[52] At the instant Mr. Southey was about to set off on his travels, I
observed he had no stick, and lent him a stout holly of my own. In the
next year, on his return to Bristol, "Here" said Mr. S. "Here is the
holly you were kind enough to lend me!"--I have since then looked with
additional respect on my old igneous traveller, and remitted a portion of
his accustomed labour. It was a source of some amusement, when, in
November of 1836, Mr. Southey, in his journey to the West, to my great
gratification, spent a few days with me, and in talking of Spain and
Portugal, I showed him his companion, the Old Holly! Though somewhat bent
with age, the servant (after an interval of forty years) was immediately
recognised by his master, and with an additional interest, as this stick,
he thought, on one occasion, had been the means of saving his purse, if
not his life, from the sight of so efficient an instrument of defence
having intimidated a Spanish robber.
[53] See page 32 [Paragraph starting with "The deepest sorrow often
admits...." Transcriber.].
[54] During the French war, Spanish dollars received the impression of
the King's head, and then passed as the current coin at 4s 6d.
[55] Dr. Hunter, translated St. Pierre.
[56] Dr. Gregory's life was prefixed entire the collection of
Chatterton's works, 8 vols. 8vo. Mr. Southey never fulfilled his
intention of writing a life Shatterton. The able review of this week, in
the Edinburgh was written by Sir Walter Scott.
[57] It was not true, but a vain fancy; causelessly entertained, by, at
least, four other ladies, under the same delusion as Miss. W.
[58] On visiting Mr. Southey, at Christ-Church, he introduced to me this
Mr. Rickman, whom I found sensible enough, and blunt enough, and
seditions enough; that is, simply anti-ministerial. The celebrated Sir G.
Rose, had his seat in the vicinity. Sir George was a sort of King of the
district. He was also Colonel of a regiment of volunteers. Mr. Rickman
told me that the great man had recently made a feast for the officers of
his regiment, about a dozen of them, the substantial yeomen of the
neighbourhood. After the usual bumper had uproariously been offered to
the "King and Constitution; and confusion to all Jacobins," the Colonel,
Sir G. called on the Lieutenant-Colonel, after the glasses were duly
charged, for a lady-toast. "I'll give you," he replied, "Lady Rose." This
being received with all honours, the Major was now applied to for his
lady-toast "I can't mend it," he replied, "I'll give Lady Rose." A
Captain was now called on; said he, "I am sure I can't mend it, Lady
Rose." So that the whole of these military heroes, concurred in drinking
good Lady Rose's health.
One of the officers, it appeared, was a bit of a poet, and had composed a
choice song for this festive occasion, and which was sung in grand
chorus, the Right Honourable Colonel himself, heartily joining. The whole
ditty was supremely ludicrous. I remember only the last verse.
"Sir George Rose is our Commander,
He's as great as Alexander;
He'll never flinch, nor stir back an inch,
He loves fire like a Salamander.