July 6 [1833],Granada.I arrived here to dinner on Monday last, having left Madrid Saturday morning at 2, passing through thePrado, which was full of people eating gingerbread, and dancing to guitars and strumming, a very proper and Catholic mode of keeping theVisperasof Sⁿ. Pedro.The journey here was severe, but rapid. I found Mrs. Ford much better, very much better than I could have expected—so much so that we have determined on returning to England in September,si Dios quiere. I do not like the looks of things here, and, with the Portuguese business and the cholera in the Peninsula, think it high time to return to England. Indeed, it is high time for other reasons. My wife is left alone without female society; my children at this important age are brought up as heathens and Spaniards, a pretty prospect for daughters; and I myself must purge like Falstaff, and live cleanly like a gentleman, and take to that gentlemanlike old vice,avarice, to save a little money for the bad times which hang over England.We hear here that the expedition in the south of Portugal is advancing prosperously, and that they pay as they go, which is a surer way of making proselytes than all their charters and constitutions.Don José has added another young lady to his family, Dionysia having been safely brought to bed yesterday. This is her sixth child of the female sex.The weather here delicious, mornings and evenings cool and fresh, and all green, and trickling streams, shady over-leafy arbours, with sweet singing nightingales;per contranothing to eat, and no Valdepeñas or dinners.The wall in the Alhambra is rising most rapidly, and the Frenchman equally expeditious in his painting of thePatio de los LeonesforVista allegre; indeed he had better make haste, for thevistaof the future is anything butallegre.
July 6 [1833],Granada.
I arrived here to dinner on Monday last, having left Madrid Saturday morning at 2, passing through thePrado, which was full of people eating gingerbread, and dancing to guitars and strumming, a very proper and Catholic mode of keeping theVisperasof Sⁿ. Pedro.
The journey here was severe, but rapid. I found Mrs. Ford much better, very much better than I could have expected—so much so that we have determined on returning to England in September,si Dios quiere. I do not like the looks of things here, and, with the Portuguese business and the cholera in the Peninsula, think it high time to return to England. Indeed, it is high time for other reasons. My wife is left alone without female society; my children at this important age are brought up as heathens and Spaniards, a pretty prospect for daughters; and I myself must purge like Falstaff, and live cleanly like a gentleman, and take to that gentlemanlike old vice,avarice, to save a little money for the bad times which hang over England.
We hear here that the expedition in the south of Portugal is advancing prosperously, and that they pay as they go, which is a surer way of making proselytes than all their charters and constitutions.
Don José has added another young lady to his family, Dionysia having been safely brought to bed yesterday. This is her sixth child of the female sex.
The weather here delicious, mornings and evenings cool and fresh, and all green, and trickling streams, shady over-leafy arbours, with sweet singing nightingales;per contranothing to eat, and no Valdepeñas or dinners.
The wall in the Alhambra is rising most rapidly, and the Frenchman equally expeditious in his painting of thePatio de los LeonesforVista allegre; indeed he had better make haste, for thevistaof the future is anything butallegre.
Granada,August 24, 1833.I was astounded in seeing in theRevistathat your ambassadorial career in Spain is coming to a conclusion. As you have been long prepared for it, and, indeed, rather surprised at its not having taken place sooner, I need say no more on thematter except that you will retire to enjoy yourotium cum dignitate. They have been very considerate to let you out of Spain just when the cholera is coming in. We hear that it was at Huelva on the 10th, and will soon be at Cadiz and Seville. This is bad intelligence for us, as we were preparing to return to England that route. If it does not reach Gibraltar by October, we shall go home in that packet.If you have time, in all the misery of packing up and departure, to write me a line, I shall be very glad to know when you are going and what are your plans. I am sure I am most thankful to the Whigs for their forbearance, as I verily believe, had you not furnished me with the Galignani (to say nothing of much and friendly hospitality on all and many occasions), I could not have survived in this land of darkness. The papers say George Villiers is to be your successor. He is a very clever, high-bred man,muy rubioand anelegante; he will please the Madrilenas. I should doubt if he knew a word of Spanish, which he will find a pretty considerabledesideratum.We are here enjoying the most beautiful weather, and one would hardly suppose, on looking at the blue sky and bright sun, that there was cholera in the world.The summer has been unusually warm, and old Picacho has taken off his white nightcap in consequence of the heat. I went up to the Barranco de Sⁿ. Juan with Head,[38]who is a well-informed, agreeable companion, and is filling his portfolio and pericranium with all sorts of Spanishmemoranda.Don José isin statu quo, and has had another baby born to him. I occasionally stroll with him in the Alameda, and listen to his old campaigns and how the Duke “flaked” the French on all occasions. I am reading the masterly work of Napier, and O’Lawlor is quite a commentator.Quæque ipse miserrima vidi et quorum pars magna fui.You won’t be tempted to run down here in thediligence, and go home in the October packet?Brackenbury was at Seville, gone to see the paintings of Mr. Roberts, which I hear are very fine;[39]but the news at Huelva sent him off per steamer to his post at Cadiz.I fear the wise Whigs will find theirprotégéin Portugal in a mess; we hear every day of the country rising against Dom Pedro. O’Lawlorconsiders his troubles as now beginning. Your troubles and mine are fast drawing to an end.
Granada,August 24, 1833.
I was astounded in seeing in theRevistathat your ambassadorial career in Spain is coming to a conclusion. As you have been long prepared for it, and, indeed, rather surprised at its not having taken place sooner, I need say no more on thematter except that you will retire to enjoy yourotium cum dignitate. They have been very considerate to let you out of Spain just when the cholera is coming in. We hear that it was at Huelva on the 10th, and will soon be at Cadiz and Seville. This is bad intelligence for us, as we were preparing to return to England that route. If it does not reach Gibraltar by October, we shall go home in that packet.
If you have time, in all the misery of packing up and departure, to write me a line, I shall be very glad to know when you are going and what are your plans. I am sure I am most thankful to the Whigs for their forbearance, as I verily believe, had you not furnished me with the Galignani (to say nothing of much and friendly hospitality on all and many occasions), I could not have survived in this land of darkness. The papers say George Villiers is to be your successor. He is a very clever, high-bred man,muy rubioand anelegante; he will please the Madrilenas. I should doubt if he knew a word of Spanish, which he will find a pretty considerabledesideratum.
We are here enjoying the most beautiful weather, and one would hardly suppose, on looking at the blue sky and bright sun, that there was cholera in the world.
The summer has been unusually warm, and old Picacho has taken off his white nightcap in consequence of the heat. I went up to the Barranco de Sⁿ. Juan with Head,[38]who is a well-informed, agreeable companion, and is filling his portfolio and pericranium with all sorts of Spanishmemoranda.
Don José isin statu quo, and has had another baby born to him. I occasionally stroll with him in the Alameda, and listen to his old campaigns and how the Duke “flaked” the French on all occasions. I am reading the masterly work of Napier, and O’Lawlor is quite a commentator.Quæque ipse miserrima vidi et quorum pars magna fui.
You won’t be tempted to run down here in thediligence, and go home in the October packet?
Brackenbury was at Seville, gone to see the paintings of Mr. Roberts, which I hear are very fine;[39]but the news at Huelva sent him off per steamer to his post at Cadiz.
I fear the wise Whigs will find theirprotégéin Portugal in a mess; we hear every day of the country rising against Dom Pedro. O’Lawlorconsiders his troubles as now beginning. Your troubles and mine are fast drawing to an end.
