59. Robert Southey and Grosvenor Charles Bedford to Nicholas Lightfoot, 27–30 September 1793*

Brixton Causeway. Saturday. Sept. 27. 1793

————

Dear Lightfoot before me my pen & ink layIn all I’m prepard but in what I’ve to say,But now the beginning before me is doneThe ready remainder will merrily run —Like a huge heavy windmill not easy to raiseWhen once set a going most rapidly plays —Or more like myself sitting snug in my roomWrapt up in the mantle of dull college gloomNow list to the lay of the bold Grecian lyreThen eat toasted cheese & heap coals on the fireLoll along on the sofa or fill the great chairWhilst you vainly persuade me to walk for the air —But if your good eloquence move me — why thenThe Devil himself cannot stop me againOver hills dales & vallies as swift as the windI run & leave College & Folly behindFree & wild as the breezes that wave my colts maneOr like Moscow the mastiff let loose from his chain.

No more mathematical figures I planWhich leave you more puzzled than when you beganNor talk of Lactantius¹ Pomatum² & PotBelteshazzar³ — Knife — Ortho dogs — Mushroom what notSince our Prose was run mad in that whimsical letterLet us try if our verse can succeed any betterAnd as smooth run the verse in soft well measurd timeIf you cannot find reason you’re sure to find rhyme.

Regularity Lightfoot’s the soul of inditingAnd with all Regularity I will be writingSo behold the whole stock of this long letters’ richesThe wasps nest — the midnight alarm & the breeches —Behold my dear Lightfoot the wasps nest imprimisTo describe which more gravely most certainly time is —At Bristol by night the mail coach I me fixt onI arrivd in the morn snug & safely at BrixtonTwas just half past 7 or a few minutes moreUp I went & heard Bedford most merrily snoreSo I set up a hallo — for you know I such canAnd wak’d him from out of his dream of a DutchmanA more senseless vision can never be hadFor he really dreamt of a Dutchman run mad!On a subject like this I no longer will keepNor dream oer his dream till I lull you to sleep —After breakfast — my not-able shoes I put onAnd away for a walk to Carshalton am goneWhere young Bedford declard I a river should findFit to bathe as the Isis so late left behind.I believd him — nor ever supposd like an assThat young Bedford saw thro a magnifying glass.So I walkd seven miles out & about me I lookAnd discover three inches in depth a foul brookCabbage leaves — broken eggs floating merrily downCats & dogs — the Pactolus⁴ of Carshalton town.Nor felt I inclind in the streetway to stripTo lay down on my face flat & so take a dip —We repaird to an alehouse there sat at our easeDrank a bottle of cyder & eat bread & cheese —Nescia mens hominis fate sortisque futuræ!⁵ Most true wrote the Mantuan bard⁶ I assure yeI laugh — talk — cut my crust & my carving knife grasp — justAs if the world had no such thing as a wasps nest.

Off we set — slow & gently as homeward we walkNow merrily laugh & now soberly talk —When all of a sudden I felt such a twitch workAs if Nicholas Senior had heated his pitch forkThen thrust in my legs this infernal hot lanceOn purpose to see me cut capers & dance —As I jumpd roard & ran & cryd louder & bolderI felt such another curst twitch in my shoulderSaw the wasps by ten thousands about me appearAnd crusht one preparing to sting my left ear.I ran like a tyger — I caperd like Vestris⁷ At last a small house my asylum of rest isWere I murderd what wasps were shut in with the doorAnd told my sad story & left off to roar.My poor legs they smarted — yet as I advancdI could not help laughing to think how I’d danced. Of this wasps nest enough — for one day shall the lyreTell how we destroyd a whole nation by fireTheir citadel stormd with each hot kind of evilSmoakd roasted & fireworkd the wasps to the devil.

Secundo — the midnight alarm — my dear LightfootGod grant you may never partake such a night-bout —Or if ever you should God grant I may be thereTo see how you’ll shiver & sweat — wink & stare —At half past ten o clock I repaird to my bedSnug & warm on my elbow I pillowd my headForgot all the toils I encounterd beforeAnd laid down with composure to sleep & to snoreBut here as the subject is graver you knowLet us alter our verse to the measures of woe.

