Chapter VII: First French Journey, 1786-1787

Death of my brother—Anecdotes of his character—Dr. Burney on
farming—Greenwich _versus_ Eton—Blenheim—Correspondence with Dr.
Priestley—County toasts—French projects—First French journey.

This year my brother died. He was in the habit of hunting with the King, and having heard of a very fine hunter to be sold in Herefordshire, he sent his servant to purchase him. It was the end of the season, but the King appointing one day more for the sport, Dr. Young determined to try his new horse, and he went in company with another gentleman to the field. His friend observed to him that his horse tripped in an odd manner, to which Dr. Y. replied: ‘It is the last day of hunting, and I shall see how he performs.’ ‘Take care,’ said the other, ‘that it is not the last day of your life.’ He persisted in the trial, and was for a time much pleased with his horse in several leaps; in taking another it struck its own legs against an obstruction, threw his rider, whose neck was instantly broken. He was taken up dead and carried home. Thus died my nearest relative, who was a man of very peculiar talents and of most singular originality of character. He had a great deal of eccentric wit, and was extremely beloved by many intimate friends, amongst whom were several of the Townshends, Cornwallises, and the Duke of Grafton, with whom he was on the most intimate terms, and was a great favourite of the Duchess. Cornwallis, Archbishop of Canterbury, valued him so much for his rectitude of conduct in this that he determined to promote him to the best preferment that should fall in his gift, and I have several letters from him repeating this intention. Thus ended a life that promised so many advantages, for he was high in favour with the King, who was pleased not only frequently to converse with him, but to ask his opinion respecting many sermons which were at that time published. Thus high in expectation of further promotion, to lose his life in so unexpected and sudden a manner was indeed singularly awful and unfortunate. It was a dreadful blow also to all my son’s hopes, for as he was educating at Eton for the Church, my brother, who had his turn as Fellow of Eton and Prebendary of Worcester in about seventy pieces of preferment, and had passed all by that came to give away, stood high in the lists purposely with a view of promoting Arthur.[105] There was in Dr. Young a steady rectitude of principle, an absolute abhorrence of every mean and unworthy action, great natural parts, and as he had been Captain (I think), or very near it, of Eton School, he went to King’s at Cambridge a capital scholar.

The following anecdote relative to my brother I copy from a letter to my wife, written by my old friend Professor Symonds:—

‘I assure you, Madam, that I was really at a loss to conjecture
whether you were in earnest or not when you desired an answer to your
letter; but in case you were in earnest (which I can now hardly think,
since the question might be answered better in conversation), you must
be surprised and offended by my neglect; but I defy you to have been
more surprised than you will be at my charging your husband with this
letter. I concealed from him the purport of it, but judged it
necessary to inform him that there was not the shadow of an intrigue
between us.

‘So far the prologue; now for the anecdote, which is just as
interesting as thousands are which are daily propagated. It was about
two years before the divorce of the Duchess of Grafton that her Grace
and Lord March played at “brag” for two or three hours one evening at
Euston; the others—viz. the Duke and Mr. Vary and Jack Young—looked
over without playing at all. Lord M. had been very forward in
“bragging,” but threw up his cards afterwards when he had three
knaves, whether he had a presentiment that the Duchess had three aces
or whether he had artfully seen her hand. This cowardice struck Jack
Young so sensibly that he fixed his eyes very sternly on Lord M., and
addressed him thus: "Why! March, thou art the most dunghill Scots’
peer that I ever met with." His Lordship instantly arose from his
chair, filled with indignation, and whilst he was wavering whether he
should use a poker or some other instrument, the Duke said to him: “I
find, Lord March, that my friend Jack Young treats you as he
constantly treats my wife and me.” This prudent and good-natured
interference disarmed Lord M., and they all passed the evening
pleasantly. You may depend upon the truth of this story, as I had it
from Mr. Vary.

‘I remain, dear Madam
‘Yours, &c. &c.,
‘J. SYMONDS.’