Sept. 21, 1833,Madrid.We arrived here at last this morning, after a most distressing journey, in consequence of the detentions and discomforts occasioned on the road by the singular precautions taken in the towns against the approach of the cholera. These are so very absurd, and so totally calculated to defeat the object in view, that I think some account of what took place may possibly interest you.As I had to travel with a sick wife, four small children—one of them only weaned a few days—I made many enquiries of General Abadia and theadministradorof thediligenceat Granada whether any difficulties would be offered on the road, with a view of making some sort of preparation; but, having been assured that none would, I ventured forth on Wednesday morning. We reached Jaen without interruption, but on our arrival found a guard of soldiers drawn up across the road, with many of the inhabitants behind them. Thediligencewas stopped, though it could only come from Granada; and though all other carriages coming from Granada were admitted at once, a precaution taken against thediligence only, which on thecontrary ought to have been the least suspected, both from the forms of its institution and the decency of travellers who proceed by such a conveyance. Themayoralgot down, and entered into close communication with the soldiers and people, collected all the passports, and gave theminto the handof a person appointed to receive them. The passengers then alighted, and mingled with the assembled people until the passports were returned.Next morning we proceeded to Mengibar, a miserable hamlet, where we were detained by some wild-looking peasants and a nondescript soldier in agorrowithout stockings, but with a sword in his hand. The passports were received in the same way, and returned dulyvisédby theJunta de Sanidad. In almost every town some sort of detention took place, generally of about half an hour, but varying in detail according to the plan laid down by each petty Junta.At Guarroman a carriage, supposed to have a person from Seville in it, was turned out of the town, and the passengers obliged to pass the day in the sun, without food or communication, while some steps were taken to procure them acortijo.At Manzanares, where we arrived early, we were detained much longer, as none of the peasants could read or write, and the passports had to betaken to theEscribano, who was in bed, and had left orders not to be disturbed.At Ocaña, where we ought to have rested some hours and supped, thediligencewas peremptorily ordered out of the town. We were driven out and left to ourselves; the innkeeper, who ought to have provided food, not having done so because there might be some difficulty in his getting paid. However, a party in the carriage fared better: several ladies, attended by two officers of the garrison with servants, came down to thediligencewith provisions, remained with it an hour, and then returned to Ocaña with thevery guardswho were appointed to prevent all communication.At Aranjuez, the next town, we were admitted without stoppage, enquiry, or notice of any sort.It is needless to point out to you the absurdity of these proceedings, so vexatious to travellers, and so utterly ill calculated to produce any good effect. Persons suspected of being infected are allowed to remain in full communication with inhabitants of the town, before their actual freedom from disease is ascertained. The commonest measures of sanitary precautions are neglected. There was no bar, no rope across the road, no fixed spot for the travellers to communicate with the guards, no receiving papers or passports withtongs, or with vinegar, or any of the usual disinfecting processes.Each little town seemed to act according to its own ideas, and all absolute and peremptory; all in equal ignorance of what was passing below and left in equal ignorance by the authorities at Madrid; without orders or instructions, or one general simple plan to be adopted everywhere, each petty village acting for itself as if no other town existed, and without reference to the public good.Depend upon it, they are adopting the sure means of rapidly communicating the disease, andany oneinfected traveller will bring it, to a certainty, to Madrid, if no better precautions are taken in the towns nearer the disorder.
Sept. 21, 1833,Madrid.
We arrived here at last this morning, after a most distressing journey, in consequence of the detentions and discomforts occasioned on the road by the singular precautions taken in the towns against the approach of the cholera. These are so very absurd, and so totally calculated to defeat the object in view, that I think some account of what took place may possibly interest you.
As I had to travel with a sick wife, four small children—one of them only weaned a few days—I made many enquiries of General Abadia and theadministradorof thediligenceat Granada whether any difficulties would be offered on the road, with a view of making some sort of preparation; but, having been assured that none would, I ventured forth on Wednesday morning. We reached Jaen without interruption, but on our arrival found a guard of soldiers drawn up across the road, with many of the inhabitants behind them. Thediligencewas stopped, though it could only come from Granada; and though all other carriages coming from Granada were admitted at once, a precaution taken against thediligence only, which on thecontrary ought to have been the least suspected, both from the forms of its institution and the decency of travellers who proceed by such a conveyance. Themayoralgot down, and entered into close communication with the soldiers and people, collected all the passports, and gave theminto the handof a person appointed to receive them. The passengers then alighted, and mingled with the assembled people until the passports were returned.
Next morning we proceeded to Mengibar, a miserable hamlet, where we were detained by some wild-looking peasants and a nondescript soldier in agorrowithout stockings, but with a sword in his hand. The passports were received in the same way, and returned dulyvisédby theJunta de Sanidad. In almost every town some sort of detention took place, generally of about half an hour, but varying in detail according to the plan laid down by each petty Junta.
At Guarroman a carriage, supposed to have a person from Seville in it, was turned out of the town, and the passengers obliged to pass the day in the sun, without food or communication, while some steps were taken to procure them acortijo.
At Manzanares, where we arrived early, we were detained much longer, as none of the peasants could read or write, and the passports had to betaken to theEscribano, who was in bed, and had left orders not to be disturbed.
At Ocaña, where we ought to have rested some hours and supped, thediligencewas peremptorily ordered out of the town. We were driven out and left to ourselves; the innkeeper, who ought to have provided food, not having done so because there might be some difficulty in his getting paid. However, a party in the carriage fared better: several ladies, attended by two officers of the garrison with servants, came down to thediligencewith provisions, remained with it an hour, and then returned to Ocaña with thevery guardswho were appointed to prevent all communication.
At Aranjuez, the next town, we were admitted without stoppage, enquiry, or notice of any sort.
It is needless to point out to you the absurdity of these proceedings, so vexatious to travellers, and so utterly ill calculated to produce any good effect. Persons suspected of being infected are allowed to remain in full communication with inhabitants of the town, before their actual freedom from disease is ascertained. The commonest measures of sanitary precautions are neglected. There was no bar, no rope across the road, no fixed spot for the travellers to communicate with the guards, no receiving papers or passports withtongs, or with vinegar, or any of the usual disinfecting processes.
Each little town seemed to act according to its own ideas, and all absolute and peremptory; all in equal ignorance of what was passing below and left in equal ignorance by the authorities at Madrid; without orders or instructions, or one general simple plan to be adopted everywhere, each petty village acting for itself as if no other town existed, and without reference to the public good.
Depend upon it, they are adopting the sure means of rapidly communicating the disease, andany oneinfected traveller will bring it, to a certainty, to Madrid, if no better precautions are taken in the towns nearer the disorder.
Death of Ferdinand VII.—Exeter—Projected Book on Spain—Purchase of Heavitree House—Marriage of Lord King and of Addington—First Article in theQuarterly Review—Death of Mrs. Ford.
Death of Ferdinand VII.—Exeter—Projected Book on Spain—Purchase of Heavitree House—Marriage of Lord King and of Addington—First Article in theQuarterly Review—Death of Mrs. Ford.
Onhis way to England, at the end of September 1833, Ford passed through Madrid. There he saw the funeral of Ferdinand VII., of which he gives an account in the following letter written to Addington from his mother’s house in London.
