Chapter VIII: Travel and International Friendships, 1788-89-90

The Wool Bill—Sheridan’s speech—Count Berchtold—Experiments—Second
French journey—Potato-fed sheep—Cost of
housekeeping—Chicory—Burnt in effigy—Correspondence—Third French
journey—With Italian agriculturists—Bishop Watson and Mr.
Luther—Correspondence—Literary work—Illness—The state of France.

Early in the spring I was deputed by the wool growers of Suffolk to support a petition against the Wool Bill[121] which at that time made much noise in the agricultural world; and in which I united with Sir Joseph Banks,[122] who was deputed by the county of Lincoln for the same purpose. I was most strenuous in the cause. By this Bill the growers of wool were laid under most insufferable restraints by its patrons the manufacturers, under the false pretence which had upon so many occasions been listened to by the Legislature, that immense quantities of wool were smuggled to France; on the gross fallacy of which they made good use, in taking those measures which answered their only design, that of sinking the price.

I applied to many of the leading members of both Houses of Parliament, but to very little effect. Those who deputed me were very desirous that I should see Mr. Fox on the subject; and Sir Peter Burrell, who was also greatly hostile to the Bill, and acted at that time as Lord Great Chamberlain of England at the trial of Mr. Hastings, recommended me to take an opportunity of the managers for the Commons, waiting at that trial to desire to speak with Mr. Fox in the manager’s box; and with this view gave me a pass ticket for the whole trial, by means of which I could be at the bar ready to serve such an opportunity when it offered. These tickets were sold at twenty guineas each; and this afforded me many opportunities of much entertainment. I accordingly saw Mr. Fox, and found him by no means inclined to patronise any opposition to the Bill. All that could be done was to make him a master of certain important facts of which he was ignorant, and which did seem to have some little weight with him. It may here be observed that as I was walking one day in Fleet Street with my pass ticket and a 20_l._ note in my pocket book, I was hustled unskilfully by a knot of rascals, who picked the book out of my pocket, but I missing it instantly, luckily observed it on the pavement near my foot, and seized on it immediately, and the rascals went off at once. By means of this ticket I was present when Mr. Sheridan made the speech that rendered his eloquence so celebrated.[123] I was examined at the Bar of the Houses of Lords and Commons, and published two pamphlets on the subject of the Wool Bill.

But notwithstanding all the opposition that was made to the measure, after moderating some of the most hostile clauses the Bill passed; but the manufacturers experienced so determined and vigorous an opposition that they would hardly engage again in any similar attack upon the landed interest. In the course of this business I experienced a strange instance of roguery in an Ipswich attorney named Kirby. This man was appointed secretary and receiver of the Suffolk subscriptions for supporting the expense of opposing the Bill. He paid the reckoning twice at the ‘Crown and Anchor’ when a few persons dined there; and after that, under various pretences, when money was to be paid; and on a moderate computation put more than 100_l._ into his own pocket. I was unwilling to believe it, but upon his death a few years after it was found that he was one of the greatest knaves the devil ever created.

My deputation by the county of Suffolk to represent it, in opposing the Bill at the bar of the two Houses of Parliament, in the same manner as Sir Joseph Banks, a highly eminent character for influence and affluence, was deputed by the county of Lincoln, did me much honour, and shows that a prophet may sometimes be esteemed, even in his own country. The reader who is desirous of becoming acquainted with this portion of the history of wool in England may consult my Question of Wool—my speech that might have been spoken—my Reasons against the Bill, and various other papers by myself, inserted in the ‘Annals.’

The opposition certainly would have been successful if Mr. Pitt had not found what so many ministers have experienced before—that the trading interest at large is a hundred times more active than the landed interest; for very few counties exerted themselves on this occasion. Had half of them acted like Suffolk the Bill would have been inevitably lost, and had I not been a resident in Suffolk that county would have slept with the rest. It may not be amiss to observe that a pamphlet was published, entitled a ‘Letter to Arthur Young, Esq., on the Wool Bill, by Thomas Day,[124] Esq.,’ from which the following is an extract:—

‘If we are delivered from the present danger, I know no one who
has so great a claim to the public gratitude as yourself. As soon
as the storm began to gather, your active eye remarked the curling
of the waters and the blackening of the horizon, while all our
other Palinuruses were quietly slumbering around. Distinguished,
therefore, as you long have been for literary talents, you have
now added a nobler wreath, and a sublimer praise to all you
merited before.’ Mr. Day in this letter calls my opposition to the
Bill ‘A noble stand in defence of the common liberties.’