The next anecdote was considered at the time by all who heard it to redound to the credit of my brother. In one of his visits to Euston he arrived unexpectedly and late in the afternoon, and immediately went to the room always appropriated to him to dress for dinner, and thence proceeded directly into the dining-room, when, to his astonishment, he perceived sitting at the head of the table the notorious Nancy Parsons instead of the Duchess. He instantly drew back, at the same moment extending his arms to mark his astonishment. The Duke went up to him with a conciliatory air, took his arm and said: ‘Come, come, Jack, these things are always done in a hurry without consideration. I had no time to make alterations or inform you. I will explain afterwards.’ But he only answered with a shake of his head, and, shrugging up his huge shoulders, retired, mounted his horse, and reached Bradfield the same night, a distance of nearly fifteen miles.

It should be remembered at this time the Duke was Prime Minister and the Doctor looking up to him for further preferment. By this he lost a bishopric.

I was at Bradfield, and received an express[106] from Dr. Roberts, Provost of Eton, to inform me of the accident, which called me thither at once. I resided there some time on account of my brother’s affairs, dining every day with the Provost and Fellows. On the same account I was obliged to go to Worcester, where he was a Prebendary and Rector of St. John’s in that city. Dr. Y. died without a will, as he had often told me he would do. When all his affairs were settled I returned to Bradfield. So sudden and dreadful an accident affected me deeply; there is something in such deaths that strikes every feeling of the soul. In the midst of the rapid movements of that animated amusement, in one moment to be hurried into another world without one thought of preparation has something tremendously formidable in it; yet every one is liable to deaths equally sudden, and the suggestion ought to be universal: ‘Prepare to meet thy God.’ The misery is that thousands sitting in their chairs and with ample time for preparation are apt to think of any subject rather than this most important of all.

_l._

[No date, but evidently written at this period.]

‘As I should be sorry to keep from you anything that must give you
pleasure in your welfare of your children, I shall report a
conversation with Dr. Langford, the under-master, who my brother got
the Prebendary of Worcester for by speaking to Lord Sidney.

‘On his calling on me I lamented the loss—in which he joined
warmly—spoke highly of my brother as his friend. I said that my bosom
had all the feelings of affection for him, but that the loss to my
poor boy was nothing short of ruin. He had no friend left. “No,”
replied he, "don’t say that, for give me leave to say that, feeling as
I do the obligations I have been under to Dr. Young, I must be allowed
to call myself his friend. If I succeed in life I will be a friend to
him, and I hope his progress in his learning will permit me to be so."
He said more to the same purpose, and as he is a rising man in a
situation that gives him power to act according to his feelings, I
hope he will remember it. But the account Mr. Heath gives me is by no
means satisfactory, and sorry I am to say that Arthur seems determined
to do little for himself. He is now at a crisis, and sinks or swims. I
gave Mr. Heath three guineas that he might encourage him with a crown
now and then (as from himself) when he did well, but don’t write of
that to him, and desired him to write me when he was negligent. My
brother’s affairs turn out very badly; bills to the amount of 360_l._
now lie unpaid before me here, besides Worcester, and I can see no
more than 260_l._ to pay it. I hear a bad account of the Rectory at
Worcester, but suspend all judgment till the whole is before me.

‘A. Y.’

Two honours were this year added to my name, by being elected into the Patriotic Society of Milan and that of the Geographical Society of Florence. I had also a visit from a Polish nobleman, Count Kalaskowski, who spent some time with me at Bradfield. The letters I received this year were numerous, and many of them very interesting. From the number I have selected the following:—

From Dr. Burney, on reading my ‘Annals’ and a character of Handel. This was after he had been at Bradfield.

‘August 1, 1786.

