foreigner, and indeed it did not often occur to his company that he
was one; for his accent was wonderfully proper, and his language
always copious, always nervous, always full of various allusions,
flowing too with a rapidity worthy of admiration, and far beyond the
power of nineteen in twenty natives. He had also a knowledge of the
solemn language and the gay, could be sublime with Johnson, or
blackguard with the groom; could dispute, could rally, could quibble,
in our language. Baretti has, besides, some skill in music, with a
bass voice, very agreeable, besides a falsetto which he can manage so
as to mimic any singer he hears. I would also trust his knowledge of
painting a long way. These accomplishments, with his extensive power
over every modern language, make him a most pleasing companion while
he is in good humour; and his lofty consciousness of his own
superiority, which made him tenacious of every position, and drew him
into a thousand distresses, did not, I must own, ever disgust me,
till he began to exercise it against myself, and resolve to reign in
our house by fairly defying the mistress of it. Pride, however,
though shocking enough, is never despicable, but vanity, which he
possessed too, in an eminent degree, will sometimes make a man near
sixty ridiculous.
"France displayed all Mr. Baretti's useful powers--he bustled for us,
he catered for us, he took care of the child, he secured an apartment
for the maid, he provided for our safety, our amusement, our repose;
without him the pleasure of that journey would never have balanced
the pain. And great was his disgust, to be sure, when he caught us,
as he often did, ridiculing French manners, French sentiments, &c. I
think he half cryed to Mrs. Payne, the landlady at Dover, on our
return, because we laughed at French cookery, and French
accommodations. Oh, how he would court the maids at the inns abroad,
abuse the men perhaps! and that with a facility not to be exceeded,
as they all confessed, by any of the natives. But so he could in
Spain, I find, and so 'tis plain he could here. I will give one
instance of his skill in our low street language. Walking in a field
near Chelsea, he met a fellow, who, suspecting him from dress and
manner to be a foreigner, said sneeringly, 'Come, Sir, will you show
me the way to France?' 'No, Sir,' says Baretti, instantly, 'but I
will show you the way to Tyburn.' Such, however, was his ignorance in
a certain line, that he once asked Johnson for information who it was
composed the Pater Noster, and I heard him tell Evans[1] the story of
Dives and Lazarus as the subject of a poem he once had composed in
the Milanese dialect, expecting great credit for his powers of
invention. Evans owned to me that he thought the man drunk, whereas
poor Baretti was, both in eating and drinking, a model of temperance.
Had he guessed Evans's thoughts, the parson's gown would scarcely
have saved him a knouting from the ferocious Italian."
[Footnote 1: Evans was a clergyman and rector of Southwark.]
On Oct. 20, 1769, Baretti was tried at the Old Bailey on a charge of
murder, for killing with a pocket knife one of three men who, with a
woman of the town, hustled him in the Haymarket.[1] He was acquitted,
and the event is principally memorable for the appearance of Johnson,
Burke, Grarrick, and Beauclerc as witnesses to character. The
substance of Johnson's evidence is thus given in the "Gentleman's
Magazine":
[Footnote 1: In his defence, he said:--"I hope it will be seen that
my knife was neither a weapon of offence or defence. I wear it to
carve fruit and sweetmeats, and not to kill my fellow creatures. It
is a general custom in France not to put knives on the table, so that
even ladies wear them in their pockets for general use."]
"_Dr. J_.--I believe I began to be acquainted with Mr. Baretti about
the year 1753 or 1754. I have been intimate with him. He is a man of
literature, a very studious man, a man of great diligence. He gets
his living by study. I have no reason to think he was ever disordered
with liquor in his life. A man that I never knew to be otherwise than
peaceable, and a man that I take to be rather timorous.--_Q_. Was he
addicted to pick up women in the streets?--_Dr. J. I_ never knew that
he was.--_Q_. How is he as to eyesight?--_Dr. J._ He does not see me
now, nor do I see him. I do not believe he could be capable of
assaulting any body in the street, without great provocation."
It would seem that Johnson's sensibility, such as it was, was not
very severely taxed.
"_Boswell_.--But suppose now, Sir, that one of your intimate friends
were apprehended for an offence for which he might be hanged?
"_Johnson_.---I should do what I could to bail him; but if he were
once fairly hanged, I should not suffer.
"_Boswell_.--Would you eat your dinner that day, Sir?
"_Johnson_.--Yes, Sir, and eat it as if he were eating it with me.