[123,Park Street],London,Wednesday, 4th Dec., 1833.I am afraid I shall have left town before your return, which I am very sorry for, as I should have much liked to have had a chat with you in this dull and dingy capital, and to have talked over that fair land (aliasbrown) beyond the Pyrenees. I should have had more to tell you than will go in a letter of our perils by sea and by land, moving adventures and escapes. Poor old Fernando, as you predicted, died when we were there, and wesaw him duly conveyed to the Escurial in acoche de colleras, with his feet projecting out of the front windows, and thecapaof theZagalhanging up behind. Alva, Medina Celi, and other grandees, riding hacks, in gold-embroidered coats and black trousers (the under man like an undertaker; the upper, all the tinsel of Spain, which gilds those mean hearts that lurk beneath a star). Sad dogs they looked,tel maître tel valet. Old Alagon brought up the rear. It was archi-Spanish, a mixture of the paltry and magnificent, and no one caring one inch about any part of it.Villiers arrived with a good cook, and began his dinners, which were good and agreeable. He has arrived at a rare difficult period; but he is a very clever fellow and a complete man of the world.I am going down to Exeter, where I have taken a house for a year, and am going to place my children in the hands of my brother[40]to eradicateSanta Maria, and teach them the architecture of the interiors of English churches.I met Grant the other day, who was on his wayfrom Madrid to Lisbon,viâ Londres. He told me that all your goods and chattels were in the Downs, “all in the downs the goods were moored”; among them is a silver vase and some coins belonging to yourservidor, and aMajadress with four million silver buttons belonging to Mrs. Ford. A case of old books went at the same time, and probably is among them; for them I wish to pay duty, if your agent would be so good as to do so, and then all theRobamay be forwarded to my mother’s, with many thanks for all the trouble you have taken.Grant tells me that your pension is rather undecided! God forfend! Ruin seems to stare everybody in the face; London half-deserted, and the roads and inns of the continent encumbered with absentees. We are patriotic, and come home in the time of need.
[123,Park Street],London,Wednesday, 4th Dec., 1833.
I am afraid I shall have left town before your return, which I am very sorry for, as I should have much liked to have had a chat with you in this dull and dingy capital, and to have talked over that fair land (aliasbrown) beyond the Pyrenees. I should have had more to tell you than will go in a letter of our perils by sea and by land, moving adventures and escapes. Poor old Fernando, as you predicted, died when we were there, and wesaw him duly conveyed to the Escurial in acoche de colleras, with his feet projecting out of the front windows, and thecapaof theZagalhanging up behind. Alva, Medina Celi, and other grandees, riding hacks, in gold-embroidered coats and black trousers (the under man like an undertaker; the upper, all the tinsel of Spain, which gilds those mean hearts that lurk beneath a star). Sad dogs they looked,tel maître tel valet. Old Alagon brought up the rear. It was archi-Spanish, a mixture of the paltry and magnificent, and no one caring one inch about any part of it.
Villiers arrived with a good cook, and began his dinners, which were good and agreeable. He has arrived at a rare difficult period; but he is a very clever fellow and a complete man of the world.
I am going down to Exeter, where I have taken a house for a year, and am going to place my children in the hands of my brother[40]to eradicateSanta Maria, and teach them the architecture of the interiors of English churches.
I met Grant the other day, who was on his wayfrom Madrid to Lisbon,viâ Londres. He told me that all your goods and chattels were in the Downs, “all in the downs the goods were moored”; among them is a silver vase and some coins belonging to yourservidor, and aMajadress with four million silver buttons belonging to Mrs. Ford. A case of old books went at the same time, and probably is among them; for them I wish to pay duty, if your agent would be so good as to do so, and then all theRobamay be forwarded to my mother’s, with many thanks for all the trouble you have taken.
Grant tells me that your pension is rather undecided! God forfend! Ruin seems to stare everybody in the face; London half-deserted, and the roads and inns of the continent encumbered with absentees. We are patriotic, and come home in the time of need.
The surroundings of his new home at Southernhay, Exeter, delighted him. Writing to Addington, February 4th, 1834, he says:—
“This Exeter is quite a Capital, abounding in all that London has, except its fog and smoke. There is an excellent institution here with a well-chosen large Library, in which I take great pastime and am beginning my education. There is a bookseller who has someten thousandold tomesto tempt a poor man. However, here one has no vices or expenses except eating clotted cream, and adurocrown piece wears a hole in your pocket before you are tempted to change it. The dollars accumulate, and I am reading my Bible and minding my purse. Spain is in a pretty state. Llauder[41]cannot be trusted, as he has been true to no one, not even to himself. Quesada is a violent man, without much statesmanlike tact; he is piqued with what happened to him at Madrid, when they were fools enough to set out with disgusting him. He is no Liberal in his heart, hates the English, likes the French, believes in theGazette de France. I know him right well; he ismuy integro, and has a sort of straightforward common sense.“Amarillas is, without any sort of doubt, the first man in Spain, and of the soundest political sentiments, a true friend to England, and most anxious to recognise the Americas, which he always told memustbe the first step to the welfare ofSpain. He has property in Andalucia which has been ruined by the non-exportation of their oils.“My brother and his family (all most super-excellent people and of transcendental goodness) are quite well, andthe five Miss Fordsare the dearest friends.“I amuse myself much with old Spanish books and old Spanish recollections, andhave my pen in my hand. The more I read, the more ignorant I find I am, and how the middle age of life has been mis-spent. I am rubbing up what I knew at eighteen and nineteen; it is an awful thing, now the world is so learned and the lower orders walking encyclopedias, to think of writing anything and printing.Nous verrons.”
“This Exeter is quite a Capital, abounding in all that London has, except its fog and smoke. There is an excellent institution here with a well-chosen large Library, in which I take great pastime and am beginning my education. There is a bookseller who has someten thousandold tomesto tempt a poor man. However, here one has no vices or expenses except eating clotted cream, and adurocrown piece wears a hole in your pocket before you are tempted to change it. The dollars accumulate, and I am reading my Bible and minding my purse. Spain is in a pretty state. Llauder[41]cannot be trusted, as he has been true to no one, not even to himself. Quesada is a violent man, without much statesmanlike tact; he is piqued with what happened to him at Madrid, when they were fools enough to set out with disgusting him. He is no Liberal in his heart, hates the English, likes the French, believes in theGazette de France. I know him right well; he ismuy integro, and has a sort of straightforward common sense.
“Amarillas is, without any sort of doubt, the first man in Spain, and of the soundest political sentiments, a true friend to England, and most anxious to recognise the Americas, which he always told memustbe the first step to the welfare ofSpain. He has property in Andalucia which has been ruined by the non-exportation of their oils.
“My brother and his family (all most super-excellent people and of transcendental goodness) are quite well, andthe five Miss Fordsare the dearest friends.
“I amuse myself much with old Spanish books and old Spanish recollections, andhave my pen in my hand. The more I read, the more ignorant I find I am, and how the middle age of life has been mis-spent. I am rubbing up what I knew at eighteen and nineteen; it is an awful thing, now the world is so learned and the lower orders walking encyclopedias, to think of writing anything and printing.Nous verrons.”
Once settled at Exeter, Ford began to write an account of his Spanish experiences. The pocketbooks, in which he had noted whatever had impressed him in his travels or his reading, were brought out, and the task was commenced with characteristic zest. But the book which he had planned in 1834 was never written. Many circumstances led to the abandonment of the design. For a time he was discouraged by Addington’s criticisms. Then his literary ambitions were temporarily checked by the passion for house-building and landscape-gardening; when these were revived, they were fully occupied in the articles which, from 1836 onwards, he contributed to theQuarterlyReview. Finally the material which he had collected was embodied inThe Handbook for Spain(1845), and theGatherings from Spain(1846).
The old pocket-books, filled with notes and sketches, revived pleasant memories of Spain:—
Exeter,March 10, 1834.I have been rubbing up my notes on the coast of Andalucia, and have been in theBottegas of Xeres, drinking the golden Consular; thence to Tarifa, and sucked a sweet orange with Guzmanel Bueno. Thence to Gib., round of beef and porter at Griffiths’. So to Malaga; all sweet wine, raisins, and Consular uniforms. I cannot say how much the fighting one’s old battles over again delights me. I am afraid it will delight the gentle reader less. If I were to write familiar letters like old Howell,[42]perhaps they might do, but the times won’t stand that now. Penny Magazines are all the order of the day. Well! well!dulce est desipere in loco. I often think that one day would take me to Falmouth, and six to Cadiz to the society of the fair Brackybrigas, and another daypersteamer to the dark-eyedSevillanas. Howbeit I have done with that bird-lime to the human race,viscarium Diaboli, as old St. Ambrose has it.