‘What have I without an inch of land to do with farming? Is it the
subject or manner of treating it, or both that fascinated me, when you
first were so kind, my dear friend, as to send me some of your "Annals
of Agriculture"? I was in the midst of my winter’s hurricane and
immersed in other pursuits, but now, having conversed with some of
your correspondents, seen your farm, and rubbed up my old rusticity,
all my love for country matters returns, and I sincerely wish myself a
villager. You seem to have worked yourself up to a true pitch of
patriotism, and I think, besides the instructions the essays convey,
that your knowledge on the subject, and animated reasoning, and
admonitions, must have a national effect. Your book fastened on me so
much on the road that I hardly looked on anything else. Mr. Symonds’
essays on “Italian Husbandry”[107] are extremely curious, and furnish
a species of information totally different from what can be acquired
from the perusal of any other author. Many of the communications in
the three first volumes, of which I have almost read every word, seem
to me instructive, amusing, and masterly. My countryman, Mr. Harris,
of Hanwood, in Shropshire (the birthplace of my father and
grandfather), seems a notable planter. As editor and chief of the
_Agricola_ family, I think you merit the thanks of every Englishman,
not only who loves his country, but who loves his _belly_, for if your
discoveries, improvements, and instructions are followed, we may
certainly always find upon our own island _de quoi manger_.

‘Now I would not have you, my dear Arthur, put contempt upon my
praises, as coming from a Londoner, whom you may regard as a mere
Cock-neigh immersed in the vanities, follies, and dissipation of the
Capital, for then I’d have you to know that I reckon myself a
countryman born and bred as much as yourself. I never was within the
smell of sweet London till I was eighteen, and then, you know, I lived
during nine of the best years of my life in Norfolk among the best
farmers in Europe. Indeed, if I were ten or a dozen years younger than
I am, I believe I should take your white house and all the land about
it you could spare, and enter myself for your scholar, and run for the
give and take plate; you know that I have been _giving_ lessons all my
life; it is now high time I should take some. As to London, if it were
not for a few friends whom I sincerely love, and for its vicinity to
several branches of my family, I would take half a crown never to see
its sights or hear its sounds again.

‘My friend, honest Arthur, who is a very ingenious, good-natured lad,
will deliver to you a copy of my account of the “Commemoration of
Handel;” it is not so good a one as I wish to send, though the best in
my possession. I beg when you have nothing better to do that you will
read it without too strong prejudices against Old Handel; for though
he is called a Goth by fine travelled gentlemen, accustomed to more
modern music and to posthumous refinements, yet candour and true
knowledge must allow that he was the greatest man of his time, and
that he had a force and majesty that suited our national character,
and when you look at the list of his works you will allow that his
resources were wonderful. His own performance on the organ was perhaps
more superior than that of any inhabitant of this country, even than
his compositions. Upon the whole, though I am far from wishing to put
an extinguisher upon every other candidate for musical fame, yet it
would be the height of injustice not to allow that this country was
much obliged to his genius and talent, and that the late performances
of his productions do honour to the cultivation of musick in this
kingdom, as well as to our national gratitude.

‘I beg you will present my affectionate compliments to Mrs. Young, and
best thanks for the hospitality and kindness with which she treated us
at Bradfield; and pray give our hearty love to the gentle, sweet, and
amiable Miss Bessy.

‘And believe me to be, with very sincere regard,

‘Your affectionate
‘CHARLES BURNEY.’

From John Symonds, Esq., on the examination of the boys at Greenwich School for speaking Latin. Gold medal &c. given to master and boys. [A curious letter.]

‘St. Edmund’s Hill: December 1786.

‘My dearest Friend,—I returned hither yesterday, and shall go to
Euston on Thursday to pass five or six days there. The Bishop of
Peterborough will return with me, but whether on Wednesday or Thursday
se’nnight I know not, but I will send you a line soon after I get
there, and I hope you will keep yourself free from engagements those
two days. You may possibly have seen or heard of a remarkable
circumstance that does equal honour to the Society of Arts and to
Greenwich School.

