I, who had so many occupations and duties at home, soon tired of the idleness and formality of visiting in the country. I made an exception, however, in favour of an occasional visit to Mr. Sotheby, the poet, and his family in Epping Forest, of which, if I mistake not, he was deputy-ranger; at all events, he had a pretty cottage there where he and his family received their friends with kind hospitality. He spent part of the day in his study, and afterwards I have seen him playing cricket with his son and grandson, with as much vivacity as any of them. The freshness of the air was quite reviving to Somerville and me; and our two little girls played in the forest all the day.
We also gladly went for several successive years to visit Sir John Saunders Sebright at Beechwood Park, Hertfordshire. Dr. Wollaston generally travelled with us on these occasions, when we had much conversation on a variety of subjects, scientific or general. He was remarkably acute in his observations on objects as we passed them. "Look at that ash tree; did you ever notice that the branches of the ash tree are curves of double curvature?" There was a comet visible at the time of one of these little journeys. Dr. Wollaston had made a drawing of the orbit and its elements; but, having left it in town, he described the lines so accurately without naming them, that I remarked at once, "That is the curtate or perihelion distance," which pleased him greatly, as it showed how accurate his description was. He was a chess-player, and, when travelling alone, he used to carry a book with diagrams of partially-played games, in which it is required to give checkmate in a fixed number of moves. He would study one of them, and then, shutting the book, play out the game mentally.
Although Sir John was a keen sportsman and ox-hunter in his youth, he was remarkable for his kindness to animals and for the facility with which he tamed them. He kept terriers, and his pointers were first rate, yet he never allowed his keepers to beat a dog, nor did he ever do it himself; he said a dog once cowed was good for nothing ever after. He trained them by tying a string to the collar and giving it a sharp pull when the dog did wrong, and patting him kindly when he did right. In this manner he taught some of his non-sporting dogs to play all sorts of tricks, such as picking out the card chosen by any spectator from a number placed in a circle on the floor, the signal being one momentary glance at the card, &c. &c. Sir John published a pamphlet on the subject, and sent copies of it to the sporting gentlemen and keepers in the county, I fear with little effect; men are so apt to vent their own bad temper on their dogs and horses.
At one of the battues at Holkham, Chantrey killed two woodcocks at one shot. Mr. Hudson Gurney some time after saw a brace of woodcocks carved in marble in Chantrey's studio; Chantrey told him of his shot and the difficulty of finding a suitable inscription, and that it had been tried in Latin and even Greek without success. Mr. Gurney said it should be very simple, such as:—
Driven from the north, where winter starved them,
Chantrey first shot, and then he carved them.
Beechwood was one of the few places in Great Britain in which hawking was kept up. The falcons were brought from Flanders, for, except in the Isle of Skye, they have been extirpated in Great Britain like many other of our fine indigenous birds. Sir John kept fancy pigeons of all breeds. He told me he could alter the colour of their plumage in three years by cross-breeding, but that it required fully six to alter the shape of the bird.
At some house where we were dining in London, I forget with whom, Ugo Foscolo, the poet, was one of the party. He was extremely excitable and irritable, and when some one spoke of a translation of Dante as being perfect, "Impossible," shouted Foscolo, starting up in great excitement, at the same time tossing his cup full of coffee into the air, cup and all, regardless of the china and the ladies' dresses. He died in England, I fear in great poverty. He was a most distinguished classical scholar as well as poet. His remains have been brought to Italy within these few years, and interred in Sante Croce, in Florence.