Twas at the dark drear hour of night Twas Nights tremendous noon —Still was the earth save where some dog Bayd at the dim seen moon.
Save where the leathern bat flits by Or shrieks the lonely owlOr hoarse from distant yard was heard The angry watch dogs howl.
Save where the haggard witch appalls The listning ear of nightAnd circling round her mystic fire Invokes the hell born sprite.

Save that — Lightfoot my labor Ill save if you pleaseI was so fast asleep that I heard none of theseAnd in one line the business is just as well doneThe clock on the stairs had but lately struck one.

Sleep in his downy fetters bound My Reason willing slaveTill burst by terrors which had broke The fetters of the grave.

Along the passage soft I hear The passing footsteps goAs lightly with a cautious pace They traversd to & fro.

And thro the crannies of the door Appeard a glancing lightAnon twas still & darkness reignd — I trembled with affright.

Then low I heard a murmuring voice Unable to hear moreI start affrighted from my bed And Grosvenor taps my door —

Southey arise — haste quit your bed For John has just now seenFive men prepard to rob the house Upon the garden green.

My night shirt half way down my legs In snowy folds hung looseI slipt my dark brown breeches on And Mr Bedford shoes.

Then my far famd great coat flung on So like a Russian bear —My night cap helmd my head — my hand Displayd a broad swords glare.

Grosvenor a dreadful halbert wields No hand a weapon lacks —And Horace had to treat the men A pistol chargd with tacks

John loads again the gun in hast Then to the window ranTakes aim & fires — anon he cries “There there Ive hit the man.

And now in battle rank we pass And now we march down stairsAnd each in fearful hope looks round And each for fight prepares.

Twas silent all. the men are gone Thus each well weening said Upstairs we go pull off our cloaths And get again to bed.

But Sleep my pillow had forsook I turn & toss in vainAgain I hear the same alarm I hear the steps again.

Once more equippd I quit my bed And to the window ran —There as I lookd I thought I saw Upon the green a man.

The poultry cackled as disturbd By midnight robbers hand —Again I grasp the shining sword I rear the biting brand.

And now we pull our nightcaps off And now we hide the lightAnd anxious from the window seek To see amid the night

There there (says John) behold the men — And one of them just saidI heard him — as he saw the light — God — d-n them not in bed.

And there they are five men — now mind For Gods sake now take care —And two Welch women standing by A singing I declare!

What (Mr Bedford says) can you See two Welch women John?Yes — see them Sir & hear them sing A terrible bad song.

We listend now with all our ears To hear this song so bad —And Lightfoot we at last found out John was a little mad.

To bed we went — next morn we rise And laugh at what we’d dreadedBut John poor fellow lay upstairs Most sure enough light headed

For now he saw all Brunswicks troops⁸ Against the house advanceAnd now he heard the women sing And now he saw them dance.

Now let us sing God save us all From such tremendous harmsAnd may we never more be wakd At night by such alarms.

Now the midnight alarm my dear Lightfoot you’ve heardAct the second is done & now comes act the thirdAnd this twelve-footed verse like the chorus comes inTo keep up some connection against I begin — The Chorus — an excellent thought my dear friendAnd you’ll learn something from it if you will attend —Suppose then that I am a dozen old boysOr so many young maids whom the Poet employsTo moralize gravely & make a great noise.

Οιμοι οιμοι! Οτοττοτοι!⁹

O mortals short sighted So subject to harmsHow soon you’re affrighted At midnight alarms.

Thro Nights dull silence burst the soundTerror wavd her torch around — The black Erinnys¹⁰ roseEach viper hair points forth a venomd tongue —Tremendous the dissonance rung — So by their giant foesAffrayd when huge Briareus¹¹ stormd the sky —In many a lurking form the trembling Godheads fly.One was an owl & another an assOne like a cow fell to tucking in grass. Till Reason came. Minerva¹² rose — Phœbus¹³ felld his giant foes

Οιμοι οιμοι Οτοττοτοι! ¹⁴

But never shall pale fear — So scare the listening ear So make the palsied limbs afraidIf Pallas¹⁵ mighty Goddess lend her aid.

Daughter of Jove¹⁶ to thee we raise The never dying song of praise.Child of no mother born — thy influence lendCome thou our Goddess & our friend. List to our suppliant soundIllume our darkend eye — Come from that mournful groundWhere Athens now one heap of ruins lies! Quit thou the dreary spot Where Freedom is forgotWhere stern Oppression firms his iron chainsAnd Folly fills the soul & Superstition reigns.