‘The Society decreed a gold medal to that schoolmaster who should
teach his boys to speak the best Latin. This was claimed last week by
the schoolmaster of Greenwich.[108] Sir William Fordyce and my friend
Professor Martin were appointed Examiners. More, the Secretary,
requested Bishop Watson to attend, who excused himself, as he was
obliged shortly to leave London. Five boys attended with their master.
The Examiners had prepared a great number of questions such as boys
maybe supposed to understand. These were put in Latin and answered in
Latin without hesitation. The boys were then ordered to withdraw into
a private room together, and to make an original composition in Latin
without the help of a dictionary. This they all performed in half an
hour. Then the Examiners asked numberless questions in English, which
were answered immediately in Latin. The gold medal was given to the
schoolmaster, and five silver ones of equal value to the five boys,
who were pretty much upon an equality, and what is surprising is that
not one of the five had learned Latin longer than two years and a
half, and the eldest of them was not above thirteen years. You may be
certain that this is true, as I saw it in a letter from Martin to his
brother-in-law, the Vice-Chancellor, and he concludes it by saying
“that they all spoke Latin with fluency, propriety, and elegance.”
Were I possessed but of a small portion of the fire with which you are
animated, I should cry out with a generous indignation, “Blush, ye
proud seminaries of Eton and Westminster,” &c. &c. &c.

‘My compliments _aux Polonais_.

‘I am now set down in earnest to renew acquaintance with my Italian
_agricoltori_.

‘Ever affectionately,
‘JOHN SYMONDS.’

In a Westerly Tour I made this year, amongst numerous other places I visited Blenheim, and made the following memorandum:—

‘Viewed the pleasure ground at Blenheim, the enclosed part of which
consists of 200 acres, with the water near 300. It can scarcely be too
much admired; the whole environ of the water is fine, various in its
feature, with the character of magnificence everywhere impressed. The
cascade scenery, viewed independently of the new improvements, is
extremely pleasing, and indeed wants nothing but a deeper and more
umbrageous shade for an accompaniment. The new walks, caves,
fountains, and statues do not, however, seem entirely calculated to
add to the beauty of the scenery. The most splendid view is from the
walk leading from the cascade to the house. There are two points
nearly similar, where are benches; the water fills the bottom of the
vale in the style of a very noble river; few, indeed, in the kingdom
exceed it. We may conjecture that if Brown, in the exultation of his
heart, really said that the Thames would never pardon his superb
imitation for exceeding the original, it was the view from one of
these benches that inspired the sentiment. The proud waves that roll
at your feet; the declivity steep enough to make the water and every
contiguous scene more interesting to the eye; the opposite shore, a
hill spread with wood that hangs with forest boldness to the water;
the whole is formed to make an impression on the mind. No ill-judged
decoration weakens by dividing the effect; no intruding objects hurt
the simplicity of the scene. I know not any artificial scene that is
finer. The concluding one where the water expands is great, but I
think inferior to this. But to return——

[_l._]

It appears this year[109] that I was engaged in a pursuit entirely new to me, that of making many new and pneumatic experiments on expelling gas from soils, manures, and various other substances, in order to ascertain whether there was any connection between the quantity and species of such gas (from _Geist_, German for ghost, spirit. Authority, B. of Llandaff, _see_ Newman’s ‘Trans. of Boerhave’s Chemistry’) and the fertility of the soils from which my specimens were selected. It seems that I prosecuted this enquiry with diligence; and as it was my commencement in chemistry, I corresponded upon the subject with Dr. Priestley, and went to Cambridge for the conversation of Mr. Milner, then Professor of Chemistry in that University. The result of my experiments was very remarkable, for I decided, after a very careful deduction from the result of all my trials, that there existed a very intimate, and almost unbroken, connection between the fertility of land and the gas to be expelled from it. This was an entirely new discovery belonging to me only, and it has been quoted by many celebrated chemists in a manner which showed that they considered me as the origin of it. I sent a detail of my trials to the Royal Society, through the hands of Mr. Magellan,[110] as my paper contained some eudiometrical experiments made with the eudiometer invented by that philosopher. Mentioning to a friend what I had done, ‘You have been very foolish,’ observed the friend, ‘for depend upon it your paper will never get into the “Philosophical Transactions.”’ Expressing my surprise, I demanded the reason. ‘Why, know you not,’ he replied, ‘that there is a most inveterate hostility between Sir J. Banks and Magellan, from a violent quarrel, and Sir J. is not a man to permit anything to be printed that comes through hands offensive to him, especially as the paper is to the credit of Magellan’s instrument?’ The event proved the truth of this prediction, but this did not prevent my labours being duly appreciated by those who were the most competent judges. In the pursuit of these trials I gradually established and furnished a laboratory, sufficient for my own enquiries, at about 150_l._ expense.

