682. Robert Southey to John May, 7 June 1802 ⁠* 

Kingsdown. Bristol. June 7. 1802.

My dear friend

I received your letter inclosing ten guineas for M^rs James. [1]  the subscription is tolerably succesful. Enough is almost – & certainly will be – raised to purchase for her an annuity equal to the little maintenance afforded her by her son. That the whole business of my letter may be remembered & finished first, my Uncles parcel must come in here. into my hands it cannot now be delivered – but if it be the lease the sooner it comes into them the better – or indeed be it what it may. there is no choice of conveyance. if M^r Burn [2]  will have the goodness to direct it to me at Mr Danvers’s N^o 9. S^t James’s Place. Kingsdown Bristol. it may be trusted to one of the coaches from the White Horse Cellar [3]  or the Gloucester Coffee House. [4] 

I mention Danvers’s as a safer direction than my own, because he is an established resident of some years standing. We are lodged in his neighbourhood – or rather housed – for we have taken a small furnished house by the month, just large enough for our convenience. I took from London one box of historical books, & here I find a valuable store from Lisbon. the whole monastic history of Portugal & its colonies, Cistercian, Franciscan, Dominican & Jesuit. [5]  This cargo also contains two very important works which will speedily come into use, the old Chronicle of the Great Constable Nunō Alvares Pereyra. & that of the King D. Joaō I. by Fernaō Lopez. [6]  both rare books & of high price.

The Monastic History is to me extremely interesting. the detail of a very odd system. & the biography of a very odd breed of mortals, whose cerebrella I think must have been organized in a different way from mine. Anecdotes of folly or fraud, & not unfrequently of both so blended that they cannot be seperated, perpetually stimulate & waken ones attention in these folios. they have something like the interest of a fairy tale – the manners, opinions & feelings they describe are so utterly out of the sphere of English sympathy. their main historical value is mere accident. A good monk illuminates his own Convent only for the honour & glory of the order, but we see what is passing by, by the light. There is a sort of sportsman-pleasure in this startling information. besides it always comes fairly – it is accidental – not wilfull evidence.

Another part of my employment [7]  is to fill up the narrative from the Moorish conquest [8]  down to the appearance of Count Henrique. [9]  In this there occurs some uncommonly interesting & singular tales – of Bernardo del Carpio [10]  – of the Infantes of Lara [11]  – of the great Almanzor [12]  & the great Cid Rūy Diaz. [13]  My materials are very ample – indeed almost compleat. I have enough books in England to employ three years of active industry.

As yet I have received no information from Mr Corry. this does not anyways surprize me. there can be none till Rickman has had the good chance to find him alone & at leisure for conversation. Of the result there is so little doubt that I am making up – or rather have made up my own plans. & after weighing maturely & considerately the relative advantages of the only three dwelling places to which there exists any motive of preference – Norwich Bristol – & the neighbourhood of London – I decidedly prefer the last. because it gives me access to public & private libraries – & places me within reach of the booksellers, with whom I may from time to time engage in xxxxxx works of obscure profit. The neighbourhood of London means your neighbourhood, for the convenience of finding a house, & the comfort of living in it when found. The nearness of many acquaintance is a matter of luxury – but one friend within a half hours walk is among the necessaries of life. it is as essential almost as air & water.

You are in a beautiful country – & will I hope be able to send good accounts of your whole staff. You did not mention in your last the state of M^rs Mays sister. [14]  I trust she is recovering. Edith joins me in remembrance to M^rs May –

yrs affectionately

Robert Southey.