Why, there's Baretti, who is to be tried for his life to-morrow.
Friends have risen up for him on every side, yet if he should be
hanged, none of them will eat a slice of plum-pudding the less. Sir,
that sympathetic feeling goes a very little way in depressing the
mind."
Steevens relates that one evening previous to the trial a
consultation of Baretti's friends was held at the house of Mr. Cox,
the solicitor. Johnson and Burke were present, and differed as to
some point of the defence. On Steevens observing to Johnson that the
question had been agitated with rather too much warmth, "It may be
so," replied the sage, "for Burke and I should have been of one
opinion if we had had no audience." This is coming very near to--
"Would rather that the man should die
Than his prediction prove a lie."
Two anecdotes of Baretti during his imprisonment are preserved in
"Thraliana":
"When Johnson and Burke went to see Baretti in Newgate, they had
small comfort to give him, and bid him not hope too strongly. 'Why
what can _he_ fear,' says Baretti, placing himself between 'em, 'that
holds two such hands as I do?'
"An Italian came one day to Baretti, when he was in Newgate for
murder, to desire a letter of recommendation for the teaching of his
scholars, when he (Baretti) should be hanged. 'You rascal,' replies
Baretti, in a rage, 'if I were not _in my own apartment_, I would
kick you down stairs directly,'"
The year after his acquittal Baretti published "Travels through
Spain, Portugal, and France;" thus mentioned by Johnson in a Letter
to Mrs, Thrale, dated Lichfield, July 20, 1770:
"That Baretti's book would please you all, I made no doubt. I know
not whether the world has ever seen such travels before. Those whose
lot it is to ramble can seldom write, and those who know how to write
can seldom ramble." The rate of pay showed that the world was aware
of the value of the acquisition. He gained _500l._ by this book. His
"Frusta Letteraria," published some time before in Italy, had also
attracted much attention, and, according to Johnson, he was the first
who ever received money for copyright in Italy,
In a biographical notice of Baretti which appeared in the
"Gentleman's Magazine" for May, 1789, written by Dr. Vincent, Dean of
Westminster, it is stated that it was not distress which compelled
him to accept Mr. Thrale's hospitality, but that he was overpersuaded
by Johnson, contrary to his own inclination, to undertake the
instruction of the Misses Thrale in Italian. "He was either nine or
eleven years almost entirely in that family," says the Dean, "though
he still rented a lodging in town, during which period he expended
his own _500l._, and received nothing in return for his instruction,
but the participation of a good table, and _150l._ by way of
presents. Instead of his letters to Mrs. Piozzi in the 'European
Magazine,' had he told this plain unvarnished tale, he would have
convicted that lady of avarice and ingratitude, without incurring the
danger of a reply, or exposing his memory to be insulted by her
advocates."
He was less than three years in the family. As he had a pension of
_80l._ a year, besides the interest of his _500l._, he did not want
money. If he had been allowed to want it, the charge of avarice would
lie at Mr., not Mrs., Thrale's door; and his memory was exposed to no
insult beyond the stigma which (as we shall presently see) his
conduct and language necessarily fixed upon it. All his literary
friends did not entertain the same high opinion of him. An
unpublished letter from Dr. Warton to his brother contains the
following passage:
"He (Huggins, the translator of Ariosto) abuses Baretti infernally,
and says that he one day lent Baretti a gold watch, and could never
get it afterwards; that after many excuses Baretti, skulked, and then
got Johnson to write to Mr. Huggins a suppliant letter; that this
letter stopped Huggins awhile, while Baretti got a protection from
the Sardinian ambassador; and that, at last, with great difficulty,
the watch was got from a pawnbroker to whom Baretti had sold it."
This extract is copied from a valuable contribution to the literary
annals of the eighteenth century, for which we are indebted to the
colonial press.[1] It is the diary of an Irish clergyman, containing
strong internal evidence of authenticity, although nothing more is
known of it than that the manuscript was discovered behind an old
press in one of the offices of the Supreme Court of New South Wales.
That such a person saw a good deal of Johnson in 1775, is proved by
Boswell, whose accuracy is frequently confirmed in return. In one
marginal note Mrs. Thrale says: "He was a fine showy talking man.
Johnson liked him of all things in a year or two." In another: "Dr.