Exeter,March 10, 1834.
I have been rubbing up my notes on the coast of Andalucia, and have been in theBottegas of Xeres, drinking the golden Consular; thence to Tarifa, and sucked a sweet orange with Guzmanel Bueno. Thence to Gib., round of beef and porter at Griffiths’. So to Malaga; all sweet wine, raisins, and Consular uniforms. I cannot say how much the fighting one’s old battles over again delights me. I am afraid it will delight the gentle reader less. If I were to write familiar letters like old Howell,[42]perhaps they might do, but the times won’t stand that now. Penny Magazines are all the order of the day. Well! well!dulce est desipere in loco. I often think that one day would take me to Falmouth, and six to Cadiz to the society of the fair Brackybrigas, and another daypersteamer to the dark-eyedSevillanas. Howbeit I have done with that bird-lime to the human race,viscarium Diaboli, as old St. Ambrose has it.
Exeter,March 15, 1834.I sent Head a sample of my wares, to see if the article would do for the public. He is a learned, dry antiquarian; that is not exactly my line. You wish me to write an entertaining book (how easy!!),bagatella, with anecdotes on men and manners.Mores multorum vidit et urbes!A lady wished for scenery and sentiment. Heigho! true lovers’ knots and moonlight. I should wish to make a sort ofPuchero, anolla Andaluça, a little dryvaccaà la Cook (thatcocinerohas just turned out two volumes which I have sent for), a littlechorizo[sausage] andjamon de las Alfujarras, with some good pepper,salsa[sauce]de Zandunga.Where you could most assist me would be in a droll account of life at Aranjuez or la Granja, which I never saw. I am strong in Religion (you did not know that), Arts, and all except the Literature; but I have an excellent Spanish library, and could in six weeks write such an essay on the matter as would appear to be the result of a greater acquaintance with their authors than I have. I have, indeed, turned over a good many pages in Spain, but it has been odd out-of-the-way reading.If you feel up to this task, it will be avery, verygreat obligation, and will keep my bookcorrect, and, I hope, cut out all that is offensive. I hope not toinsert anything on politics, which I neither like nor understand. I must wait and see Captain Cook’s book. It will be heavy and correct; no taste, much industry (the plates ought to bewoodblocks): it will be very ligneous, nopyroligneousacid—as stiff and bolt-upright as a mainmast. I do not see any possibility of getting the book done before next spring; it will take a year to write. I care not for Captain Heaphy, who will sail over the surface in an ice-boat. Captain Cook will go downpondere suo.It is a serious matter; but I have leisure, and nothing to do. This place is delicious: such a climate! such clotted cream! and an excellent public Library with all good books of reference.
Exeter,March 15, 1834.
I sent Head a sample of my wares, to see if the article would do for the public. He is a learned, dry antiquarian; that is not exactly my line. You wish me to write an entertaining book (how easy!!),bagatella, with anecdotes on men and manners.Mores multorum vidit et urbes!A lady wished for scenery and sentiment. Heigho! true lovers’ knots and moonlight. I should wish to make a sort ofPuchero, anolla Andaluça, a little dryvaccaà la Cook (thatcocinerohas just turned out two volumes which I have sent for), a littlechorizo[sausage] andjamon de las Alfujarras, with some good pepper,salsa[sauce]de Zandunga.
Where you could most assist me would be in a droll account of life at Aranjuez or la Granja, which I never saw. I am strong in Religion (you did not know that), Arts, and all except the Literature; but I have an excellent Spanish library, and could in six weeks write such an essay on the matter as would appear to be the result of a greater acquaintance with their authors than I have. I have, indeed, turned over a good many pages in Spain, but it has been odd out-of-the-way reading.
If you feel up to this task, it will be avery, verygreat obligation, and will keep my bookcorrect, and, I hope, cut out all that is offensive. I hope not toinsert anything on politics, which I neither like nor understand. I must wait and see Captain Cook’s book. It will be heavy and correct; no taste, much industry (the plates ought to bewoodblocks): it will be very ligneous, nopyroligneousacid—as stiff and bolt-upright as a mainmast. I do not see any possibility of getting the book done before next spring; it will take a year to write. I care not for Captain Heaphy, who will sail over the surface in an ice-boat. Captain Cook will go downpondere suo.
It is a serious matter; but I have leisure, and nothing to do. This place is delicious: such a climate! such clotted cream! and an excellent public Library with all good books of reference.
Exeter,March 26, 1834.You should look at Captain Cook’s book (Sketches in Spain: Boone, Bond Street), dry, painstaking and accurate, better than I had expected by far. He understands the people better than the pictures. There he breaks down lamentably. But he is without taste, and does not know a Murillo from a mainmast. You will see a splendid sentence on old Ferdinand’s patronage of the Arts in giving the pictures to the Museum. I have always heard that it was the deed of thePortuguesaand the Ms. de Santa Cruz, who wasMajor duomo.The D. of [?] told me that he and Santa Cruz spent days in rummaging them out. Ferdinand had sent them to the Devil to make room for some new French paper.
Exeter,March 26, 1834.
You should look at Captain Cook’s book (Sketches in Spain: Boone, Bond Street), dry, painstaking and accurate, better than I had expected by far. He understands the people better than the pictures. There he breaks down lamentably. But he is without taste, and does not know a Murillo from a mainmast. You will see a splendid sentence on old Ferdinand’s patronage of the Arts in giving the pictures to the Museum. I have always heard that it was the deed of thePortuguesaand the Ms. de Santa Cruz, who wasMajor duomo.The D. of [?] told me that he and Santa Cruz spent days in rummaging them out. Ferdinand had sent them to the Devil to make room for some new French paper.
Exeter,April 20, 1834.I enclose you a batch of MSS. which will remind you of the despatches of Mark.The greatest act of real friendship you can show me is by not scrupling to use your pencil as freely as a surgeon would his knife, when he really thought the patient’s recovery required it. I write in haste always, and am more troubled to restrain and keep in matter, than for want of it.I want the book to run easy, to read easy, to be light and pleasant, not dry and pedantic. I get on but slowly, and do not see land. I feel the matter grow upon my hands in proportion as I get on. It is like travelling in the Asturias; when you get up one mountain, you see five or six higher before you. However, the coast is clear, and that able circumnavigator, Cook, will be drier than the Mummy of Cheops before my sheets will be dampt for printing.Do not forget to throw into anomnium-gatherumany odd remarks about Madrid. If you get a copybook, when any straydyspepticobservation occurs, book it, and I will work it up, as a gipsy does thestolen children of a gentleman, so that the parent shall not recognise it.
Exeter,April 20, 1834.
I enclose you a batch of MSS. which will remind you of the despatches of Mark.
The greatest act of real friendship you can show me is by not scrupling to use your pencil as freely as a surgeon would his knife, when he really thought the patient’s recovery required it. I write in haste always, and am more troubled to restrain and keep in matter, than for want of it.
I want the book to run easy, to read easy, to be light and pleasant, not dry and pedantic. I get on but slowly, and do not see land. I feel the matter grow upon my hands in proportion as I get on. It is like travelling in the Asturias; when you get up one mountain, you see five or six higher before you. However, the coast is clear, and that able circumnavigator, Cook, will be drier than the Mummy of Cheops before my sheets will be dampt for printing.
Do not forget to throw into anomnium-gatherumany odd remarks about Madrid. If you get a copybook, when any straydyspepticobservation occurs, book it, and I will work it up, as a gipsy does thestolen children of a gentleman, so that the parent shall not recognise it.