‘_April 22._—I was examined on the Wool Bill in the House of Commons. It was a most hard-fought battle between the manufacturers and the landed interest; the Bill laid heavy shackles on every movement of wool near the sea coast, and was opposed with great resolution, both by Sir Joseph Banks and myself.

‘We opposed it both in the Commons and the Lords, both being examined at the Bar of the two Houses; the manufacturers on this occasion were so hotly opposed that Sir Joseph thought they would be quiet in future. I was of a different opinion, being convinced that they never would omit any opportunity of imposing their shackle on that insensible, torpid, and stupid body “the landlords of Britain.”’

About this time Count Leopold Berchtold[125] visited me at Bradfield. But part of the time which he spent in Suffolk (I being absent) was at the ‘Angel’ at Bury, where he lived an extraordinary life of retirement and economy. He daily went out, and employed the whole day in writing and reading. Such temperance has scarcely been known. He drank neither wine nor beer, and would dine upon a potato or an egg.

He told the landlord of that inn that he could not live in the manner of other travellers, but that he might charge what he pleased for his apartments. He was a most extraordinary personage. His father had a considerable estate in Bohemia, and one reason for the son’s travelling over a great part of the world was the extreme disgust he took at the measures of the Emperor Joseph II., which were oppressive and ruinous to the nobility &c., constantly changing his ill-formed political schemes. He had lived in the principal countries of Europe long enough to become a master of their languages, in every one of which he printed a work which he conceived might be useful to the inhabitants. When at Bradfield he was working hard to learn Arabic, as he proposed passing from England to Morocco, thence to Egypt and Arabia. This journey afterwards he executed, and returned home to Bohemia through the greatest part of the Turkish Empire; and, after escaping a thousand dangers, as he was going to Vienna was murdered by banditti.

He was very tall and graceful in his person, of a handsome, expressive countenance, and as elegant as if he had passed his whole life in a Court. Though invested with the Order of St. Stephano by the Grand Duke of Tuscany, Leopold, he never wore it in England, as his father being alive made it necessary for him to live economically. His conversation was intelligent and pleasing, his knowledge almost universal. He travelled much on foot; and once through France or Germany—I forget which—when he was beset by three or four robbers; but he assumed so much firmness in his manner, with so resolute and determined an air, and with so threatening an attitude of defence, that, after a pause, the robbers retired, thinking it best to let him alone. He had a sabre or some other weapon, and said that they might have had the worst of it if they had made the attack, as he had before been set on in the same way more than once.

His first business in every country was to study unremittingly till he had perfectly learnt the language, as without this he considered men and women but as cows and sheep. He then applied himself with singular assiduity to understand those branches of human industry or political economy for which the country was most celebrated, and for this purpose applied to those who were most able to satisfy his inquiries. He was introduced to me by Anthony Souga, the Imperial Consul at London, who gave him the highest possible character. When he had registered these inquiries and printed a book in the language, he left the country for some other.

The grand object of Ct. B.’s investigations and inquiries seemed to be not so much the good of the countries he visited, as to possess himself of a great mass of that sort of knowledge which might be most useful in adding to the welfare and happiness of the inhabitants of that estate to which he was born, and which was a very extensive property. He spent some time with me in Suffolk gleaning agricultural information, intending to apply it to the farmers and peasants of his paternal estate and of his own favourite Bohemia, from which he often lamented that he was driven by the folly and tyranny of Joseph II. It was with great concern that I heard of his very unfortunate and untimely death about ten years after leaving England. He was about thirty-six years of age when in Suffolk, was possessed of various and uncommon powers, built mentally and bodily on a great scale, talked English like a native, walked like a giant, and was of all the multitude of foreigners who frequented my house the most persevering and the most intelligent.