Campbell was a very tall handsome man, and, speaking of some other
_High_-bernian, used this expression: 'Indeed now, and upon my honour,
Sir, I am but a Twitter to him.'"[2]
[Footnote 1: Diary of a Visit to England in 1775. By an Irishman (the
Rev. Doctor Thomas Campbell, author of "A Philosophical Survey of the
South of Ireland.") And other Papers by the same hand. With Notes by
Samuel Raymond, M.A., Prothonotary of the Supreme Court of New South
Wales. Sydney. Waugh and Cox. 1854.]
[Footnote 2: He is similarly described in the "Letters," vol. i. p.
329.]
Several of his entries throw light on the Thrale establishment:
"_14th._--This day I called at Mr. Thrale's, where I was received
with all respect by Mr. and Mrs. Thrale. She is a very learned lady,
and joins to the charms of her own sex, the manly understanding of
ours. The immensity of the brewery astonished me."
"_16th._--Dined with Mr. Thrale along with Dr. Johnson, and Baretti.
Baretti is a plain sensible man, who seems to know the world well. He
talked to me of the invitation given him by the College of Dublin,
but said it (100_l._ a year and rooms) was not worth his acceptance;
and if it had been, he said, in point of profit, still he would not
have accepted it, for that now he could not live out of London. He
had returned a few years ago to his own country, but he could not
enjoy it; and he was obliged to return to London, to those connexions
he had been making for near thirty years past. He told me he had
several families with whom, both in town and country, he could go at
any time and spend a month: he is at this time on these terms at Mr.
Thrale's, and he knows how to keep his ground. Talking as we were at
tea of the magnitude of the beer vessels, he said there was one thing
in Mr. Thrale's house still more extraordinary;--meaning his wife.
She gulped the pill very prettily,--so much for Baretti!
"Johnson, you are the very man Lord Chesterfield describes: a
Hottentot indeed, and though your abilities are respectable, you
never can be respected yourself! He has the aspect of an idiot,
without the faintest ray of sense gleaming from any one feature--with
the most awkward garb, and unpowdered grey wig, on one side only of
his head--he is for ever dancing the devil's jig, and sometimes he
makes the most driveling effort to whistle some thought in his absent
paroxysms."
"_25th._--Dined at Mr. Thrale's where there were ten or more
gentlemen, and but one lady besides Mrs. Thrale. The dinner was
excellent: first course, soups at head and foot, removed by fish and
a saddle of mutton; second course, a fowl they call galena at head,
and a capon larger than some of our Irish turkeys, at foot; third
course, four different sorts of ices, pine-apple, grape, raspberry,
and a fourth; in each remove there were I think fourteen dishes. The
two first courses were served in massy plate. I sat beside Baretti,
which was to me the richest part of the entertainment. He and Mr. and
Mrs. Thrale joined in expressing to me Dr. Johnson's concern that he
could not give me the meeting that day, but desired that I should go
and see him."
"_April 1st._--Dined at Mr. Thrale's, whom in proof of the magnitude
of London, I cannot help remarking, no coachman, and this is the
third I have called, could find without inquiry. But of this by the
way. There was Murphy, Boswell, and Baretti: the two last, as I
learned just before I entered, are mortal foes, so much so that
Murphy and Mrs. Thrale agreed that Boswell expressed a desire that
Baretti should be hanged upon that unfortunate affair of his killing,
&c. Upon this hint, I went, and without any sagacity, it was easily
discernible, for upon Baretti's entering Boswell did not rise, and
upon Baretti's descry of Boswell he grinned a perturbed glance.
Politeness however smooths the most hostile brows, and theirs were
smoothed. Johnson was the subject, both before and after dinner, for
it was the boast of all but myself, that under that roof were the
Doctor's fast friends. His _bon-mots_ were retailed in such plenty,
that they, like a surfeit, could not lie upon my memory."
"N.B. The 'Tour to the Western Isles' was written an twenty days, and
the 'Patriot' in three; 'Taxation no Tyranny,' within a week: and not
one of them would have yet seen the light, had it not been for Mrs.
Thrale and Baretti, who stirred him up by laying wagers."
"_April 8th._--Dined with Thrale, where Dr. Johnson was, and Boswell
(and Baretti as usual). The Doctor was not in as good spirits as he
was at Dilly's. He had supped the night before with Lady ----, Miss
Jeffries, one of the maids of honour, Sir Joshua Reynolds, &c., at
Mrs. Abington's. He said Sir C. Thompson, and some others who were
there, spoke like people who had seen good company, and so did Mrs.
Abington herself, who could not have seen good company."
