67. Robert Southey to Grosvenor Charles Bedford, 6–8 November 1793*

Wedn. Nov. 6th. 93.C Green. Brist.one o clock mid-day.

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Cut him off — cut him off — cut him off. Southey what?Have you lost all your senses? no. only my BOTT.He is gone — cut him off. level down my long nose —Guillotine this forerunner of mortal mans foesNot content on my carcase herafter to thriveWho resolvd to fall to & devour me alive.Root & branch he is gone. the last trace daily goesAnd I dare once again to the world show my nose.Cut him off — cut him off — that all good people may knowMy mountain of nose is no more a VolcanoAnd so my dear Grosvenor sublimely I pen thusTo Botts fame MONUMENTUM ÆRE PERENNIUS.¹

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My NOSE and the BOTT

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A pretty title, is it not?

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By critics it has long been held a maxim(Nor here of folly, Bedford, will I tax emThat if a man will write an epic Poem Twould be most rational To have the subject national, So that all may admire The heroes fierce fireWhen they for their countryman know him.

For as the Hottentot likes best Tripes trullibubs & guts instead of beadsTo hang & trickle down his oily breast. So every one that readsPrefers a Hero of his native landAnd would persuade himself to understandHe was his great-grandfathers coz at least.

To this rejoin in short I Omne solum patria forti.² On any dunghill a good cock will crow. And I would have it known That country is my ownWhereever Fate shall make me go.

The worlds my country. as the sage bespoke us.Numquam non potest esse virtuti locus³ Every good man no matter of what nationFrench English Turk or Jew is my relationAnd Joan of Arc,⁴ my countrywoman I stile herProud as of Hampden⁵ Milton & Wat Tyler.⁶

Now you my friend mistaking The meaning of all this exordium fineI dare swear a simili are making Comparing this to this famd Bott of mine. Excrescence odified excrescentlyBut I will prove this odeIs proper right & good Essentially

Tis but to show my learning I abuse Each critic mouldering on the cobwebbd shelfAnd then to prove how properly my Muse Shall celebrate my celebrated self.

Each pig dear Grosvenor likes his own stie best And Lightfoot loves his Pot.And so my friend have I addrest This ode delectable to my dead Bott.

Perhaps you think my friend This subject is too lowTo let the lyric Muse descend? No. No.No no I say & I will make appear noMy nose o Grosvenor typifies a hero.

As how, you say & — ask for information My nose (oh Nose of grace!) Is the most prominent feature of my face.And a hero is the nose of the nationThat often pours abroad his filthy floodAnd sometimes (very seldom) pours his blood.

As my nose turnd Volcano Collects the filth & venom of my head And grows Bardolphian⁷ redSo all that chuse it may knowVolcano-like a Hero still is brewinSome fatal storm of Fury Fire & Ruin

Oh may each bloody hero be forgotBe pluckd up root & branch & perish like my Bott.

O BOTT O Bott of Botts most famous hadst thou grown Upon the honourd Nose Of him who once will wear Britannias crown (My good friend Grosvenor knows I mean the Prince of Wales⁸ & who knows not) Hadst thou been there o Bott of celebration What spotted noses had oerspread the nation! The reasonable Muse with truth supposesWho poulticed up their necks had patchd their noses.

WHY LET THE GALLD JADE WINCE⁹ Ye apes of sore neckd prince.

O BOTT Hadst thou upreard thy yellow crowned headOn Charley Collins’ nasal ornament What ills had happened not!He surely would have sent The scout to Mr Skins¹⁰ & humbly said “Sir thus my master says“He has a sad eruption on his nose “And your permission prays“To keep his room till the eruption goes.

How often had the invalid aroseWrapt up in sleeping studying gown of greaseIn hopes to find some ease And lookd in fashiond mirror at his nose.Then had he shruggd his shoulders higher stillAnd for the Doctor sent & been extremely ill.

But oh thou Bott thou wouldst indeed have came wellUpon the snout of him yclept Horse Cambel For Cambel would have gone to Dr PeggeAnd made a pretty bow & smild & shownThe excrescence which upon his nose had grown And then proceeded his advice to beg

The Doctor then Gravely had told his patient twas his <a> wenAnd with his lance have cut some half yard under So nose or bott had made one preparation Which all the anatomists in every nationIn future days might see & stare & wonder

This hast thou lost o Bott by coming thusTo pimple one who did not care a curse For Botts or beauty or complection fairBut eat & drank & slept exceeding wellRegardless if the pimple rose or fellAnd scarcely conscious it was even there¹¹