Addington’s criticism was in some respects discouraging. His diplomatic caution was probably alarmed at Ford’s outspoken vigour, and he does not seem to have read enough between the lines to recognise Ford’s real love for Spain and the Spanish people. Ford’s reply shows his surprise at the impression which he had produced on Addington.
Sunday Evening,Exeter,May 4, 1834.Your letter has knocked the breath out of my body, the ink out of my pen, the pen out of my hand. You have settled mycacoethes. I had no idea I was anything but a friend to the Spaniards. I do not think them brave, or romantic, but with many super-excellent qualities, all of which I should have duly praised. You cut out my wit! Head cuts out my poetry! and I shall cut the concern. What is to be done? I can’t write like Cook; I really wish to take in a very wide haul, and have very great materials. Religion must come in, or the Arts must go out. Politics and Poetry I care nothing for. Wit (if there is any),—it is not wit but a trick of stringing words together, and I cannot write a common letter, or say anything, without falling into these sort of absurdities. It would not be my book, if it was not so. I have a horror offlippancy. That is what I fear most, and am most likely to run into. There you may carbonado me, and I will kiss the rod. If you read the MSS., do not spare your pencil, and I will make great sacrifices to please you. Remember you only see an excursion. My early chapters on Seville will be historical,prosaical, and artistical.I should like you to read Faure or Bory St. Vincent,[43]and see howtheyhandle the Spaniards,—or some of the older works. Mine is milk and water to Napier. I always thought you prejudicedagainstthe Spaniards rather than in their favour, poor innocents! All about the grandees at Madrid, if you have stumbled on that, I will cut out with pleasure. At the same time, if you don’t agree in the book, I cannot be so right as I imagined, and had better have nothing to do with the concern, but read other people’s works instead of their reading mine.I have not the presumption to suppose my opinion to be worth yours in many important subjects. On some I think it is,—the lighter and more frivolous. I am a humble-minded author, as Head will tell you, very docile, and not at allirritable. I care not how much you cut out, as I have written for four volumes, and would rather writetwo.We will talk over the matter when I come to town, which will be soon. Meanwhile, read the MSS., and cut away. Spare not my pungency, and correct my mistakes. Cut out all that is flippant, personal, or offensive (the grandees, I admit, is both). Remember you have only the rough sketch. I have two years before me, and the lean kine of reflection will eat up the fat ones of the overflowing of young conceit and inexperience. I wish to write an amusing, instructive, and, more than all, a gentlemanlike book. I hold myself lucky that you and Head see it, and will abide by your dictations, and kiss the rod and your hand.
Sunday Evening,Exeter,May 4, 1834.
Your letter has knocked the breath out of my body, the ink out of my pen, the pen out of my hand. You have settled mycacoethes. I had no idea I was anything but a friend to the Spaniards. I do not think them brave, or romantic, but with many super-excellent qualities, all of which I should have duly praised. You cut out my wit! Head cuts out my poetry! and I shall cut the concern. What is to be done? I can’t write like Cook; I really wish to take in a very wide haul, and have very great materials. Religion must come in, or the Arts must go out. Politics and Poetry I care nothing for. Wit (if there is any),—it is not wit but a trick of stringing words together, and I cannot write a common letter, or say anything, without falling into these sort of absurdities. It would not be my book, if it was not so. I have a horror offlippancy. That is what I fear most, and am most likely to run into. There you may carbonado me, and I will kiss the rod. If you read the MSS., do not spare your pencil, and I will make great sacrifices to please you. Remember you only see an excursion. My early chapters on Seville will be historical,prosaical, and artistical.
I should like you to read Faure or Bory St. Vincent,[43]and see howtheyhandle the Spaniards,—or some of the older works. Mine is milk and water to Napier. I always thought you prejudicedagainstthe Spaniards rather than in their favour, poor innocents! All about the grandees at Madrid, if you have stumbled on that, I will cut out with pleasure. At the same time, if you don’t agree in the book, I cannot be so right as I imagined, and had better have nothing to do with the concern, but read other people’s works instead of their reading mine.
I have not the presumption to suppose my opinion to be worth yours in many important subjects. On some I think it is,—the lighter and more frivolous. I am a humble-minded author, as Head will tell you, very docile, and not at allirritable. I care not how much you cut out, as I have written for four volumes, and would rather writetwo.
We will talk over the matter when I come to town, which will be soon. Meanwhile, read the MSS., and cut away. Spare not my pungency, and correct my mistakes. Cut out all that is flippant, personal, or offensive (the grandees, I admit, is both). Remember you have only the rough sketch. I have two years before me, and the lean kine of reflection will eat up the fat ones of the overflowing of young conceit and inexperience. I wish to write an amusing, instructive, and, more than all, a gentlemanlike book. I hold myself lucky that you and Head see it, and will abide by your dictations, and kiss the rod and your hand.
But the discouragement was not great enough to divert Ford from his enterprise. The criticism did not cool his friendship. He was eager to persuade Addington to settle near him, and once more sings the praises of Exeter.
Exeter,Saturday evening, 14 June, 1834.Now that the show is over, and all the caps and gowns, stars and garters no more, I venture to indite you an epistle from the green fields of Devon; right pleasing and fresh are they after the dusty treadmill ofla Corte. There are houses of all sorts from£50 a year to £250; one at that price is beautiful and fit for a Plenipo. (I have not fixed on anything myself, having been chiefly in bed with an infernalurticaria,aliasa nettle-rash.) The women, God be praised! are very ugly. Meat at 6d. a pound, butter seldom making 1s.; I am told in the London Buttometer it reaches 18d. A Mr. Radford, who has a place to sell, has one gardener, who looks after two acres and three horses, all for a matter of £15 or so a year. Servants go twice to church of a Sunday, and masters read family prayers, and make them work their bodies like galley slaves,per contrathe benefit conferred on their souls.The town ispueblo levitico de hidalguia y algo aficionado a la Iglesia y al Rey absoluto; otherwise quiet and literary: clergymen, physicians, colonels, plain £1000-a-year folk, given to talk about quarter sessions and the new road bill (if you will allow them). Otherwise a man goes quietly down hill here,oblitus et obliviscendus, reads his books (or those of the Institution), goes to church, and gets rich, which is very pleasurable and a novel feeling—better than theromanceof youth.
Exeter,Saturday evening, 14 June, 1834.
Now that the show is over, and all the caps and gowns, stars and garters no more, I venture to indite you an epistle from the green fields of Devon; right pleasing and fresh are they after the dusty treadmill ofla Corte. There are houses of all sorts from£50 a year to £250; one at that price is beautiful and fit for a Plenipo. (I have not fixed on anything myself, having been chiefly in bed with an infernalurticaria,aliasa nettle-rash.) The women, God be praised! are very ugly. Meat at 6d. a pound, butter seldom making 1s.; I am told in the London Buttometer it reaches 18d. A Mr. Radford, who has a place to sell, has one gardener, who looks after two acres and three horses, all for a matter of £15 or so a year. Servants go twice to church of a Sunday, and masters read family prayers, and make them work their bodies like galley slaves,per contrathe benefit conferred on their souls.
The town ispueblo levitico de hidalguia y algo aficionado a la Iglesia y al Rey absoluto; otherwise quiet and literary: clergymen, physicians, colonels, plain £1000-a-year folk, given to talk about quarter sessions and the new road bill (if you will allow them). Otherwise a man goes quietly down hill here,oblitus et obliviscendus, reads his books (or those of the Institution), goes to church, and gets rich, which is very pleasurable and a novel feeling—better than theromanceof youth.
Once more the manuscript passed to and fro between the friends. But a new and absorbing interest for a time diverted Ford’s energies from literature. In the late summer of 1834 he boughtan Elizabethan cottage, called Heavitree House, near Exeter, standing in about twelve acres of land. Here he gradually rebuilt and enlarged the house, laid out the ground in terraces and gardens with Moorish-patterned flower borders, and planted pines from the Pincian and cypresses from the Xenil. The first mention of the purchase, in his correspondence with Addington, occurs in a letter written from Oxford, September 13th, 1834.