_l._

‘Birmingham: Jan. 27, 1783.

‘Dear Sir,—There is no person I should serve with more pleasure than
you, because there is no person whose pursuits are more eminently
useful to the world. You alone have certainly done more to promote
agriculture, and especially to render it reputable, in this country
than all that have gone before you. But the little I might do to aid
your investigations will be reduced to a small matter indeed by my
distance from you.

‘All that I should be able to do with water would be to expel by heat
all the air it contains, and then examine, by nitrous air, how much
phlogiston that air contains, but it is very possible that the fitness
of water for irrigating meadows may depend upon something besides the
phlogiston it contains. Experiment alone can determine these things. I
never heard before of the inference, you say, has been drawn from my
doctrine with respect to the use of light in vegetation. I know of no
use that light is of to the _soil_. The whole effect is on the _living
plant_, enabling it to convert the impure air it meets with in water
or in the atmosphere into pure air. When that end is effected that
water is of no further use to it. Plants will not thrive unless both
their leaves and roots be exposed to air in some degrees impure. This
I have fully ascertained, but I am afraid that the doctrine is not
capable of much practical application.

‘I know of no method of conveying phlogiston to the roots of plants
but as combined with water, and this seems to be done in the best way
by a mixture of putrid matter. Water will not imbibe much inflammable
air. I find volatile alkali to contain much phlogiston. It is indeed
almost another modification of the same thing.

‘Since my last, I have hit upon various methods of converting water
into permanent air. It is sufficient to give it something more than a
boiling heat. If I only put an ounce of water into a porous earthen
retort, I get a hundred ounce measures of air from it, and when I
have, in this manner, got near an ounce weight of air from the same
retort, it has not weighed one grain less than it did.

‘I shall be glad to hear the result of your experiments, and am truly
sorry that I can do so little for you.

‘J. PRIESTLEY.’

‘Birmingham: March 31, 1783.

‘Dear Sir,—I received from Mr. More[111] two bottles of water, one
marked Ｘ, which Mr. Boswell informed him was from the spring mentioned
in his “Treatise on Watering Meadows,” and another without any mark
from a spring arising in a bed of sand, and I examined them
immediately. I found the former to contain air much purer than that of
the atmosphere; but the latter air was much worse, that is,
phlogisticated; a candle could hardly have burned in it. This last I
should think to be the better spring for the watering of meadows, or
perhaps it might have been better corked; for on the 19th, though I
put the corks in again immediately, but without any cement, I found
the air in both very pure, more so than the purest before, and hardly
to be distinguished, and they were so this day when I examined them
again. They should be examined on the spot. The air in the spring from
the sand was much warmer than that in my pump water, or than that of
water in general. But water exposed to the open air soon loses the
phlogiston it contains.

‘Perhaps much of the effect of water on meadows is that, at this time
of the year, it comes out of the earth considerably warmer than the
roots of the grass. What think you of this?

‘I expect to set out for London this day three weeks, and shall stay
there about a fortnight. I should be glad to meet you there, when we
shall find an hour’s conversation better than all our correspondence.
Wishing you success in all your laudable pursuits.

‘I am, dear Sir,
‘Yours &c. &c.
‘J. PRIESTLEY.’

At Chadacre, six miles from Bury, resided John Plampin, Esq.[112] who had three daughters, all, at this time, unmarried and at home. I was intimately acquainted with them. Two of these ladies were much distinguished by their beauty, and reigned as toasts throughout the county: Sophia married afterwards to the Rev. Mr. Macklin, and Betsy married in 1794 to Orbell Ray Oakes, Esq. of Bury. I introduced my friend Lazowski to these ladies, and he was much at Chadacre, admiring not a little the youngest of them. They persuaded their father to give a ball, at which the Duke of Liancourt, his two sons, Lazowski and myself were present, and the evening passed with uncommon hilarity till the rising sun sent us home. Mr. Symonds afterwards gave a weekly ball when the Frenchmen were with him, and these parties were uncommonly agreeable.