This year I made some experiments on the distemper in wheat called the smut, which were amongst the most satisfactory and decisive that I ever found, and in which I corrected some errors of Mr. de Tillet,[126] and proved, too clearly to be doubted, the proximate cause and prevention of that disease.

It is almost intolerable, after experiments so decisive, that so many men, through ignorance of what I had done, should for a long time have been bewildering themselves upon the same subject, and continuing to do so to the present day, publishing, too, the greatest errors. These experiments are inserted in the ‘Annals.’

This year I set out on my second journey to France in the month of July. I made this alone, my cloak-bag behind me; and I did not travel thus an[127] hundred miles before my mare fell blind. I have heard and read much of the pleasure of travelling; how it may be with posting—_avant-couriers_ preparing apartments and repasts—I know not. Let those who enjoy such comfort pity me, who made 3,700 miles on a blind mare! and brought her (humanity would not allow me to sell her) safe back to Bradfield. I claim but one merit—that of practising in the midst of all this folly the severest economy in travelling.

In the winter Mr. Macro took a seat in my postchaise on a farming tour across Essex and into Sussex, where we spent a day or two with Lord Sheffield.

In this tour I learned that General Murray had 4,000 South Down sheep, and that he fed them with potatoes. This was sufficient. To come into the country on the search for sheep and potato intelligence, and not to see such a man, would not be to make a very wise figure when we returned home. But I had not the honour to be known to the General. No matter; 4,000 sheep fed on potatoes were an object before which form must give way. I wrote a card, stating our pursuit, and wishes to have it gratified, desiring leave to view his flock. Those who know the General’s liberality and passion for agriculture will not want to be told what the answer was. We spent five days in his house, and found it the residence of hospitality and good sense.

Mrs. Murray had resided nine years in the island of Majorca, being the daughter of the English consul. She gave me many particulars relating to that island, and, among others, that the climate was by far the finest she had ever experienced. She never was for a single hour either too hot or too cold, nor ever saw a fog; but the people were unpleasant, ignorant and bigoted.

I was always very regular in keeping accounts, but do not often mention them in this detail; I may, however, just observe that I seemed to have been no bad economist, as the total expense of house, garden, stable, servants, and keeping a postchaise with not a little company, cost in four months 97_l._ 2_s._ 3_d._, or at the rate of 291_l._ 6_s._ 9_d._ per annum; how it was done I forget. If such an expense be compared with the present times[128] it will show the enormous difference, arising principally from the desperate increase of taxation, which has crippled so many classes of the kingdom; but I had a large farm in my hands. On being at London, some time after, I went to Esher and spent a day with Mr. Ducket, examining his farm with great attention; he dined with me at the ‘Tun,’ and I had a very interesting conversation with him to a late hour, upon all the points of his husbandry.

In this year I first introduced the cultivation of Cichorium Intybus[129] at Bradfield, and registered it in the ‘Annals of Agriculture;’ it was at first upon a small scale, but sufficient to convince me of the vast importance of the plant. I brought the seed from Lyons in France, and gradually extended the culture till I had above one hundred acres of it; the utter stupidity of the farming world was never more apparent than in their neglect of this plant, so repeatedly recommended in the ‘Annals.’ The Duke of Bedford kept ten large sheep per acre on a field of it.

The following letters were among others received this year:—

From B. H. Latrobe, Esq., on my being burnt in effigy at Norwich by the manufacturers (_in re_ Wool Bill), a very lively letter.

‘Stamp Office, Somerset Place: May 22, 1788.

‘Dear Sir,—We have been waiting for your arrival in town
_patiently_ for the week past, and I am afraid we must now make up
our minds to wait _patiently_ a great deal longer, as the passing
of the Wool Bill has not been able to bring you to town. By the
word _We_ I mean my brother, our friend the lord of slaves,[130]
myself, and I dare say it includes fifty other people whom I have
not the honour of knowing. We have been three days past laying our
heads together to find out some method of _doing you honour in
effigy_ in order to make up to you in some measure the disgrace
you have undergone (as is creditably reported about town) of being
burnt in effigy by the wool manufacturers at Bury. My brother is
for procuring your effigy, and after having crowned it with a
wreath composed of turnip roots, cabbage leaves, potato-apples,
wheat-ears, oats, straws, &c., and tied with a band of wool,
thinks it ought to be placed upon its pedestal (being the volume
of Virgil’s “Georgics”) to be worshipped by the real patriots; Mr.
Huthhausen thinks a plain ribbon a sufficient honour for a man
whose ideas can admit of the belief of slavery in Silesia; and, as
for myself, I am of opinion that a man whose life has been devoted
without fee or reward to the service of the public has so great a
reward arising from the consciousness of having done good, and so
just a claim to honour, that I shall not trouble my head about
methods to _increase it_. But I must beg your pardon for this
lady-like chat, though your having been burnt in effigy is enough
to make any pen run wild.... I could wish that a favour I have to
beg of you were not inconvenient.’