I am wandering (he says)inter Academiæ silvas, to my great delight, poring over old books in the Bodleian, and copying barge-boards and gable-ends, in order to ruin myself as expeditiously as possible at Heavitree.
I am wandering (he says)inter Academiæ silvas, to my great delight, poring over old books in the Bodleian, and copying barge-boards and gable-ends, in order to ruin myself as expeditiously as possible at Heavitree.
Within and without, as time went on, he made the house and gardens express his varied tastes. Old houses in and about Exeter furnished many of the treasures which enriched his home. Thus the fireplace in the hall came from an ancient house pulled down in Rack Street; the gates, the staircase, much of the panelling and carved woodwork were brought from “King John’s Tavern.” The cornice of the bathroom had once adorned the Casa Sanchez in the Alhambra; the old Register chest from Exeter Cathedral formed the case of the bath. Here, too, he stored his curious library and exhibited many of the spoils of his foreign travels—pictures, etchings, engravings, and specimens of Majolica ware.
For the moment books were laid aside for building and gardening. His letters are filled with his new pleasure. In April 1835 the house began to be habitable, although he is still “ashamed of it asin presenti; there are beds but no kitchen,” and “it will hardly hold the accumulation of books. I am sighing,” he adds, “to drink the sweet waters of the Nile; and when my book is written, when my house is built, and when I am ruined, shall go and economise in hundred-gated Thebes.” Writing April 16th, 1834, he says:
The move from Southernhay to Heavitree was accomplished in three most sunny days. All the books and other traps duly conveyed into Myrtle Bower to the tune of a triple bob major of the village bells. I have already begun digging, and moving plants; to-morrow comes my man of mortar to plan the kitchen. My pink thorn will be out in a month: quite a nosegay. You can’t think how snug my upper drawing-room looks, now it is full of books, ormolu, drawings, etc. I expect to see you here very shortly, as London must be detestable now O’Connell rules the land.The work of destruction (he writes a week later) proceeds as rapidly as Dr. Bowring or Lord Johnico could desire. The removal of the cob has let in a flood of light and a side view over my extensive landed estate. A part is preserved, overmantled with ancient ivy (the harbour of slugs, black-beetles, and earwigs), which is to be converted into a Moorish ruin, and tricked out with veritableazulejofrom the Alhambra. The myrtles only want an Andalucianmuchachato be shrubs worthy of Venus. The foundations of the kitchen will be laid on a rock on Monday next. Meanwhile my cook roasts meat admirably with a nail and a string.I have no vote, or I would go ten miles on foot to record my contempt for that aristocratical prig, that levelling lordling.I have given up the pen for the hoe and spade, all a-delving and digging. I hope, however, in a week or so, that theobrawill be so far planned and definitely arranged as to send me back to my old books, which I find the best and surest of resources.
The move from Southernhay to Heavitree was accomplished in three most sunny days. All the books and other traps duly conveyed into Myrtle Bower to the tune of a triple bob major of the village bells. I have already begun digging, and moving plants; to-morrow comes my man of mortar to plan the kitchen. My pink thorn will be out in a month: quite a nosegay. You can’t think how snug my upper drawing-room looks, now it is full of books, ormolu, drawings, etc. I expect to see you here very shortly, as London must be detestable now O’Connell rules the land.
The work of destruction (he writes a week later) proceeds as rapidly as Dr. Bowring or Lord Johnico could desire. The removal of the cob has let in a flood of light and a side view over my extensive landed estate. A part is preserved, overmantled with ancient ivy (the harbour of slugs, black-beetles, and earwigs), which is to be converted into a Moorish ruin, and tricked out with veritableazulejofrom the Alhambra. The myrtles only want an Andalucianmuchachato be shrubs worthy of Venus. The foundations of the kitchen will be laid on a rock on Monday next. Meanwhile my cook roasts meat admirably with a nail and a string.
I have no vote, or I would go ten miles on foot to record my contempt for that aristocratical prig, that levelling lordling.
I have given up the pen for the hoe and spade, all a-delving and digging. I hope, however, in a week or so, that theobrawill be so far planned and definitely arranged as to send me back to my old books, which I find the best and surest of resources.
For one brief interval Ford was swept from his garden into the excitement of political life. On April 8th, 1835, Sir Robert Peel and his colleagues resigned office over the question of the Irish Church and Irish Tithes. Under Lord Melbourne a new Government was formed, in which Lord John Russell, as Home Secretary, was a member of the Cabinet. Ministers offered themselves for re-election, and Lord John found his seat in South Devonshire threatened by Mr. Parker. The contest was keenly fought, excitement ran high, but in the end Mr. Parker won by twenty-seven votes, and Lord John eventually found a seat at Stroud.
Heavitree House,May 3 [1835], Friday Evening.We had a drenching rain this morning; it had not rained for many weeks (it seldom rains except when testy gentlemen come down in July), but just when Lord Johnny came forward, the heavens poured forth their phials by buckets. The little man, “the widow’s mite,” could not be heard for the sweet acclamations of “O’Connell,” “The tail,” “Cut it short,” “Here’s the Bishop coming.” At every sentence was a chorus, “That’s a new lie.” All Devon was assembled. The Parkermobvery noisy and violent, but all yeomen and substantial farmers. Johnny’s crew a sad set, hired at 2/6ᵈ per man. He was supported by Lord Ebrington and Dr. Bowring.Bulteel proposed Johnny; seconded by Lillifant, a sort of a methodist, a member of the temperance society, which occasioned much fun and cries of “Heavy wet,” “Brandy.” Parker (a dandy-looking youth) was proposed in a loud, bold, and successful speech by Baldwin Fulford, Jr., and seconded in a quieter and gentlemanlike manner by Stafford Northcote (fils, the Wykehamist). By this time I was so wet that I made off for Heavitree, and found my myrtles just washed by a shower, etc.I dined yesterday with all the Rads, and sat next to Dr. Bowring. They do not seem over-confident.The Conservatives say that Parker has a numerical majority, as far as promises go, of 700. They say the Rads are spending money by sackfuls in inducing Parkerites not to vote at all.I dined the other day withEpiscopus, who made grateful mention of your Excellency, and rejoices in the prospect of your arrival. So you are in for it, and have nothing to do but to give me notice, when my niggar shall stand at theShipin Heavitree to conduct you to myhouse. It is in a rare state of external mortarification; but the interior is tolerable, and there is ample accommodation for man and beast, master and man, or nags, and plenty of wholesome food for the mind and body.
Heavitree House,May 3 [1835], Friday Evening.
We had a drenching rain this morning; it had not rained for many weeks (it seldom rains except when testy gentlemen come down in July), but just when Lord Johnny came forward, the heavens poured forth their phials by buckets. The little man, “the widow’s mite,” could not be heard for the sweet acclamations of “O’Connell,” “The tail,” “Cut it short,” “Here’s the Bishop coming.” At every sentence was a chorus, “That’s a new lie.” All Devon was assembled. The Parkermobvery noisy and violent, but all yeomen and substantial farmers. Johnny’s crew a sad set, hired at 2/6ᵈ per man. He was supported by Lord Ebrington and Dr. Bowring.
Bulteel proposed Johnny; seconded by Lillifant, a sort of a methodist, a member of the temperance society, which occasioned much fun and cries of “Heavy wet,” “Brandy.” Parker (a dandy-looking youth) was proposed in a loud, bold, and successful speech by Baldwin Fulford, Jr., and seconded in a quieter and gentlemanlike manner by Stafford Northcote (fils, the Wykehamist). By this time I was so wet that I made off for Heavitree, and found my myrtles just washed by a shower, etc.