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Thurs. Nov. 7.9 o clock at night a most unusual date for me Grosvenor. but my mind is full of indignation & I generally keep a sheet of paper in readiness for your benefit. I had dedicated this evening in idea to a serious versification to conclude this letter when an old woman arrived (or rather old Lady for it is wrong to profane the other name) arrived & spoilt my harmony of sentiment & your letter. scandal religion & loyalty made up the conversation of the evening. the former most ungrounded & illiberal. for loyalty — nothing could equal the crime of keeping the hat on whilst God save the King on <was sung> & to call a man a Democrat was more than synonimous to villain. I had been introduced in the morning at a house where I had long wishd an acquaintance. Mr H¹² the owner was pronounced a bad man of no principles & no religion. is he a good husband? the best of husbands. is he a good father? it is impossible to be a better. such were the answers I received & yet this man is bad & unprincipled. there <are> a set of females in this world who pique themselves upon going regularly to church & exult in the possession of a certain virtue which has not fallen because it never was attempted. whose whole conversation consists of the politics of a card table & that worst species of licentiousness indiscriminate scandal. these are the people who would exclaim so vehemently against Rousseau — who would bring faggots to an auto da fe & act with all the ferocity of Parisian Poissardes, in a worse cause if possible. with such a one have I wasted three hours — & now sick of the illiberality of virtue I am almost ready to turn champion for vice. society is in a very bad state — the inequalities between the sexes is dreadful. man may plunge in guilt of the most atrocious nature & not only escape uncensurd but in some degree derive estimation from his crimes — but woman, framd perhaps by nature of more delicate materials & exposd to more temptations if once she gives way to a very pardonable weakness is excluded from the pale of society as if infected with some disorder fatal to virtue. you remember a passage in Gillies¹³ upon this subject — very different indeed was the liberal philosophy of Greece from the illuminated Xtianity of Europe. for myself I think that infamy ought to be attached rather to our sex — whilst Man boasts of superior faculties can he claim priviliges for indulging appetites which it is the province of Reason to subdue? My dear friend Man is the most inconsistent of animals — he despises woman when fallen & yet employs every artifice to ruin her. many a villain far more infamous than the Conventionists is respected & courted in this kingdom — whilst there are women worn out with famine & disease the hireling victims of brutal appetites who might have communicated happiness to that small circle in which the truest happiness is to be found. my dear Grosvenor I often reflect that there are women in the streets of London who might have made you & I happy — & I never see the leer of vice upon a beautiful face without feeling the heart ache pitying human nature & damning society.

you will wonder at this kind of rhapsody from me perhaps, but you will perhaps <certainly> agree with me in wishing society better. why is the door to Repentance every avenue to Repentance shut up but that of Infamy? were men what they ought to be — Rousseau would be canonized for a greater saint than any in the calendar. read his Julia & tell me whence may we learn the most instructive lesson from the mistress of St Preux¹⁴ or the temptation of St Anthony.¹⁵ my comparison of the Man of Nature with Richardson¹⁶ would have been branded with the epithets of immoral atheistical & licentious. Clodius accuset moechos!¹⁷ Xtianity is less understood & less practised in this country than in the desarts of Arabia! let him who is innocent cast the first stone¹⁸ was the judgement of the most moral of philosophers, to use no superior title.

we will have a paper & so reform the world — till like a bad patient it throws the prescription behind the fire.

good night.

Friday. N. 8.

I have written half an ode this morning. the death of Joshua.¹⁹ no bad companion to the Death of Odin.²⁰ if there were not less faith than truth in the comparison. In fact the two characters are very similar — Odin passed himself for a God & Joshua, tho he had miracles at command was more modest. “down fell Jericho — I may catch some sparks perhaps from that flames of sublimity which blazes in your pindaric upon the Sow & the Κλυςωρ,²¹ but as Cicero²² says who lights a stranger lanthern from his own, gives him light without diminishing his own. you shall have Joshua in my next but you must deserve it by a prior communication. our last letters past each other but you have received three & only sent two. when some of our heirs shall see my letters to you they will think I had no time for any other employment, & most probably burn them without reading & keep the more valuable case for their own letters on business or house keeping accounts. perhaps my large desk may be turned into a receptacle for quack medicines conserves &c & the good housewife may tear up my papers to keep the meat from roasting — as far as in me lies, I will prevent this — you shall have copies of them in my life & all at my death. this concern is trifling & I am ashamed of it. Nam si (quod nostræ rationes crede vetant) toti moriuntur homines, nulla est omnino gloria, cum is, cujus ea esse dicitur, non exstet omnino. sin vero sibi mens bene conscia terreno carcere resoluta, cælum libera petit, nonne terrenum omne negotium spernet que cælo fruens terrenis se gaudet exemptam?²³ yet Boethius inserted this very sentiment in a work which he intended for immortality. would not this subject make a good paper — immortality desired for its own sake is but a splendid failing but to seek it by benefitting others is not only innocent but laudable. our old minstrels had this merit. & tho the Allegory may accuse the classical judgement of Spenser it does honour to his heart.

I have plenty of employment. Jepthahs vow²⁴ — Zaleucus the Locrian lawgiver²⁵ & the death of Hypatia²⁶ strike me as good dramatic subjects — the first & last with a chorus. then comes the Slaves a fine wild subject. transcribing Joan. reading & rat catching — odes & epistles — Madoc²⁷ (which by the by I could wish you to undertake & you shall have plenty of materials) Sir Persicles²⁸ — cleaning leather breeches — my theatre — & your letters no inconsiderable part of my amusement

yrs most sincerelyRS.

my compliments to Mr & Mrs Deacon &c. tell me how Hyder died “Each dog must have his day”.²⁹

I have run foul of another wasps nest — but escaped unhurt. poor Shad is very ill. so if all goes wrong with you tis not much better here.³⁰

you see I had so filld the sheet that it could not be folded up — so I must een put it in a cover — it will make no difference.

you have neglected to send my comb comb brush boots greatcoat & the great paper for your own letters — what else is left behind I have not discoverd. do my good friend write an invocation to Memory & send me. I am doomd to be pesterd by wasps — the other day I was posting to my case to sit half an hour in the sun & eat blackberries — I had got within five yards & found a thousand devils with stings in their tails flying about me — like a prudent general when it was impossible to advance I retreated — now were not this so far off & were poor Shad well we would sally forth & exterminate the invaders — you will be puzzled to read all this properly as much as I am to fill up these few lines —

I wrote to CC yesterday & again inserted that ever memorable line — altering it however to Pretty Pipe & Pretty Grange — an alteration not for the better — but rhyme more able rhyme!

make my respects to all the good family. Hope the Doctor is well — ³¹