[The writer requests that some remarks of his own on the book named above may be inserted in the ‘Annals.’]

From Edmund Burke, Esq., on an application I made to him relative to the Wool Bill. [_Unfortunately no copy can be found of this letter._]

Sir Joseph Banks gives me joy of being burned in effigy at Norwich (Bury?) on account of my opposition to the Wool Bill:—

‘Soho Square: May 13, 1788.

‘Dear Sir,—With this you will receive the “Instructions given to
the Council against the Wool Bill.”[131]

‘I have corrected the whole, but I fear you will find it miserably
deficient in point of composition, but as I am not ambitious on
that head I mean to be satisfied if I am intelligible.

‘I give you joy sincerely at having arrived at the glory of being
burned in effigy; nothing is so conclusive a proof of your
possessing the best of the argument. No one was ever burned if he
was wrong—the business in that case is to expose his blunders—but
when argument is precluded firebrands are ready substitutes.

‘Believe me, dear Sir,
‘Yours faithfully,
‘J. BANKS.’

1789.—I had yet work to do in France; the survey of that kingdom was not completed in the journeys of the two preceding years. I did not hesitate therefore, but as soon as business at home would permit me to be absent I set out on my third expedition, June 2, and went to Paris in the diligence. As the carrying specimens of remarkable soils and of manufactures, wool, &c. was so inconvenient, I made this journey in a chaise. Through the kindness of the Duchess d’Estissac (de Rochefoucauld) I was most agreeably received at the Hôtel de la Rochefoucauld, and as the States General were assembling I went thither to the Duke’s apartment, where I met many persons of note, such as the Duke of Orleans, the Abbé Sieyès, Rabaut St. Étienne,[132] &c. and was present at an interesting debate in the National Assembly. I spent some time at Paris, which I quitted on my third journey on June 28. I felt much regret on taking leave of my excellent friend Monsieur Lazowski, whose anxiety for the fate of his country[133] made me respect his character as much as I had reason to love it for the thousand attentions I was in the daily habit of receiving from him. My kind protectress the Duchess d’Estissac had the goodness to make me promise that I would again return to her hospitable hotel when I had finished the journey.

At Toulon I sold my horse and chaise, as I had been informed that I could not thus travel with safety in Italy. I embarked at Toulon to save one or two stages, which gave me an opportunity of viewing the fine harbours of that port. On leaving Nice I went by a _vetturino_ to Turin, and was fortunate in making the acquaintance of some of the gentlemen that accompanied me. At that capital I was introduced to various lovers of the plough, and received much valuable information. From this place I went to Milan, where through the kind attentions of the Abate[134] Amorette, a true lover of agriculture and a friend of its professors, I was introduced to a variety of persons who afforded me much intelligence and accompanied me to the seat of the Count di Castiglioni, sixteen miles north of the city, with whom I passed sufficient time to give me an opportunity of remarking the country life of an Italian nobleman of high consideration.

From Milan I went to Lodi through one of the finest scenes of irrigation in the world. At the latter place I assisted in the whole operation of making a Lodesan, called Parmesan cheese in England, and thereby learnt a few circumstances in that manufacture, which I afterwards applied with success in making cheese in Suffolk. At Lodi I attended the opera, where the Archduke and Archduchess with the most splendid company were present, and it gave me particular pleasure to find such a house so filled in a little town quite dependent on cows, butter and cheese.

At Bergamo I was electrified by the fine eyes of an Italian fair, and just as I was making a nearer approach, impeded in it by the sudden appearance of her husband.

At Verona I viewed its celebrated amphitheatre and gained some agricultural intelligence, then on to Vicenza and Padua, where I stayed some days, having introductions to several professors, then by the canal to Venice, where I employed several days in viewing that singular place and numberless curiosities to be found in it. It fully answered my expectations.

At Bologna I was so fortunate as to meet Mr. Taylor, of Bifrons, in Kent, with his very agreeable family. By him I was introduced to such of the nobility of the place as had a taste for farming, which, with some excursions in the vicinity, enabled me to understand the agriculture of the district.

Thence I travelled to Florence, where my time was divided between agriculture and the Tribuna, that is, between Farmers and Venuses.

I was here introduced to many celebrated characters and to others able to give me valuable agricultural information. At home we had a very pleasant party, and abroad our eyes were feasted with all that Art or Science could produce.

Quitting Turin [on the return journey] I joined company with Mr. Grundy, a considerable merchant, from Birmingham. We crossed over Mont Cenis on our route to Lyons.[135]

During the winter of this year I met Dr. Watson several times at my friend Symonds’, and shall here copy a private note I made on that celebrated character.

I was well acquainted with him for some years before he was made a Bishop as well as long after. Nor is it strange that I should be assiduous in cultivating a connection with a man of such extraordinary powers, who had a most peculiar felicity in bringing all the stores of a richly furnished mind to bear as occasion required in conversation. His memory was wonderfully retentive, and he had the art of speaking upon subjects with which he was not well acquainted without betraying any ignorance. He had a clear, logical head, great promptness of application, and the utmost fluency of expression, but sometimes with an affectation of enunciation in a delicate manner which did not at all become the native sturdiness of his disposition. He had a mathematical calculating head, which enabled him readily to apply scientific researches to the ordinary purposes of life. His style was always uncommonly perspicuous. The King once said to him, ‘I know not how it is, my Lord, but when I read any of your publications I am never for one moment at a loss for your meaning, whereas in reading the works of other very able men their want of clearness often makes me doubtful.’ ‘Sir,’ replied the Bishop, ‘we are very assiduous at Cambridge to study Euclid and Locke.’ Almost from being made a Bishop he became a disgusted man, because he never could procure a translation, and it was supposed that the Queen was influenced against him by Bishop Porteus, who had not so high an opinion of him as many others. He was once speaking to Porteus in praise of Locke’s ‘Reasonableness of Christianity,’ and said in the course of conversation, ‘I presume, my Lord, you are of the same opinion.’ But Porteus, who had not been able to get in a word for some time, with a firmness not perhaps common with him when conversing with such a man as Watson, said, ‘Indeed, my Lord, I am quite of a different opinion’—then left the room abruptly.

Watson disapproved of his daughter learning Latin, but was very assiduous to procure her translations of the Classics. Upon coming to the University, or not long after, he found himself very deficient in Classical learning, and applied to recover lost time with indefatigable attention. He was tutor to Mr. Luther, of Essex, at Cambridge, and was useful to him in the great contested election for that county. Soon after, Luther, as was supposed from motives of economy, went to France, and, in his absence, some malignant reports were spread to his disadvantage. Watson saw the great importance of trampling upon them immediately; not trusting to any correspondence, he went to Paris, and represented to him the necessity of instantly returning and showing himself in every company that was possible. Luther felt the propriety of the advice, and directly returned with the Doctor, whose conduct upon this and many other occasions made such an impression on his mind that he left him a good estate in the very heart of the Earl of Egremont’s at Petworth, so that part of it joined not only the park, but the garden. To purchase this estate was a very great object to Lord E., and the Bishop, not liking to ask too high a price in the years’ purchase for the land, made a valuation of a great quantity of young timber on what would be the future value of the trees, and by this means contrived to have a very great price for the estate. It was too great an object to Lord E. to be refused; but the Bishop did not escape without censure.

Count Leopold Berchtold published this year his ‘Hints to Patriotic Travellers,’ which in a very handsome manner he dedicated to me. My correspondence was somewhat numerous. I could give a long list, but shall only mention the following:—

From Count Bukaty, Polish Ambassador, invitation from the King of Poland.[136]

‘Holles Street: May 27, 1789.

‘Sir,—I acquit myself of my old debt of gratitude which I owe you
in returning my sincere thanks for all the kindness which my
nephew has experienced from you and your family during his
residence at Bradfield Hall. I left him in Poland to spread your
name and superior merit, which is already so well known and justly
admired all over Europe. Your well-deserved fame reaching his
Majesty the King of Poland, and his brother, the Prince Primate,
makes them wish to see you once in that country, whose natural
riches consisting in agriculture might be essentially improved by
your transcendent knowledge therein. It was already their
intention to establish there a Society of Agriculture, had it not
been for the present political circumstances, which necessarily
take up all their time and attention. I would be exceedingly
happy, Sir, when you will be present in Town in order to have some
conversation with you on the subject. In the meantime, I take the
liberty to ask your favour in informing me where I could get the
machine for separating corn from chaff, whereof the drawing was
brought to Poland by my nephew?

‘I have the honour to be, with the greatest respect,

‘Sir, your most obedient, &c.,
‘F. BUKATY,
‘Envoy Extraordinary of Poland.’

_From Dr. Burney_

‘Chelsea College: Oct. 20, 1789.

‘My dear Friend,—I have begged a corner of this sheet from your
daughter Bessy to congratulate you on your safe arrival on
Classic ground after the perils and dangers of Gothic ground.
How insipid will the history of the present times in this last
country render all other history! And what weight will it not
give to what has been long called the history of Fabulous times!
The Poissardes are but the Amazons of the present day, and the
leaders at the attack of the Bastille the Hercules and Theseus.
The fetching the King, Queen, and Royal Family from Versailles,
and the total demolition of the ancient government of the
Kingdom, have no type in history or fable, ancient or modern.
The nobles and clergy indiscriminately stripped of their honours
and property, not to give it to others of the same rank and
class, but to the mob, who are helping themselves to whatever
they like, and destroying whom and what is not honoured with
their approbation in a more successful and effectual way than
our Wat Tyler or Jack Straw ever intended, and which would have
astonished even J. J. Rousseau had he been living, in spite of
his ideas of an _égalité de condition_. But whether a totally
levelling scheme can be rendered permanent in a great Empire or
no, time, not experience, can show. I used to think _la loi des
plus forts_ only existed among savages, and that in Society
there were tall minds as well as tall bodies, but none such have
as yet appeared in France. But let us talk of Italy, where I
found no want of tall minds, even in these degenerate days. I am
glad you seem to like the farming of the Milanese. I was
particularly struck with it all through Lombardy, and think you
will find even among the peasantry shrewdness, industry, and
ingenuity. In all the great cities I found philosophers,
mathematicians, and scholars, as well as musicians; these last,
indeed, make more _noise_ in the world, and, being travellers,
spread their own fame into remote countries, while the drone and
scientific part of a nation are seldom heard of out of the walls
of their colleges or towns till after their decease. Indeed,
almost all those I knew personally nineteen years ago in Italy
are now no more! Padre Boccaria at Turin, Padre Boscovich at
Milan, and Padre Sacchi. This last, I believe, is still living.
But Count Firmian is dead, to whom I and every English traveller
was much obliged by his hospitality and kindness. You probably
owe the same obligation to his successor, with whose name even I
am unacquainted. If you go to Padua you will probably stop at
Verona, where there are always men of learning and science. But
you must not judge of the present state of musick in any part of
Italy unless you remain there during the Carnival. At other
times (except at the great fairs) the principal theatres are
shut, and the others supplied with such riff-raff as our
Sadler’s Wells during summer. If Guadagni had been living, you
would have him at Padua, and if I had not engaged him to the
Pantheon, Pachierotti, whom we expect here in a few days. Pray
go to the church of Sant’ Antonio on a festival; there Tartini
used to lead and Guadagni sing. If Padre Valetti is living, the
Maestro di Capella, pray present my compliments to him and
enquire after the sequel of his Treatise. I have as yet only
seen the first part. I likewise beg to be remembered to Signor
Marsili, the Professor of Botany, and Padre Columbo, the
Professor of Mathematics: the first was some time in England and
speaks our language; the second was the great friend of Tartini,
and left in possession of all his manuscript papers. Enquire
what is become of them, and try to get intelligence of the
disposal of Padre Martini’s papers, books, and sequel of his
‘History of Musick’ at Bologna. Enquire likewise when you meet
with intelligent musical people what are the defects of the
newest and best of the great Italian theatres. No plan is, I
believe, as yet adopted for rebuilding ours. Le Texier has a
model made with many conveniences and more magnificence than our
former theatre could boast, but whether it will be adopted, or
whether it is to be wished that a Frenchman should ever have the
management of an Italian opera, I know not. However partial he
or his countrymen may seem to German and Italian musick, I know
by long observation that they are totally ignorant of, and
enemies to, _good singing_, without which what are the two or
three acts of an opera but intermezzi or act tunes to the
ballets? I perceive, however, that, amidst all the horrors of
Paris, they suffer Italian operas to be performed in Italian and
by Italians, which were never allowed before, except at
Versailles; but these are only burlettas; serious operas so
performed might have some effect on the national taste in
singing. But les Dames des Halles, their excellencies _Mesdames
les Poissardes_, furnish them with “other fish to fry” at
present; so I shall say no more of France, but that I pity most
sincerely every honest man who has the misfortune to be resident
in that distracted kingdom.

‘God bless you, my dear Sir, and give you health and spirits to
enjoy your rational and useful enquiries.

‘CHARLES BURNEY.’

[The following extracts from Arthur Young’s letters home, and letter to his darling Bobbin, then aged five, are worth giving. With very slight excisions all letters to his daughter Mary are incorporated in the ‘French Travels.’]

‘_Lyons, Dec. 28, 1789._—Symonds says Arthur has set off very well
at Cambridge, which I am very glad to hear. God send him
understanding enough to know the value of these four years there,
which are either lost absolutely or applied to the amelioration of
all his life after. French and Italian or German after four years
at Cambridge may qualify it for anything.’

From another letter to the same:—

‘I found here your Mother’s two letters, of which I can hardly
make head or tail; according to custom they are so cross written
and so crammed and topsy-turvy, that, like the oracles of old,
they may be made to speak whatever is in the reader’s head, alley
croaker (sic) or “Paradise Lost” are all one.’

From a third letter, dated Florence, November 18, 1789:—

‘I received here a letter from you, and two from your Mother;
yours is dated October 17, one of hers the 30th, the other no
date, and not a word of Bobbin in it. What a way of writing, and
this to a man 1,400 miles from home. I am greatly concerned for
Mr. Arbuthnot, though his silence made him dead to us from the
time he went to Ireland. I never knew a family which was the
centre of every mild and agreeable virtue so shattered into
nothing by a man’s failure. I have long and often regretted that
period.... I took 100l. with me, and it lasts exactly six months,
buying books included.... Good night. Thank God, Bobbin is well;
give her a kiss.’

_To his youngest Daughter, Martha (Bobbin)_

‘Moulins: August 7, 1789.

‘My dear Bobbin,—I fully expected to have heard from Mary here,
and to have known how my dear little girl does, but I was much
disappointed and found no letter from England.

‘I think it high time to enquire of you how you pass your
time—what you do—how Mr. Mag (the pony) does, and the four
kittens; I hope you have taken care of them and remembered your
Papa wants cats. Do the flowers grow well in your garden? Are you
a better gardener than you used to be? The Marq. de Guerchy’s
little girls have a little house on a little hill, and on one side
a little flower garden, and on the other side a little kitchen
garden, which they manage themselves and keep very clean from
weeds—Bobbin would like much to see it.

‘I have passed through perils and dangers, for a part of the
country is infested by 800 plunderers in arms, yet have burnt in
only one district near Mâcon twelve chateaus; but I am now passed
the worst and hope to escape at last with whole bones. I have a
passport, and am carried to the Bourgeois guard at all the towns.

‘Pray, my little girl, take care, and keep clear from weeds the
row of grass I sowed in the round garden, on right hand about ten
yards long, but don’t take up anything like grass. And if the two
willows which I brought last year 1,000 miles from France are
alive yet, give them some water; one is by the hole, and the other
by Arthur’s garden—I made little mounds around them. You do not
know, my little Bobbin, how much I long to have a walk with you at
Bradfield. It is a sad thing I have no letter here; I shall have
none till Clermont. I desire a particular account of my farm to be
sent here.