Early in the spring of 1787 I received a letter from a friend at Paris, Mons. Lazowski (who had resided two years at Bury, much to my amusement and satisfaction, with the two sons of the Duke of Liancourt), to inform me that he was going with the Count de la Rochefoucault to the Pyrenees, and proposed my being of the party.[113]

‘Liancourt: April 9, 1787.

‘Dear Sir,—I was at Liancourt when I heard from you the last time, so
that I was very uneasy upon the bill which you had drawn upon M. de
Vergennes, who could not be informed by me about it, but very happily
my letter to him went at a proper time, and it has been paid. Nothing
wants now but to have turnips, as your English wit whispers it. But we
have another matter to settle together, if you are not now incumbered.
I told you by the last that it could be, but I would travel this
summer. The case is that the Count is, for the sake of his health,
obliged to go to Bagnères-de-Luchon, in the Pyrénées, to drink those
waters; he asked from me to be his companion, and his relations seemed
to be glad of it. I did therefore comply with his demand, and we are
going about the middle of May, which is the time just of your coming
over to France. Now will you come with us? Such proposition is not a
foolish one. We will pass by a part of France in going, and come back
by another part, so that you will see almost the two-thirds of this
kingdom. You will learn the French; with us everything will be
explained to you; in short, I will be with you, and that is enough, I
hope. That part by which you will pass through is not an uninteresting
one. Look upon a map. You will pass through the Limousin and Toulouse
in going, and in coming back by Bordeaux, &c.; the Pyrénées are very
worth to be seen, and, besides, if nothing very extraordinary prevents
it, we intend to go to Barcelona in Spain, in order to see the
Catalogne,[114] the finest province after that travel. I must not tell
you that I shall be another Arthur here for you, not that I presume to
say that you will find in me an Encyclopædia living as I did in you,
but your friend, and therefore to your commands in Paris and
everywhere. Our manner of travelling is very convenient to you also;
we go with our own horses, you will have one, my servants will be
yours, nothing therefore shall be too much expensive. Have you your
horse? Is it possible to come over with him at a proper time? If not,
do write to me a word, and the Count and I will do our utmost to get
one cheap enough, between fifteen and twenty pounds. If you cannot be
ready here for the 15th of May, we will expect five or six days, but
you see that it is impossible to expect more, since the Count must
drink the waters; in two words, you seemed to wish to see this
kingdom, never you will have such an opportunity; if I am obliged to
stay at Bagnères, nothing will prevent you to make some excursions in
the environs, and you will speak French very well. The whole depends
of your family business. If you cannot now, then you will wait till
September, and we will be at Paris; but you must give greatest of
attention to it, and as soon as your mind will be fixed upon anything
pray do write to me. What devil are you doing about the notables?
(_l._) I suppose you know my mind about the whole by my letter.[115]
M. de Calonne is exiled, so is M. Necker. What will be the result I do
not know, but the notables have missed the way, and they know nothing
of the matter; but public business must give way to what I make a
proposal to you, it is question of nothing else but to travel together
a thousand miles, without more expense but that you would spend
anywhere, &c. &c. so you may go to the devil if you don’t speak well
of me and my prospect. My best compliments to M. Symonds &c. &c.
chiefly Lady Gage and Sir Thomas.

‘Yours for ever,
‘LY.

‘Do not forget to write and to speak about your horse, whether you
will bring yours, or if we must get one for you.’

This was touching a string tremulous to vibrate. I had so long wished for an opportunity to examine France. In the survey of agriculture which I had taken in England and Ireland, of about 7,000 miles, I had calculated, from facts, the rent produce and resources of those Kingdoms, and I had often reflected on the importance of knowing the real situation of France; the effect of Government; the state of the farmers, of the poor—the state and extent of their manufactures with a hundred other enquiries certainly of political importance; yet strange as it may seem not to be found in any French book written from actual observation, all that I was before able to learn having been composed in some great city without travelling beyond the walls. I should accept a very unsatisfactory work upon sheep, written by Mons. Cartier, employed and paid by Government. I had but little time given me to consider of the proposal, but I wrote to learn if they travelled post, because I previously determined in that case not to go. And, further, I requested to know if I were to travel at any other expense than that of myself and horse. The answer was that they travelled with their own horses, and did not propose making more than twenty or twenty-five miles a day; that my expense would be merely what I stated, and mostly in a cheap part of the kingdom. This most agreeable plan I instantaneously acceded to, and soon set out for France on horseback. At Dover, being detained, I copy the following note on that expedition:—

‘_l._—Had the packet sailed this morn as I expected I should not have scaled, as I never did before, Shakespeare’s Cliff. By the way it is by no means so formidable as I expected from it. I think the look down from its perpendicular position very striking, and when I reflected how much more it must be from the summit, the reflection, perhaps, injured the principal effect (_l._). This is a proof that we ought never, when a powerful impression is wished, to advance to the principal point gradually. It should come upon us at once; nor should I have seen Mr. Harris’s drill plough,[116] which I liked much better from seeing it than from the print. But I principally should have wanted time to run over my accounts, to review the debts and credits of several loose memoranda, and find from the result that I had not acted imprudently or unguardedly in omitting the necessary preparations to such a journey. My dear child, my lovely Bobbin, I left in perfect health, the rest of my family well and provided for in every respect as they themselves had chalked out, the ‘Annals’ lodged in the hands of a man on whose friendship and abilities I could entirely confide. Revolving these circumstances in my mind gave me pleasure, so that I could hardly regret in the evening the day which in the morning I had pronounced lost. At night I went into a bye boat[117] and had a villainous passage of fourteen hours. Nine hours rolling at anchor had so fatigued my mare that I thought it necessary for her to rest one day, but next morning I left Calais.

‘_l._—Wait at Desseins three days for a wind, Dover, London, Bradfield, and have more pleasure in giving my little girl a French doll than in viewing Versailles.’[118]

The journey to France cost me 118_l._ 15_s._ 2_d._ Things bought, 20_l._ 17_s._; books, 8_l._ 16_s._ 6_d._

This year I had a long visit at Bradfield from M. Bukaty, nephew to the Polish Ambassador, a heavy, dull man with a Tartar countenance. His intention was to learn agriculture, but he made a poor progress. My correspondence this year contained much variety, and I have reperused many of the letters with much pleasure. In the number were the following:—

From Sir J. Sinclair[119] on clothing for sheep, which he sent and desired me to buy. I did so, and the rest of the flock took them I suppose for beasts of prey, and fled in all directions, till the clothed sheep jumping hedges and ditches soon derobed themselves.

‘Whitehall: April 11, 1787.

‘Sir,—I went yesterday to Knightsbridge, and have ordered the
canvas for covering the sheep, which will be ready next week, and
I shall be glad to know how it can be best forwarded.

‘My idea is to put the coverings on immediately after the sheep
are shorn, when I imagine it would be comfortable instead of
distressing to the animal. That the experiment may have full
justice done I send you three covers of oil skin, three of pretty
strong unoiled canvas, and two done over with Lord Dundonald’s
tar. If lambs are apt to die of cold, would it not be of use to
them?

‘I am, Sir, your obedient servant,
‘JOHN SINCLAIR.’

From Mr. Symonds, an account of his tour in the West &c., of the King and Queen’s visit to Whitbread’s Brew House; duties to the Crown, 52,000_l._ per annum for the brewery alone.

‘Sunning Hill: July 12, 1787.

‘My dear Sir,—I wrote to you from Cornwall, and hope you received
the letter which was directed to Creil. I am returning from a tour
through Devonshire, where I visited Mount Edgecombe, Dartmouth,
Teignmouth, Torbay, Dawlish and Exmouth. At Exeter I passed ten
days with my old friend the Bishop, Dr. Ross, and however I may
have lost my time in other things I certainly was not deficient in
my religious duties, for during the ten days I attended divine
service nineteen times, taking in his Lordship’s private chapel
and the cathedral.