I dined yesterday with all the Rads, and sat next to Dr. Bowring. They do not seem over-confident.The Conservatives say that Parker has a numerical majority, as far as promises go, of 700. They say the Rads are spending money by sackfuls in inducing Parkerites not to vote at all.
I dined the other day withEpiscopus, who made grateful mention of your Excellency, and rejoices in the prospect of your arrival. So you are in for it, and have nothing to do but to give me notice, when my niggar shall stand at theShipin Heavitree to conduct you to myhouse. It is in a rare state of external mortarification; but the interior is tolerable, and there is ample accommodation for man and beast, master and man, or nags, and plenty of wholesome food for the mind and body.
For the next eighteen months there are but few allusions in Ford’s letters to his literary plans, and still fewer to politics. Heavitree was the absorbing occupation of his life.
“Since you have been gone” (he writes to Addington, June 21st, 1833), “I have laid the axe to the foot of the trees, and have cut down some twenty apples in my orchard, which has let in a great deal of light and sun, and rejoiced the green grass below. The weather delicious; thermometer 79 in the shade. I sit under my drooping elm and cock up my head when I read the works of Socrates, Plato, and Lady Morgan.“‘Les deux tiers de ma vie sont écoulés. Pourquoi m’inquieter sur ce qui m’en reste? La plus brillante fortune ne mérite point les tourments que l’on se donne. Le meilleur de tous les biens, s’il y a des biens, c’est le repos, la retraite, et un endroit qui soit sa domaine.’ There’s a black cat for your Excellency to swallow!”
“Since you have been gone” (he writes to Addington, June 21st, 1833), “I have laid the axe to the foot of the trees, and have cut down some twenty apples in my orchard, which has let in a great deal of light and sun, and rejoiced the green grass below. The weather delicious; thermometer 79 in the shade. I sit under my drooping elm and cock up my head when I read the works of Socrates, Plato, and Lady Morgan.
“‘Les deux tiers de ma vie sont écoulés. Pourquoi m’inquieter sur ce qui m’en reste? La plus brillante fortune ne mérite point les tourments que l’on se donne. Le meilleur de tous les biens, s’il y a des biens, c’est le repos, la retraite, et un endroit qui soit sa domaine.’ There’s a black cat for your Excellency to swallow!”
Beyond his cob walls Ford scarcely cared, even in mind, to travel. But in the affairs of his friends he was still deeply interested, and especially in the marriages of Lord King and of Addington. On July 8th, 1835, Lord King (cr. 1838 Earl of Lovelace) was married to Augusta Ada, only daughter of Byron.
“The Baron’s bride” (he writes in June) “will be worthy of himself in name and fortune. I guessed who she was by his sighs and unpremeditated discoveries. La Bruyère says, ‘In friendship a secret is confided; in loveil nous échappe.’Viva el Amor!”
“The Baron’s bride” (he writes in June) “will be worthy of himself in name and fortune. I guessed who she was by his sighs and unpremeditated discoveries. La Bruyère says, ‘In friendship a secret is confided; in loveil nous échappe.’Viva el Amor!”
A few days later Ford returns to the subject:
‘Ada! sole daughter of my house and heart!’ From the Baron’s account she must be perfection, such a perfection as her father’s fancy and fine phrenzy rolling would have imagined. She is highly simple, hateth the city and gay world, and will not be likely to turn up her nose at you and me, the respectable aged friends of her lord.I believe the Baron has all the elements of domestic felicity in his composition, and it will go hard even if he did not make a good wife out of bad materials. But when theprima materiais worthy of himself, we must expect a scion worthy of the descendants of Locke and Byron, the union of philosophical esteem with poetic ardour.The book does not progress as much as the chimneys. I never go beyond my cob walls, have never been out fishing, and probably never shall until you reappear in these regions.
‘Ada! sole daughter of my house and heart!’ From the Baron’s account she must be perfection, such a perfection as her father’s fancy and fine phrenzy rolling would have imagined. She is highly simple, hateth the city and gay world, and will not be likely to turn up her nose at you and me, the respectable aged friends of her lord.
I believe the Baron has all the elements of domestic felicity in his composition, and it will go hard even if he did not make a good wife out of bad materials. But when theprima materiais worthy of himself, we must expect a scion worthy of the descendants of Locke and Byron, the union of philosophical esteem with poetic ardour.
The book does not progress as much as the chimneys. I never go beyond my cob walls, have never been out fishing, and probably never shall until you reappear in these regions.
Little more than a year later, Ford was writing to congratulate Addington on his engagement.
Heavitree,October 13, 1836.Dear Addington,You are right. From 20 to 40 a man takes a wife, as a mistress; and sometimes makes a mistake, gets tired, and wants to change horses. From 40 to 50 (sometimes 55) a man hugs a spouse to his bosom, for comfort and sweet companionship. When the hopes of youth, the heyday of manhood, the recklessness of health and prosperity are waning,—when he begins to know how few things answer, and how hard it is to depend on one’s own resources to pass well through the long day and longer night,—then it is not good to be alone.You have felt that, and have now chosen the right moment. Your wild oats are sown, a good crop of experience reaped, and you have found (and there is no mistake) that the solitary, selfish system won’t do.Happy, thrice happy are you to be able to bind yourself in those golden threads, woven by friendship, esteem and love! For love, asine quâ non, must be tempered to become durable.Felix quem faciunt aliena pericula cautum.You will find, after having had your own way so long, how much more it tends to peace of mind to give up and be nicely managed and taken care of. You may amuse yourself with the superintendence of your cellar, and keep a bottle of Valdepeñas for those old friends who may occasionally drop in, and twaddle about that fair land peopled by devils incarnate, male and female.I have no news. I am content to dig in my garden; like Candide,il faut cultiver son jardin—an innocent, refreshing occupation, which gives health to the body, peace to the mind, oblivion for the past, hopes for the future;—to do no more harm, if possible, and as much good,—to bury resentments and cultivate peace and goodwill, read my Bible and mind my purse, and thank my stars that matters are no worse.The Elizabethan apartment is finished and furnished.Esta casa esta muy a la disposicion de V.E. y de mi Señora (cuyos pies beso) la Esposa de V.E.I beg you will speak kindly of me to your fair bride, as I am anxious to stand well in her opinion. I have had the good fortune hitherto to have lost neither of two old friends who have recently married.If your Reading plan fails, there are really some very nice places within 5 and 8 miles of Exon, cheap and delightful. You can make the place your headquarters, if you have a fancy to look for habitations amid the green valleys of Devon.So, with the best and sincerest wishes for the unmixed and long happiness of Bride and Bridegroom, and it can hardly fail to be so, believe me,Ever most truly yours,Richard Ford.
Heavitree,October 13, 1836.
Dear Addington,
You are right. From 20 to 40 a man takes a wife, as a mistress; and sometimes makes a mistake, gets tired, and wants to change horses. From 40 to 50 (sometimes 55) a man hugs a spouse to his bosom, for comfort and sweet companionship. When the hopes of youth, the heyday of manhood, the recklessness of health and prosperity are waning,—when he begins to know how few things answer, and how hard it is to depend on one’s own resources to pass well through the long day and longer night,—then it is not good to be alone.You have felt that, and have now chosen the right moment. Your wild oats are sown, a good crop of experience reaped, and you have found (and there is no mistake) that the solitary, selfish system won’t do.
Happy, thrice happy are you to be able to bind yourself in those golden threads, woven by friendship, esteem and love! For love, asine quâ non, must be tempered to become durable.Felix quem faciunt aliena pericula cautum.
You will find, after having had your own way so long, how much more it tends to peace of mind to give up and be nicely managed and taken care of. You may amuse yourself with the superintendence of your cellar, and keep a bottle of Valdepeñas for those old friends who may occasionally drop in, and twaddle about that fair land peopled by devils incarnate, male and female.
