Journal by Paulus de Wind.
Student: Helen Brouwer | s2017768
Supervisor: Dr Dekker
Date of Completion: 29 June 2015
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Table of Contents
Preface ... 2 Introduction ... 3 1. Dr Paulus de Wind ... 3 2. The Manuscript ... 42.1. The Manuscript and its content ... 4
2.2 Description of the Book ... 6
3. Historical Context... 8
3.1 The Tradition of Travelling to England ... 8
3.2 The Political and Social Developments in the Late Eighteenth Century ... 10
3.4 The Medical and Scientific scenes in Britain and the Dutch Republic ... 12
4. Travelogues ... 16 5. Language ... 18 5.1. Style ... 18 5.1.2 Present Participle ... 19 5.2. Morphology ... 20 5.2.1 Verb Conjugation ... 20 5.2.2 Declension ... 21 6. Editorial Principles ... 24
6.1. The Dutch Text ... 24
6.2. English Translation ... 25
Journal kept during my stay in London from 30 September 1790 to 21 May 1791. ... 26
Journaal gehouden gedurende mijn verblijf te London van den 30 September 1790 tot 21 Mei 1791. ... 68
Bibliography ... 110
Primary Source... 110
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Preface
This is the first edition and translation of the Paulus de Wind’s journal of his journey to London in order to study obstetrics. The journal is preserved in a forty-eight folio book describing de Wind’s journey to London, where he attempted to train as an obstetrician. De Wind’s journal, as an egodocument, is important as a part of the extensive collection of travelogues, memoires, diaries and letters written between 1500 and 1918, which was started by Rudolf Dekker. It can be fit into a rich tradition of Dutch travelling journals, which provide an insight in the travelling traditions and motivations of the Dutch in the sixteenth to nineteenth centuries. If more journals were edited and made available to a wider public, a better image of early modern Dutch travels and travellers could be formed.
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Introduction
1. Dr Paulus de Wind
Just like the three generations before him, Paulus de Wind Samuelszoon studied medicine and obtained the title of M.D. (medicinae doctor). The son of Samuel de Wind, doctor, surgeon and obstetrician, and Cornelia Dobbelaar, Paulus de Wind was born on 16 December 1767 in Middelburg, in the Dutch province of Zeeland. Like his family before him, he attended the University of Leiden1 in the province of
Zuid-Holland, and graduated in 1790 on his thesis entitled On the Gall Diseases2. The degree
of medicinae doctor he received with his graduation allowed him to practise internal medicine, contrary to eighteenth-century surgeons and obstetricians, who were only allowed to practise external medicine. In order to receive the title of doctor of medicine, De Wind had to have had a prior education at a Latin school before attending higher education at a university, which had to be completed with an obligatory title3.
After graduating from university, de Wind journeyed to London in 1790 in order to study obstetrics, and remained in London for at least seven months. He does not appear to have learned that much about obstetrics, due to the difficulties he experienced in contacting the medical world in London. He returned in April or May 1791, and settled as a physician in Middelburg. At the end of 1791, he married his cousin Elisabeth de Wind, daughter of his uncle Gerard de Wind and Elisabeth van Hoorn, who survived him. In 1793, they had a son named Samuel, who also attended the University of Leiden, but to study law instead of medicine.
1 De Wind uses the abbreviation ‘Lugd. Batav’ (short for ‘Lugdunum Batavorum’), meaning Leiden, in an
inscription in his friend Marinus Imans’ Alba Amicorum: a book of friends (Europeana; Leiden University).
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In 1792, de Wind was appointed surgical and anatomical lecturer at the Amsterdam Athenaeum Illustre4, a position he held until his death. Unfortunately, his
death came much sooner than expected in the form of a malignant fever in 1797. He died on 29 July of the same year at the age of twenty-nine, leaving his wife and four-year-old son. His friend Dr Adriaan van Solingen published the shock he had felt over de Wind’s sudden passing in his Speech in Memory of Paulus de Wind5, in 17986.
2. The Manuscript
2.1. The Manuscript and its content
The manuscript of ‘The Journal’, Middelburg, Zeeuwse Bibliotheek, 6223, is kept on loan in the manuscript collection of the Zeeuwse Bibliotheek (Library of Zeeland) in Middelburg, Zeeland. Among many other manuscripts, ‘The Journal’ belongs to the collection of the Koninklijk Zeeuws Genootschap der Wetenschappen (Royal Scientific Society of Zeeland) 7, but is available to the public at the Library of Zeeland and the
Zeeuws Archief (Archives of Zeeland). A significant portion of the Scientific Society’s manuscripts exists of texts and letters by eighteenth- and nineteenth-century members of the Society. Because there is no indication that ‘The Journal’ was ever kept anywhere else, and because de Wind’s son Samuel was a member of the Society8, it is reasonable
to assume that ‘The Journal’ has always been in the possession of the Royal Scientific Society of Zeeland.