The chorus is finishd you see my good friendAnd the tale of my breeches comes in at the end.

Temples & towers & palaces decay Times mighty hand unsparing levels allNo relic now of mighty Carthage stands And my canary breeches are too small!

Whilome in Virtues proudest state upreard Minervas city¹⁷ reard its laurelld headNow hurld in ruins by the hand of Time The broken battlements on earth are spread

Mid Tadmors waste¹⁸ exposd to many a storm Wild as his desart home the Arab straysAnd sees the mighty ruins towering bulk And lost in wonder casts the musing gaze.

Whatever mans vain hand uprears, decays — Time heeds nor beauty wisdom power or richesLays low the stately temple on the earth And makes me grow too big to fit my breeches.

Oh I remember well my friend that hour When hot with expectation forcd to wait —I deemd each passing man my breeches brought For much I dreaded they would come too late.

For to a ball me Fate inforcd to go Fate whose strong power all mortal force surpassesIn the new rooms at Bath she made me sit An untam’d colt amid a herd of asses.

Yes my canaries came & I rejoicd For much I loved the friends with whom I wentAnd in my new canaries neat & fine Tho’ at the ball a pleasant night I spent.

But never did I put those breeches on Breeches & waistcoat & exult the same —Since that rememberd Monday — till the hour When Grosvenor Charles Bedfords birth day came —

Not quite two years had past — & now with pain Scarce could I on the pretty breeches haulScarce could I button them around my waist For I was grown too big & they too small!

What a sad story there is! O my breeches my canaries!

Now Lightfoot my tragic adventures you’ve heardYou have seen all the acts, the first second & third —And now I had thought — thought alas found unableTo shut my poor Pegasus up in the stableAfter galloping walking & trotting so fastNow relapsd as you see to a canter at last —Tis an excellent beast — tho most fiery most humbleWho never endangers my neck by a tumble —Far better — believe me for truth I declareBetter mouthd better paced than my late mounted mareA mare whom I rode for a very long wayTho never to Sapey as you Lightfoot say —

News Lightfoot news news — news most mighty & bigMr Bedfords old sow is just ready to pig —And as I was proceeding the Hereford wayHe stopt & desird that I thus much would say —And so if you please we’ll lay by a while nowAnd just write a Pindaric to this famous sow.

Poor Sow — full many a peril hast thou past — Een at thy natal hour Thou scapedst the Parsons powerWhen the tenth lot for Sunday meal was cast.

Poor Sow — for Lightfoot Death scarce mist herWhen Doctor Halfpenny¹⁹ gave a clysterOh she was very very very bad — So bad the case appeard That much we feardNo succour could be had No skill could saveHapless Susina from the grave.

But now by hap cameThe famous Dr Halfpenny from Clapham. Her pulse he felt — He shook his head And sighing saidFor Pity the Physicians heart could melt. Alas alas All Pork is grass(And here he heavd a sigh)All sows are born to die(Yes Sow the she —And Southey me!)

The Doctor shook his unwiggd headThe Doctor sighd — the Doctor said —Poor Sow — Death clasps with eager fist her —I must administer a clyster —

Did you dear Lightfoot ever see Upon fair day A Scotchman on his bagpipes playTweedle dum & tweedle dee? Just so Id have you knowThe Doctor plac’d the bladder twixt his knees —The Patient sow was held & he began to squeeze.

Scard by the clyster Death releasd herThis Lightfoot was the sowThat in the straw is lying now.

Hail noble progeny I hearYour squeaking music in my ear — Most noble pigs for ever to be boasted! Hark — excellent sound The jack twirling round —I see the young pig ready roastedThe Pruin sauce fills the dish upOh Pig fit for a Bishop.

———

And now I’ve finishd this Pindaric odeOnce more I journey on my road.

