin and pale, arousing comments.
Samuel Johnson (1709-1784)
English man of letters, among many other works he edited
A Dictionary
of the English Language (1755) and Shakespeare (1765), and wrote
Lives of the Poets (1779-81).
Richard Payne Knight (1751-1824)
MP and writer on taste; in 1786 he published
An Account of the Remains
of the Worship of Priapus for the Society of Dilettanti; he was author of
The Landscape: a Didactic Poem (1794),
An
Analytical Inquiry into the Principles of Taste (1805) and other works.
Pierre-Marc-Gaston, duc de Lévis (1764-1830)
Author of
Souvenirs-portraits (1813),
L'Angleterre au commencement du dix-neuvième siècle (1814), and
Considérations morales sur les finances (1816).
Thomas Moore (1779-1852)
Irish poet and biographer, author of the
Irish Melodies (1807-34),
The Fudge Family in Paris (1818), and
Lalla
Rookh (1817); he was Byron's close friend and designated biographer.
Sir Uvedale Price, first baronet (1747-1829)
Of Foxley in Herefordshire; he was educated at Eton and Christ Church, Oxford, and
published
Essay on the Picturesque (1794).
Sir Joshua Reynolds (1723-1792)
English portrait-painter and writer on art; he was the first president of the Royal
Academy (1768).
Elizabeth Ann Sheridan [née Linley] (1754-1792)
Much-admired English singer, daughter of the musician Thomas Linley; she was compelled to
give up her career upon marrying Richard Brinsley Sheridan in 1773.
Richard Brinsley Sheridan (1751-1816)
Anglo-Irish playwright, author of
The School for Scandal (1777),
Whig MP and ally of Charles James Fox (1780-1812).