The journal Paulus de Wind wrote during his stay in London was kept from 30 September 1790 until 31 April 1791. The title of the manuscript indicates that de Wind
4 Early name for the University in Amsterdam. This meant it was impossible to receive a doctorate degree from the
school (Emmelot par. 7).
5 Original title: Redevoering ter Nagedachtenis van Paulus de Wind (Nagtglas 978). 6 Nagtglas 978-9.
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stayed, or intended to stay, in London until 21 May 1790, but for unknown reasons the entries end on 31 April. De Wind kept the journal in order to document his attempts to contact the London medical world, the progress of his studies and other activities and observations in London. On 30 September, De Wind and his travelling companion Miss Wilcock travelled from Middelburg to Flushing, from where they set sail to London. They arrived in London on 2 October, and De Wind initially took up lodgings with the brother of the ship’s captain, while Miss Wilcock stayed with a Mr Closes. Initially, De Wind actively sought out lecturers in obstetrics and anatomy, only to quit the anatomy lectures by Mr Cline and Dr Saunders a few days later, and sign up for a traineeship in St. Thomas’ and Guy’s Hospitals. Throughout his journal, De Wind paid little in-depth attention to his lectures and traineeship, and instead focussed most of the journal on social and cultural engagements, such as sightseeing and theatre visits. In his own words, De Wind struggled with the language his first day9, but soon visited
theatres daily, as well as the discussions at the London learned societies. His attendance at these societies and his assistance in three childbirths are the only indications of the continuation of his studies. Unfortunately, it is unknown whether or not De Wind felt he had succeeded in his training in London because the journal ends abruptly on 21 April. Because the text offers a personal view on eighteenth-century London, instead of a political one, its value lies in the perspective it offers. Instead of focussing on the bigger political and international issues at hand, De Wind showed everyday London through the eyes of a Dutch visitor, without political interference. This same Dutch visitor’s eyes, however, indicate how different the Dutch Republic and Britain were, both culturally and socially.
6 2.2 Description of the Book
The book that contains the journal is bound in a cardboard cover with leather corners and a leather back. The binding is probably newer than the journal itself, judging by its good condition and the text ‘Journaal * (London 1790-1791) * P. De Wind *’ printed in gold on the spine of the book. The book measures 21 cm x 17 cm, making it approximately quarto-sized. The leaves of the book are divided into four quires (I15,
II16, III12 and IV15), including the pastedowns. Evidently, the first and last quires are
not complete because they both miss one folio of their respective outer bifolium: quire I misses a folio before the pastedown and quire IV misses a folio after the pastedown. The loss of these leaves might have been caused by the (re)binding of the journal in its cardboard cover. All leaves in the quires are the same size, and are undamaged except for some wrinkling due to moisture.
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contain the respective addresses of Dr Simmons and Mr Farquhar, and should be added in line 19 on f10r, again indicated by <#>. The lines on f24v and f36r are both accounts of full days: f24v contains a short account of 22 December that, chronologically, should go between f25r and f27r (f26 does not exist), and f36v contains an account of 28 February that follows the one of 24 February on f36r, and precedes the account of 2 March on f37r.
The leaves of the book are a thick, seemingly good quality paper with clear laid and chain lines and two types of watermarks. One of these watermarks is a circle containing a seated figure holding a sceptre or spear in one hand and flowers in the other, and with a shield emblazoned with the British flag at her side. This motif is known as a Britannia, based on the Dutch Pro Patria10 motif. During the eighteenth
century, this motif became a very popular watermark among continental paper makers for paper bound for the English market, and among British paper makers. Unfortunately, due to the popularity of this motif, it is difficult to ascertain where exactly this paper originated. Churchill’s Watermarks in Paper contains a number of these Britannia motifs, including some that are very similar to the watermark in ‘The Journal’; however, two of these are ascribed to James Whatman, one to C.A. Wessanen, and three have no known source11. Additionally, the Gravell Watermark Archive
ascribes one Britannia watermark to a Hugh Bennet, another to Christopher Patch, and the remainder of Britannia motifs are again without a known source12. The
countermark13 in ‘The Journal’ further complicates the identification of the paper
maker since it is not, unfortunately, an indication of their identity, but the initials ‘GR’ under a crown. During the seventeenth century, upon William of Orange’s accession to
10 For more information, see ‘The Pro Patria Watermark’. 11 Churchill 75, 76.
12 Gravell Watermark Archive ARMS
13 A countermark is “a watermark often embodying the papermaker’s initials which is placed in the second half of
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the British throne, Dutch paper makers started countermarking paper with the royal initials ‘GR’ (Gulielmus Rex)14, which continued during the eighteenth century, when
it could simply be taken to mean ‘Georgius Rex’15. Although it is very hard, if not
impossible, to determine where the paper used for de Wind’s journal originated, its clear ties to the English market pose the question why de Wind used paper made in, or meant for, England.