Boswell's note, alluding to the same topic, is:
"On Saturday, April 8, I dined with him at Mr. Thrale's, where we met
the Irish Dr. Campbell. Johnson had supped the night before at Mrs.
Abington's with some fashionable people whom he named; and he seemed
much pleased with having made one in so elegant a circle. Nor did he
omit to pique his _mistress_ a little with jealousy of her
housewifery; for he said, with a smile, 'Mrs. Abington's jelly, my
dear lady, was better than yours.'"
The next year is chiefly memorable for the separation from Baretti,
thus mentioned in "Thraliana":
"Baretti had a comical aversion to Mrs. Macaulay, and his aversions
are numerous and strong. If I had not once written his character in
verse,[1] I would now write it in prose, for few people know him
better: he was--_Dieu me pardonne_, as the French say--my inmate for
very near three years; and though I really liked the man once for his
talents, and at last was weary of him for the use he made of them, I
never altered my sentiments concerning him; for his character is
easily seen, and his soul above disguise, haughty and insolent, and
breathing defiance against all mankind; while his powers of mind
exceed most people's, and his powers of purse are so slight that they
leave him dependent on all. Baretti is for ever in the state of a
stream dammed up: if he could once get loose, he would bear down all
before him.
"Every soul that visited at our house while he was master of it, went
away abhorring it; and Mrs. Montagu, grieved to see my meekness so
imposed upon, had thoughts of writing me on the subject an anonymous
letter, advising me to break with him. Seward, who tried at last to
reconcile us, confessed his wonder that we had lived together so
long. Johnson used to oppose and battle him, but never with his own
consent: the moment he was cool, he would always condemn himself for
exerting his superiority over a man who was his friend, a foreigner,
and poor: yet I have been told by Mrs. Montagu that he attributed his
loss of our family to Johnson: ungrateful and ridiculous! if it had
not been for his mediation, I would not so long have borne trampling
on, as I did for the last two years of our acquaintance.
"Not a servant, not a child, did he leave me any authority over; if I
would attempt to correct or dismiss them, there was instant appeal to
Mr. Baretti, who was sure always to be against me in every dispute.
With Mr. Thrale I was ever cautious of contending, conscious that a
misunderstanding there could never answer, as I have no friend or
relation in the world to protect me from the rough treatment of a
husband, should he chuse to exert his prerogatives; but when I saw
Baretti openly urging Mr. Thrale to cut down some little fruit trees
my mother had planted and I had begged might stand, I confess I did
take an aversion to the creature, and secretly resolved his stay
should not be prolonged by my intreaties whenever his greatness chose
to take huff and be gone. As to my eldest daughter, his behaviour was
most ungenerous; he was perpetually spurring her to independence,
telling her she had more sense and would have a better fortune than
her mother, whose admonitions she ought therefore to despise; that
she ought to write and receive her own letters _now_, and not submit
to an authority I could not keep up if she once had the spirit to
challenge it; that, if I died in a lying-in which happened while he
lived here, he hoped Mr. Thrale would marry Miss Whitbred, who would
be a pretty companion for Hester, and not tyrannical and overbearing
like me. Was I not fortunate to see myself once quit of a man like
this? who thought his dignity was concerned to set me at defiance,
and who was incessantly telling lies to my prejudice in the ears of
my husband and children? When he walked out of the house on the 6th
day of July, 1776, I wrote down what follows in my table book.
"_6 July, 1776._--This day is made remarkable by the departure of Mr.
Baretti, who has, since October, 1773, been our almost constant
inmate, companion, and, I vainly hoped, our friend. On the 11th of
November, 1773, Mr. Thrale let him have _50l._ and at our return from
France _50l._ more, besides his clothes and pocket money: in return
to all this, he instructed our eldest daughter--or thought he
did--and puffed her about the town for a wit, a genius, a linguist,
&c. At the beginning of the year 1776, we purposed visiting Italy
under his conduct, but were prevented by an unforeseen and heavy
calamity: that Baretti, however, might not be disappointed of money
as well as of pleasure, Mr. Thrale presented him with 100 guineas,
which at first calmed his wrath a little, but did not, perhaps, make
amends for his vexation; this I am the more willing to believe, as
Dr. Johnson not being angry too, seemed to grieve him no little,
after all our preparations made.