With my Uncle I went all the country acrossTo Hereford Gloster & Kington & Ross.From Bristol alone I to join him set outA journey — ah would I could say; ills without — For once quite astray in the cross roads we ranOnce my breeches were wet as a sop in the pan.At Ledbury I calld — most unfortunate callFor at home my dear friend I found no one at allThis perhaps Seward mentioned & this you mistookWhen you thought that a journey to Sapey I took.To Sapey my friend we will journey togetherWhen Easter comes next spite of wind or of weatherOr if lazy as usual you linger at homeAlone oer the high hills to Sapey Ill roam.What is toil when it meets with so joyous an endWhat is labour that leads us to meet such a friend.As for Oxford — dear Lightfoot I cannot affirm Whether I shall or shall not reside the next termTo me it appears that most probably notAnd if so — why your letter shall not be forgot.Like a tempest torn ship on the billows of strifeMy little weak bark skims the ocean of life —Turns to each friendly haven with each friendly galeAnd before every wind spreads the full bellying sailAnd as Interest has placed no set market in viewInclination will pilot the vessel to you.

Robert Southey.

[remainder of the letter in the hand of Grosvenor Charles Bedford]

Dr Lightfoot

Southey has but half told his tale, & left me to finish it so if you have patience you may read the sequel in the following Pindaric.

Pindar saysΑριςογ μεν υδωρ.²⁰ say I Αριςογ μεν κλυςωρ²¹ With art unknown beforeSusina was cured of the gripesDescend oh muse & sayHow in a happy day The Κλυςωρ²² heal’d her tripes

But not as when from Chaos brought This earthly ball aroseAnd sprung obedient quick from noughtAs the 1st Chapter in the book of Genesis shows.

When blew the loud blast in the air So shrill so full of woeUnable such a noise to bear Down fell — Jericho²³ (And so would I if such a clang In a Parenthesis I put you see this,Through either of my ears had rang For I thank God have two And so I hope have you)

Not quite so quick the κλυςωρ²⁴ cured The pig who pain enduredFor several times the Doctor strove Without success the ill to move Here might be seen Dr Halfpenny Green, (For either name Means just the same) And here the patient beast Who did not wish Of such a dish To give her tail a feast.For though, if a sow has her belly well cramm’d.She cares not if every young pig should be damn’d,And her food she be ne’er seen to waste it, Yet Lightfoot you’ll find Amongst the pig kindThat they’ve great inclination to taste it. Which she could never do my friend If she was fed at the wrong end.And sows have not the power of Goût All the way through Any more than you.As once the Glutton prayed to haveWhose greedy stomach so did crave. That tho’ replete With savoury meatHis sumptuous supper doneHis relish yet remain’d the power to eat was gone.

When lowring low the tempests move And East & West the shrill winds rove The smoking rain descends Flash the Lightening’s forky fangs The yellow harvest bends Then sullen hoarse the Clouds amongIn interrupted peals the Thunder rolls alongAnd in the Echo lingering the faint vibration hangs.²⁵

Then rushing from on highUniting sea with skyBursts forth the water spout Just like the snoutOf some huge elephant who sucks upThe waters far & near & drinks the lowly brooks up

Lightfoot have you ever seen This spout so curious Foaming furious? No — you reply I ween.But you must know what sort of Gent It is that’s meant If not — do look Into some book Of natural HistoryLightfoot indeed you May take the CyclopaediaOr Chambers’s Dictionary.²⁶

Just such a rowMade our old sowFor when the Dr. had done squirtingSusina’s bowelNot liking GruelThe joke resolved upon retortingTo finish his workBy way of a corkHe clapt his thumbOn the sows ————And there for an hour he stoodApplying his forceTo stop up the courseAnd the flux of the floodBut all would not doFor as soon as he stir’dA dire rumbling was heardIn a minute or two Out flew What?Why all that was pent upAnd couped in her went up Piping hot.This retort from the rearCould the Doctor scarce bearSo sudden so fierce the attackAll over his cloathsHis eyes mouth & nose:He was thrown in the fright on his back.So perfumed so sweetHe then went to meetHis sweet heart our maid For this great son of Galen²⁷ Did not mind such a failing —These things being common in tradeThe next time howeverMore handy more clever His measures were takenThe work was soon doneAnd without any pun The sow sav’d her bacon.

Now comes the last actOf this marvellous factThe Doctor was willing This bill should be paid And the charges he madeGood leech! amounted to thirty shilling.

——————

There Lightfoot is a bellyfullFor you as well as the sowGod grant you patience & goodHealth prays yours

G. C. Bedford.

Sept. 30. 1793.