‘After visiting most of the fine seats in Somersetshire &c.
including Lord Radnor’s famous triangular house, I came to
Salisbury, where I met several old acquaintances, and among the
rest Mr. Windham, who published Doddington’s Diary, and who
permitted me to look over the vast collection of Doddington’s
private correspondence, and to copy what I pleased.

‘From Salisbury I came hither, having made nearly a thousand miles
in my gig, without suffering the least inconvenience, either from
weather or accident. Could I do better than to end, as it were, my
tour with a visit to the "Monarch’s and the Muses’ Seats"?

‘The only public news that you can now think of abroad is whether
we are to have peace or war; but I have heard here from very good
authority that Thurlow, Lord Stafford, and Mr. Pitt are for peace,
and that ’tis thought the latter will resign if things take a
different turn.

‘Whitbread expended not less than 15,000_l._ in entertaining the
King and Queen at his brewery. They left off working it three days
before—new clothes—the floor carpeted, and three or four sets of
china made on purpose at Worcester after the most beautiful models
of Sèvres, that the Royal Family might be entertained separately,
though in the same rooms. The King asked Whitbread what he paid
for duties to the Crown, and his Majesty was not a little
surprised to hear that he paid 52,000_l._ for the Brewery alone.
You will say all that is kind for me to the Count and Lazowski.
Madame de Polignac[120] &c., together with the French Ambassador,
have been at the Terrace, where they were received by the King and
Queen. At Bath the French ladies broke the standing rules by all
going to the ball much too late, and on foot, which is not common,
and one danced in coloured gloves.

‘You and I shall agree about the Liancourt Plough as well as most
other things. The Duke’s ideas of farming resemble those of Mons.
Baron, whose self-conceit is exceeded only by his ignorance, and
who must inevitably starve, if he had to gain his bread by
farming, and practised for himself.

‘Adieu. Ever faithfully yours,
‘J. SYMONDS.’

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Footnote 105:

Arthur Young’s only son, born 1769.

Footnote 106:

Express, _n._, a messenger sent on a special errand.—_Webster._

Footnote 107:

Published in the _Annals_.

Footnote 108:

Dr. Egan, Royal Park Academy.

Footnote 109:

The writer’s memory is at fault here. His correspondence with Dr.
Priestley is dated 1783. The letters, however, are given here, as
otherwise they would not be intelligible.

Footnote 110:

Mr. Magellan. This gentleman, often mentioned in A. Y.’s
correspondence as descendant of the great Portuguese discoverer, seems
to have attained some proficiency—even eminence—in science.

Footnote 111:

Secretary to the Society of Arts.

Footnote 112:

An old Suffolk family. Captain Plampin, mentioned in the French
travels, is noticed in the new _Dictionary of National Biography_.

Footnote 113:

M. Lazowski’s broken English is given as we find it.

Footnote 114:

Catalonia.

Footnote 115:

It has been found impossible to include this letter from want of
space.

Footnote 116:

A sort of plough for sowing grain in drills.

Footnote 117:

A chance or passing boat.

Footnote 118:

As Arthur Young’s letters, with trifling excisions, are
incorporated into the famous travels, I do not give them here. His
anxiety about Bobbin is ever apparent. ‘Give Bobbin a kiss for me.
God send her well,’ he writes to his eldest daughter Mary; and, in
another letter, ‘Remember me to your mother, and tell Bobbin I
never forget her.’ ‘The Robin,’ or Bobbin, was now five years old.

Footnote 119:

Statist, political and agricultural writer; born 1754, died 1835.
Sat in Parliament for several constituencies, and took an active
part in political and scientific movements; was also a voluminous
writer.

Footnote 120:

The Prince and Princess de Polignac, after receiving countless
honours, privileges, and substantial favours from Louis XVI. and
the Queen, were among the first to desert them. The present head
of this ancient house married a daughter of Mr. Singer, inventor
of the sewing-machine.

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