"Now Johnson's virtue was engaged; and he, I doubt not, made it a
point of conscience not to increase the distresses of a family
already oppressed with affliction. Baretti, however, from this time
grew sullen and captious; he went on as usual notwithstanding, making
Streatham his home, carrying on business there, when he thought he
had any to do, and teaching his pupil at by-times when he chose so to
employ himself; for he always took his choice of hours, and would
often spitefully fix on such as were particularly disagreeable to me,
whom he has now not liked a long while, if ever he did. He professed,
however, a violent attachment to our eldest daughter; said if _she_
had died instead of her poor brother, he should have destroyed
himself, with many as wild expressions of fondness. Within these few
days, when my back was turned, he would often be telling her that he
would go away and stay a month, with other threats of the same
nature; and she, not being of a caressing or obliging disposition,
never, I suppose, soothed his anger or requested his stay.
"Of all this, however, I can know nothing but from _her_, who is very
reserved, and whose kindness I cannot so confide in as to be sure she
would tell me all that passed between them; and her attachment is
probably greater to him than me, whom he has always endeavoured to
lessen as much as possible, both in her eyes and--what was worse--her
father's, by telling him how my parts had been over-praised by
Johnson, and over-rated by the world; that my daughter's skill in
languages, even at the age of fourteen, would vastly exceed mine, and
such other idle stuff; which Mr. Thrale had very little care about,
but which Hetty doubtless thought of great importance. Be this as it
may, no angry words ever passed between him and me, except perhaps
now and then a little spar or so when company was by, in the way of
raillery merely.
"Yesterday, when Sir Joshua and Fitzmaurice dined here, I addressed
myself to him with great particularity of attention, begging his
company for Saturday, as I expected ladies, and said he must come and
flirt with them, &c. My daughter in the meantime kept on telling me
that Mr. Baretti was grown very old and very cross, would not look at
her exercises, but said he would leave this house soon, for it was no
better than Pandæmonium. Accordingly, the next day he packed up his
cloke-bag, which he had not done for three years, and sent it to
town; and while we were wondering what he would say about it at
breakfast, he was walking to London himself, without taking leave of
any one person, except it may be the girl, who owns they had much
talk, in the course of which he expressed great aversion to me and
even to her, who, he said, he once thought well of.
"Now whether she had ever told the man things that I might have said
of him in his absence, by way of provoking him to go, and so rid
herself of his tuition; whether he was puffed up with the last 100
guineas and longed to be spending it _all' Italiano;_ whether he
thought Mr. Thrale would call him back, and he should be better
established here than ever; or whether he really was idiot enough to
be angry at my threatening to whip Susan and Sophy for going out of
bounds, although _he_ had given them leave, for Hetty said that was
the first offence he took huff at, I never now shall know, for he
never expressed himself as an offended man to me, except one day when
he was not shaved at the proper hour forsooth, and then I would not
quarrel with him, because nobody was by, and I knew him be so vile a
lyar that I durst not trust his tongue with a dispute. He is gone,
however, loaded with little presents from me, and with a large share
too of my good opinion, though I most sincerely rejoice in his
departure, and hope we shall never meet more but by chance.
"Since our quarrel I had occasion to talk of him with Tom Davies, who
spoke with horror of his ferocious temper; 'and yet,' says I, 'there
is great sensibility about Baretti: I have seen tears often stand in
his eyes.' 'Indeed,' replies Davies, 'I should like to have seen that
sight vastly, when--even butchers weep.'"
[Footnote 1: In "The Streatham Portraits." (See Vol. II.)]
His intractable character appears from his own account of the
rupture:
"When Madam took it into her head to give herself airs, and treat me
with some coldness and superciliousness, I did not hesitate to set
down at breakfast my dish of tea not half drank, go for my hat and
stick that lay in the corner of the room, turn my back to the house
_insalutato hospite_, and walk away to London without uttering a
syllable, fully resolved never to see her again, as was the case
during no less than four years; nor had she and I ever met again as
friends if she and her husband had not chanced upon me after that
lapse of time at the house of a gentleman near Beckenham, and coaxed
me into a reconciliation, which, as almost all reconciliations prove,
was not very sincere on her side or mine; so that there was a total
end of it on Mr. Thrale's demise, which happened about three years
after."[1]
[Footnote 1: The European Magazine, 1788.]
The monotony of a constant residence at Streatham was varied by trips
to Bath or Brighton; and it was so much a matter of course for
Johnson to make one of the party, that when (1776), not expecting him
so soon back from a journey with Boswell, the Thrale family and
Baretti started for Bath without him, Boswell is disposed to treat
their departure without the lexicographer as a slight: