Mr. Day and Edgeworth went to France, and the latter spent nearly
two years at Lyons, where his wife joined him. Here he found
interest and occupation in some engineering works by which the
course of the Rhone was to be diverted and some land gained to
enlarge the city, which lies hemmed in between the Rhone and the
Saone. When the works were nearly completed, an old boatman warned
Edgeworth 'that a tremendous flood might be expected in ten days
from the mountains of Savoy. I represented this to the company, and
proposed to employ more men, and to engage, by increased wages,
those who were already at work, to continue every day till it was
dark, but I could not persuade them to a sudden increase of their
expenditure. . . . At five or six o'clock one morning, I was
awakened by a prodigious noise on the ramparts under my windows. I
sprang out of bed, and saw numbers of people rushing towards the
Rhone. I foreboded the disaster! dressed myself, and hastened to the
river. . . When I reached the Rhone, I beheld a tremendous sight!
All the work of several weeks, carried on daily by nearly a hundred
men, had been swept away. Piles, timber, barrows, tools, and large
parts of expensive machinery were all carried down the torrent, and
thrown in broken pieces upon the banks. The principal part of the
machinery had been erected upon an island opposite the rampart; here
there still remained some valuable timber and engines, which might,
probably, be saved by immediate exertion. The old boatman, whom I
have mentioned before, was at the water-side; I asked him to row me
over to the island, that I might give orders how to preserve what
remained belonging to the company. My old friend, the boatman,
represented to me, with great kindness, the imminent danger to which
I should expose myself. "Sir," he added, "the best swimmer in Lyons,
unless he were one of the Rhone-men, could not save himself if the
boat overset, and you cannot swim at all."
'"Very true," I replied, "but the boat will not overset; and both my
duty and my honour require that I should run every hazard for those
who have put so much trust in me." My old boatman took me over
safely, and left me on the island; but in returning by himself, the
poor fellow's little boat was caught by a wave, and it skimmed to
the bottom like a slate or an oyster-shell that is thrown obliquely
into the water. A general exclamation was uttered from the shore;
but, in a few minutes, the boatman was seen sitting upon a row of
piles in the middle of the river, wringing his long hair with great
composure.
'I have mentioned this boatman repeatedly as an old man, and such
he was to all appearance; his hair was grey, his face wrinkled, his
back bent, and all his limbs and features had the appearance of
those of a man of sixty, yet his real age was but twenty-seven
years. He told me that he was the oldest boatman on the Rhone; that
his younger brothers had been worn out before they were twenty-five
years old.'
The French society at Lyons included many agreeable people; but
Edgeworth singles out from among them, as his special friend, the
Marquis de la Poype, who understood English, and was well acquainted
with English literature. He pressed Edgeworth to pay him a visit at
his Chateau in Dauphiny, and the latter adds: 'I promised to pass
with him some of the Christmas holidays. An English gentleman went
with me. We arrived in the evening at a very antique building,
surrounded by a moat, and with gardens laid out in the style which
was common in England in the beginning of the last century. These
were enclosed by high walls, intersected by canals, and cut into
parterres by sandy walks. We were ushered into a good drawing-room,
the walls of which were furnished with ancient tapestry. When dinner
was served, we crossed a large and lofty hall, that was hung round
with armour, and with the spoils of the chase; we passed into a
moderate-sized eating-room, in which there was no visible fireplace,
but which was sufficiently heated by invisible stoves. The want of
the cheerful light of a fire cast a gloom over our repast, and the
howling of the wind did not contribute to lessen this dismal effect.
But the dinner was good, and the wine, which was produced from the
vineyard close to the house, was excellent. Madame de la Poype, and
two or three of her friends, who were on a visit at her house,
conversed agreeably, and all feeling of winter and seclusion was
forgotten.
'At night, when I was shown into my chamber, the footman asked if I
chose to have my bed warmed. I inquired whether it was well aired;
he assured me, with a tone of integrity, that I had nothing to fear,
for "that it had not been slept in for half a year." The French are
not afraid of damp beds, but they have a great dread of catching
some infectious disease from sleeping in any bed in which a stranger
may have recently lain.
'My bedchamber at this chateau was hung with tapestry, and as the
footman assured me of the safety of my bed, he drew aside a piece of
the tapestry, which discovered a small recess in the wall that held
a grabat, in which my servant was invited to repose. My servant was
an Englishman, whose indignation nothing but want of words to
express it could have concealed; he deplored my unhappy lot; as for
himself, he declared, with a look of horror, that nothing could
induce him to go into such a pigeon-hole. I went to visit the
accommodations of my companion, Mr. Rosenhagen. I found him in a
spacious apartment hung all round with tapestry, so that there was
no appearance of any windows. I was far from being indifferent to
the comfort of a good dry bed; but poor Mr. Rosenhagen, besides
being delicate, was hypochondriac. With one of the most rueful
countenances I ever beheld, he informed me that he must certainly
die of cold. His teeth chattered whilst he pointed to the tapestry
at one end of the room, which waved to and fro with the wind; and,
looking behind it, I found a large, stone casement window without a
single pane of glass, or shutters of any kind. He determined not to
take off his clothes; but I, gaining courage from despair,
undressed, went to bed, and never slept better in my life, or ever
awakened in better health or spirits than at ten o'clock the next
morning.
'After breakfast the Marquis took us to visit the Grotto de la
Baume, which was at the distance of not more than two leagues from
his house. We were most hospitably received at the house of an old
officer, who was Seigneur of the place. His hall was more amply
furnished with implements of the chase and spoils of the field than
any which I have ever seen, or ever heard described. There were nets
of such dimensions, and of such strength, as were quite new to me;
bows, cross-bows, of prodigious power; guns of a length and weight
that could not be wielded by the strength of modern arms; some with
old matchlocks, and with rests to be stuck into the ground, and
others with wheel-locks; besides modern fire-arms of all
descriptions; horns of deer, and tusks of wild boars, were placed in
compartments in such numbers, that every part of the walls was
covered either with arms or trophies.
'The master of the mansion, in bulk, dress, and general appearance,
was suited to the style of life which might be expected from what we
had seen at our entrance. He was above six feet high, strong, and
robust, though upwards of sixty years of age; he wore a leather
jerkin, and instead of having his hair powdered, and tied in a long
queue, according to the fashion of the day, he wore his own short
grey locks; his address was plain, frank, and hearty, but by no
means coarse or vulgar. He was of an ancient family, but of a
moderate fortune.' Here Edgeworth adds a long description of the
grotto and its stalactites. They returned to dine with the old
officer at his castle.
'Our dinner was in its arrangement totally unlike anything I had
seen in France, or anywhere else. It consisted of a monstrous, but
excellent, wild boar ham; this, and a large savoury pie of different
sorts of game, were the principal dishes; which, with some common
vegetables, amply satisfied our hunger. The blunt hospitality of
this rural baron was totally different from that which is to be met
with in remote parts of the country of England. It was more the
open-heartedness of a soldier than the roughness of a squire.'
During the winter of 1772 Edgeworth was busy making plans for
flour-mills to be erected on a piece of land gained from the river.
But his stay in Lyons was cut short as the news reached him in March
1773 that Mrs. Edgeworth, who had returned to England for her
confinement, had died after giving birth to a daughter. He travelled
home with his son through Burgundy and Paris, and on reaching
England arranged to meet Mr. Day at Woodstock. His friend greeted
him with the words,' Have you heard anything of Honora Sneyd ?'
Mr. Edgeworth continues: 'I assured him that I had heard nothing but
what he had told me when he was in France; that she had some disease
in her eyes, and that it was feared she would lose her sight.' I
added that I was resolved to offer her my hand, even if she had
undergone such a dreadful privation.
'"My dear friend," said he, "while virtue and honour forbade you to
think of her, I did everything in my power to separate you; but now
that you are both at liberty, I have used the utmost expedition to
reach you on your arrival in England, that I might be the first to
tell you that Honora is in perfect health and beauty, improved in
person and in mind; and, though surrounded by lovers, still her own
mistress."
'At this moment I enjoyed the invaluable reward of my steady
adherence to the resolution which I had formed on leaving England,
never to keep up the slightest intercourse with her by letter,
message, or inquiry. I enjoyed also the proof my friend gave me of
his generous affection. Mr. Day had now come several hundred miles
for the sole purpose of telling me of the fair prospects before me.
. . .
'A new era in my life was now beginning. ... I went directly to
Lichfield, to Dr. Darwin's. The doctor was absent, but his sister,
an elderly maiden lady, who then kept house for him, received me
kindly.
'"You will excuse me," said the good lady, "for not making tea for
you this evening, as I am engaged to the Miss Sneyds; but perhaps
you will accompany me, as I am sure you will be welcome."
'It was summer--We found the drawing-room at Mr. Sneyd's filled by
all my former acquaintances and friends, who had, without concert
among themselves, assembled as if to witness the meeting of two
persons, whose sentiments could scarcely be known even to the
parties themselves.
'I have been told that the last person whom I addressed or saw, when
I came into the room, was Honora Sneyd. This I do not remember; but
I am perfectly sure that, when I did see her, she appeared to me
most lovely, even more lovely than when we parted. What her
sentiments might be it was impossible to divine.
'My addresses were, after some time, permitted and approved; and,
with the consent of her father, Miss Honora Sneyd and I were married
(1773), by special licence, in the ladies' choir, in the Cathedral
at Lichfield. Immediately after the marriage ceremony we left
Lichfield, and went to Ireland.'
Now followed what was perhaps the happiest period of Mr. Edgeworth's
life, but it was uneventful. The young couple saw little society
while living at Edgeworth Town; and after a three years' residence
in Ireland, they visited England to rub off the rust of isolation in
contact with their intellectual friends. He says: 'We certainly
found a considerable change for the better as to comfort,
convenience, and conversation among our English acquaintance. So
much so, that we were induced to remain in England. . . . My mind
was kept up to the current of speculation and discovery in the world
of science, and continual hints for reflection and invention were
suggested to me. . . . My attention was about this period turned to
clockwork, and I invented several pieces of mechanism for measuring
time. These, with the assistance of a good workman, I executed
successfully. I then (in 1776) finished a clock on a new
construction. Its accuracy was tried at the Observatory at Oxford
. . . and it is now (in 1809) going well at my house in Ireland.'
Edgeworth now enjoyed the pleasure of having an intelligent
companion, and says: 'My wife had an eager desire for knowledge of
all sorts, and, perhaps to please me, became an excellent theoretic
mechanic. Mechanical amusements occupied my mornings, and I
dedicated my evenings to the best books upon various subjects. I
strenuously endeavoured to improve my own understanding, and to
communicate whatever I knew to my wife. Indeed, while we read and
conversed together during the long winter evenings, the clearness of
her judgment assisted me in every pursuit of literature in which I
was engaged; as her understanding had arrived at maturity before she
had acquired any strong prejudices on historical subjects, she
derived uncommon advantage from books.
'We had frequent visitors from town; and as our acquaintance were
people of literature and science, conversation with them exercised
and arranged her thoughts upon whatever subject they were employed.
Nor did we neglect the education of our children: Honora had under
her care, at this time, two children of her own, and three of mine
by my former marriage.'
Edgeworth and his friend Mr. Day were both great admirers of
Rousseau's Emile and of his scheme of bringing up children to be
hardy, fearless, and independent. Edgeworth brought up his eldest
boy after this fashion; but though he succeeded in making him hardy,
and training him in 'all the virtues of a child bred in the hut of a
savage, and all the knowledge of things which could well be acquired
at an early age by a boy bred in civilised society,' yet he adds:
'He was not disposed to obey; his exertions generally arose from his
own will; and, though he was what is commonly called good-tempered
and good-natured, though he generally pleased by his looks,
demeanour, and conversation, he had too little deference for others,
and he showed an invincible dislike to control.'
In passing through Paris, Edgeworth and Mr. Day went to see
Rousseau, who took a good deal of notice of Edgeworth's son; he
judged him to be a boy of abilities, and he thought from his answers
that 'history can be advantageously learned by children, if it be
taught reasonably and not merely by rote.' 'But,' said Rousseau, 'I
remark in your son a propensity to party prejudice, which will be a
great blemish in his character.'
'I asked how he could in so short a time form so decided an opinion.
He told me that, whenever my son saw a handsome horse, or a handsome
carriage in the street, he always exclaimed, "That is an English
horse or an English carriage!" And that, even down to a pair of
shoe-buckles, everything that appeared to be good of its kind was
always pronounced by him to be English. "his sort of party
prejudice," said Rousseau, "if suffered to become a ruling motive in
his mind, will lead to a thousand evils; for not only will his own
country, his own village or club, or even a knot of his private
acquaintance, be the object of his exclusive admiration; but he will
be governed by his companions, whatever they may be, and they will
become the arbiters of destiny."'
It was while at Lyons that Edgeworth realised thaf Rousseau's system
of education was not altogether satisfactory. He says: 'I had begun
his education upon the mistaken principles of Rousseau; and I had
pursued them with as much steadiness, and, so far as they could be
advantageous, with as much success as I could desire. Whatever
regarded the health, strength, and agility of my son had amply
justified the system of my master; but I found myself entangled in
difficulties with regard to my child's mind and temper. He was
generous, brave, good-natured, and what is commonly called
goodtempered; but he was scarcely to be controlled. It was difficult
to urge him to anything that did not suit his fancy, and more
difficult to restrain him from what he wished to follow. In short,
he was self-willed, from a spirit of independence, which had been
inculcated by his early education, and which he cherished the more
from the inexperience of his own powers.
'I must here acknowledge, with deep regret, not only the error of a
theory, which I had adopted at a very early age, when older and
wiser persons than myself had been dazzled by the eloquence of
Rousseau; but I must also reproach myself with not having, after my
arrival in France, paid as much attention to my boy as I had done
in England, or as much as was necessary to prevent the formation of
those habits, which could never afterwards be eradicated.'
Edgeworth, finding that the tutor he had brought from England was
not able to control his son, resolved to send young Richard to
school at Lyons. The Jesuits had lately been dismissed, but the
Peres de L'Oratoire had taken charge of their Seminary, and to them
Edgeworth resolved to intrust his son, having been first assured by
the Superior that he would not attempt to convert the boy, and would
forbid the under-masters to do so. A certain Pere Jerome, however,
desired to make the boy a good Catholic; and the Superior frankly
told Edgeworth the circumstance, saying, 'One day he took your boy
between his knees, and began from the beginning of things to teach
him what he ought to believe. "My little man," said he, "did you
ever hear of God?"
'"Yes."
'"You know that, before He made the world, His Spirit brooded over
the vast deep, which was a great sea without shores, and without
bottom. Then He made this world out of earth."
'"Where did He find the earth ?" asked the boy.
'"At the bottom of the sea," replied Father Jerome.
'"But," said the boy, "you told me just now that the sea had no bottom!"'
The Superior of the College des Oratoires concluded, 'You may, sir,
I think, be secure that your son, when capable of making such a
reply, is in no great danger of becoming a Catholic from the
lectures of such profound teachers as these.'
This son, having no turn for scholarship, ultimately went to sea, a
life which his hardihood and fearlessness of danger peculiarly
fitted him for. Some years afterwards he married an American lady
and settled in South Carolina.
It was, perhaps, a failure in this first experiment in education
which made Edgeworth devote so much care to the training of his
younger children.