I have no news. I am content to dig in my garden; like Candide,il faut cultiver son jardin—an innocent, refreshing occupation, which gives health to the body, peace to the mind, oblivion for the past, hopes for the future;—to do no more harm, if possible, and as much good,—to bury resentments and cultivate peace and goodwill, read my Bible and mind my purse, and thank my stars that matters are no worse.
The Elizabethan apartment is finished and furnished.Esta casa esta muy a la disposicion de V.E. y de mi Señora (cuyos pies beso) la Esposa de V.E.I beg you will speak kindly of me to your fair bride, as I am anxious to stand well in her opinion. I have had the good fortune hitherto to have lost neither of two old friends who have recently married.
If your Reading plan fails, there are really some very nice places within 5 and 8 miles of Exon, cheap and delightful. You can make the place your headquarters, if you have a fancy to look for habitations amid the green valleys of Devon.
So, with the best and sincerest wishes for the unmixed and long happiness of Bride and Bridegroom, and it can hardly fail to be so, believe me,
Ever most truly yours,Richard Ford.
Addington was married on November 17th, 1836, to Eleanor Anne, eldest daughter of T. G. Bucknall Estcourt, M.P. Meanwhile Heavitree rapidly approached completion. Three weeks later Ford announces (December 9th, 1836) that his house was ready. “Heavitree,” he says, “is finished and furnished, and really is a little gem in its way. TheEpiscopushas been to dine here, and, as he dines nowhere, it is rather an honour and has infused an odour of sanctity over my cell.”
It is not perhaps singular, after so long a devotion to building, that the first article which Ford contributed to theQuarterly Reviewshould have been dedicated to “Cob Walls.” The substance of the article seems from the following letter (February 27th, 1837) to have been a paper read before the ExeterAthenæum. Among the audience was William Nassau Senior, whose praise led Lockhart to ask to publish it in theQuarterly.
Cob, depend upon it, is indestructible. I am about next week to read a learned paper on that very subject at the Athenæum, which I will send you, with a chapter on Spanish Comedy.The house at Heavitree is now in really a very habitable state, and the gardens beginning to put on their spring livery. I was heartily glad to get out of that plague-stricken, foggy, heart-and-soul-withering city of London, where I was detained more than a month by the illness of my boy, who is still far from well and unable to return to his tutor. I am occupied in the parental task of teaching him chess and the Greek alphabet. I saw very few of our mutual friends in London, as I was, like the rest of mankind, under the lowering influenza.I have no news here,—leading a humdrum life amid my flowers and books, with a clean tongue and dirty hands,oblitus et obliviscendus.
Cob, depend upon it, is indestructible. I am about next week to read a learned paper on that very subject at the Athenæum, which I will send you, with a chapter on Spanish Comedy.
The house at Heavitree is now in really a very habitable state, and the gardens beginning to put on their spring livery. I was heartily glad to get out of that plague-stricken, foggy, heart-and-soul-withering city of London, where I was detained more than a month by the illness of my boy, who is still far from well and unable to return to his tutor. I am occupied in the parental task of teaching him chess and the Greek alphabet. I saw very few of our mutual friends in London, as I was, like the rest of mankind, under the lowering influenza.
I have no news here,—leading a humdrum life amid my flowers and books, with a clean tongue and dirty hands,oblitus et obliviscendus.
Ford’s article on “Cob Walls” well illustrates his literary methods. The mass of miscellaneous learning, which is concentrated on an unpromising subject, is so humorously handled as to be entirely free from pedantry. He traces the use of the material from the time of Cain to that of modern peasants in France and Spain, from the walls of Babylon to the white villages of Andalusia. Finally he hazards the bold speculation that it was introduced into the West of England by Phœnician traders. But, interspersed with doubtful theories and historical and classical lore, are clear directions and practical rules for the composition and employment of a material which is almost indestructible, if it is protected from damp above and below, or has, to quote the Devonshire saying, a good hat and a pair of shoes.
Encouraged by his success, Ford was already engaged on other literary subjects, when his work was interrupted by the death of his wife, who had long been in delicate health. The news is communicated to Addington in the following letter:—
Monday[15 May, 1837], 123,Park Street[London].You will be sadly shocked with the melancholy import of this letter; indeed I am so overwhelmed that I hardly know how to express myself. My poor wife died yesterday morning! She, as you know, never was well, and latterly has suffered from excruciating headaches which deprived her entirely of rest. Last Sunday week she was seized
Monday[15 May, 1837], 123,Park Street[London].
You will be sadly shocked with the melancholy import of this letter; indeed I am so overwhelmed that I hardly know how to express myself. My poor wife died yesterday morning! She, as you know, never was well, and latterly has suffered from excruciating headaches which deprived her entirely of rest. Last Sunday week she was seized
Emery Walker Ph Sc.Harriet Fordfirst wife of Richard Ford1830.
Emery Walker Ph Sc.Harriet Fordfirst wife of Richard Ford1830.
Emery Walker Ph Sc.
Harriet Ford
first wife of Richard Ford
1830.
with a sort of paralysis of the brain and loss of speech. She remained a few days sensible and recognising those who came into the room; but on Friday all consciousness was gone, and she yesterday morning at quarter past 9 breathed her last. I am dreadfully afflicted.
with a sort of paralysis of the brain and loss of speech. She remained a few days sensible and recognising those who came into the room; but on Friday all consciousness was gone, and she yesterday morning at quarter past 9 breathed her last. I am dreadfully afflicted.
Literary Work—Engagement and Second Marriage—Articles in theQuarterly Review—Preparations for a Tour on the Continent—Promise to Write theHandbook for Travellers in Spain—Delays and Interruptions—George Borrow—Reviews of theZincaliand theBible in Spain—Suppression of the First Edition of theHandbook—Final Publication—TheFelicidade.
Literary Work—Engagement and Second Marriage—Articles in theQuarterly Review—Preparations for a Tour on the Continent—Promise to Write theHandbook for Travellers in Spain—Delays and Interruptions—George Borrow—Reviews of theZincaliand theBible in Spain—Suppression of the First Edition of theHandbook—Final Publication—TheFelicidade.
Byhis wife’s death Ford was left with the sole care of the two daughters and the son, who alone survived out of the six children born to them. He continued to live on at Heavitree, planning improvements in his house and garden, busy with his books and pen. During the first few months of 1837 he contributed two articles to theQuarterly Review.[44]He also published his first independent work,An Historical Inquiry into the Unchangeable Character of a War in Spain, in which he made a lively, vigorous reply, from a Tory pointof view, to a pamphlet written in defence of Lord Palmerston’s attitude towards Spain,The Policy of England towards Spain.
As usual, his work was submitted to Addington for criticism.
In your miserable days of celibacy (he writes to his friend in May 1837) you waded through much of my MSS. Now I only trouble you with print, as you have less time to devote to those solitary occupations. I send you the proofs of a review on Pückler Muskau. Will you skim it over, and send it backpertwopenny post? If you object to anything, or can add a barb or sting to any critical fish-hook, do so.You will see “Cob” in the last number of theQuarterly.Viva Don Carlos!
In your miserable days of celibacy (he writes to his friend in May 1837) you waded through much of my MSS. Now I only trouble you with print, as you have less time to devote to those solitary occupations. I send you the proofs of a review on Pückler Muskau. Will you skim it over, and send it backpertwopenny post? If you object to anything, or can add a barb or sting to any critical fish-hook, do so.
You will see “Cob” in the last number of theQuarterly.Viva Don Carlos!
Addington’s criticisms were gratefully received, and his suggestions generally adopted. But Ford could not, if he had wished, write otherwise than he was. He had the good sense to know, and not to attempt, the impossible.