‘I have been ill from heat and fatigue, and had a sore throat, but
by care and an antiseptic diet I am now, thank God, quite well.

‘What do you think of the French at such a moment as this with a
free press? yet in this capital of a great province there is not
(publickly) one newspaper to be seen; at a coffee house, where
twenty tables for company, not one. What blessed ignorance. The
Paris m—— have done the whole, and are the only enlightened part
of the K——.

‘Adieu, my dear B.
‘I am, yours affectionately,
‘A. Y.’

[In a note A. Y. writes:]

‘I found Madame la Comtesse de Guerchy a very pleasant, agreeable
woman, and among other trifles which occurred at their house was
an expedition into the kitchen to teach me to make an omelette,
the operation attending which occasioned no little merriment both
in the kitchen and parlour. I succeeded pretty well.’[137]

1790.—All this summer I was employed in preparing my [French] Travels for the press. In October I had a violent fever, which brought me to the brink of the grave. I made a minute of that illness in the following words: ‘From almost the bed of death, it pleased the Divine Goodness to raise me up, and I remember it was in perfect hardness of heart and free from all true or grateful feelings. I was in a state of blindness and insensibility, on which I reflect with horror and amazement.’[138]

I cannot speak of the ingratitude of my heart to God at this period but in the strongest terms, as it amounted to a degree of insensibility quite unaccountable. I fear that not one thought of God ever occurred to me at that time, and I doubt whether [it was so], while one evening I had resumed the habit of prayer, that is, of those formal prayers which an unconverted person may repeat without any real devotion; and yet during my delirium the physician afterwards told me that I one day broke forth into one of the most eloquent and sublime prayers he ever heard, to his utter astonishment.

]

During my recovery I wrote that melancholy review of my past life, which is printed in the ‘Annals.’

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Footnote 121:

A Bill prohibiting the exportation of wool passed the House of
Commons, May 15, 1788.

Footnote 122:

President of the Royal Society, and supporter of the cause of
agriculture and science; died 1810.

Footnote 123:

‘Then came the Oude case, that lasted no less than twenty-one
days, and ended by a speech from Sheridan on which great labour
and pains had been bestowed. This speech had been looked forward
to as rivalling the great Begum speech of the same orator’
(Knight). Is not A. Y. here thinking of the great Begum speech of
an earlier session?

Footnote 124:

The author of _Sandford and Merton_ died 1789 from the kick of a
colt, which he had refused to have broken in on account of the
cruelty usually involved in the process.

Footnote 125:

Died 1809. One of the most active members of the Royal Humane
Society; fell a victim to his devotion in attending the sick and
wounded Austrian soldiers on the field of Wagram.

Footnote 126:

See vol. x. of the _Annals of Agriculture_.

Footnote 127:

_Sic._

Footnote 128:

Written about 1816.

Footnote 129:

Wild chicory or succory, used by the French as a winter salad, and
in the adulteration of coffee.

Footnote 130:

Refers (see below) to a work by Baron Huthhausen on the servitude
of the Silesian peasantry.

Footnote 131:

For this article see _Annals of Agriculture_, vol. ix. p. 479.

Footnote 132:

Son of a Protestant pastor of Nîmes, member of the Constituent
Assembly; guillotined 1784. See _Letters of Helen Maria Williams_.

Footnote 133:

His country by adoption; Lazowski was a Pole.

Footnote 134:

Abbot.

Footnote 135:

‘January 30, 1790. To Bradfield, and here terminate, I hope, my
travels.’—_Travels in France_, Bohn’s Library.

Footnote 136:

This letter is interesting as written by the last representative
of that unhappy country in England. We read in Knight’s _History
of England_, vol. v., that, on the reassembling of Parliament
after the partition of Poland no allusion whatever was made in the
House of Commons to that event. The final partition treaty was
signed in 1795 by Russia, Prussia, and Austria.

Footnote 137:

The passage occurs in the small memorandum-book from which I have
occasionally quoted particulars of yearly expenses, &c.

Footnote 138:

Vol. xv. 1791, _My Own Memoirs_.

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