3. Historical Context
3.1 The Tradition of Travelling to England
As the Dutch are a nation of travellers, it comes as no surprise that Dutch travel journals are not rare. Not only did the Dutch travel great distances for trade, but travels for other reasons were very common as well: for instance, diplomats, scholars, soldiers, sailors and artists travelled frequently16. In a study by R.M. Dekker, entitled ‘Dutch
Travel Journals from the Sixteenth to the Early Nineteenth Centuries’17, a collection of
490 personal travel journals was compiled from the period of 1500-1814. In view of the fact that documents written in an official capacity, letters and journals shorter than ten pages were left out of the collection, it is clear that travelling, and writing about it, was common practice in De Wind’s time. Over the centuries destinations varied. In the sixteenth, seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries, England was not very popular as a travelling destination, while France was the most favoured destination up to 1750, when it traded places with Germany. Towards the late eighteenth century, England became more popular as a destination: so much so, that over the whole period of 1500-1814, England was the sixth most visited country in all 490 journals, after Germany,
14 Churchill 47.
15 Reiman, Barker-Benfield and Tokoo 95. 16 Dekker 1.
17 Original title: ‘Van “grand tour” tot treur- en sukkelreis’, Nederlandse reisverslagen van de 16e tot begin 19e
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Belgium, France, Kleve and Italy18. Unfortunately, Dekker does not elaborate on any
causes for England’s rise in popularity, but they might relate to the trading rivalry between the Dutch Republic and Britain, which lead to the first three Anglo-Dutch Wars in 1652, 1665 and 1672. Additional strain was put on the relationship when the Dutch Republic lent financial support to America during the American Revolutionary War of 1775, leading to the Fourth Anglo-Dutch War in 1780. These wars drained the Republic, which, in addition to the economic decline that had already set in at the end of the seventeenth century, caused Amsterdam to lose its global trading position. As Dutch economy dwindled, London became the new centre of trade, and the city thus became an important business destination for Dutch merchants and businessmen. London, as the destination of De Wind’s journey, therefore, is not unusual in itself, although the combination of the destination and goal of De Wind’s journey is somewhat less usual.
De Wind’s practice of both studying to complete his education as an obstetrician and exploring London culture and landmarks fit certain elements of the so-called grand tour tradition. This type of journey is now considered to have been mostly a British tradition, but was in fact equally popular in the Dutch Republic and other
European countries19. When embarking on a grand tour, sons of prominent families
would usually travel to Paris, Venice, Florence and Rome as a completion of their classical education. The acquisition of culture and worldly knowledge on such journeys
was deemed to be as important as their education20. Although other destinations, such
as Germany, the Dutch Republic, Switzerland and Britain, were also visited, Paris and Rome were compulsory destinations during journeys focussed on a classical or artistic
18 Dekker 9-10.
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education21. The problem, therefore, in comparing De Wind’s journey to a grand tour
is the fact that De Wind was neither finishing a classical education, nor travelling on to Paris or Rome. Moreover, he does not travel with a tutor or guardian, as was customary in the grand tour tradition. It appears that De Wind took some elements from the grand tour—spending a few months abroad to finish his education and acquiring a more worldly cultural knowledge—and, instead, applied them to his medical education.
3.2 The Political and Social Developments in the Late Eighteenth Century
Although he lived in a time of great political turmoil and war, De Wind appears to be hardly affected by it all when he wrote his journal. In 1790, the year in which De Wind travelled from Middelburg to London, the effects of the French Revolution began to spread outside of France, causing unrest in Europe. However, even before the Napoleonic Wars broke out, the Dutch Republic that De Wind left behind on his trip to London was on the decline: after its power and wealth in the seventeenth century, continuous warfare and unrest during the eighteenth century rendered the Republic almost bankrupt. An enormous blow to what remained of the Dutch economy was the Fourth Anglo-Dutch War in the 1780s, which almost completely ruined Dutch trade because many of the Dutch trading ships were confiscated by England. After this war, the King of Prussia marched against the Republic in 1787 after the Dutch Patriots had insulted his sister, William V’s wife Wilhelmina Hohenzollern, Princess of Prussia. This restored the balance in favour of those who supported the house of Orange, although it meant that the Dutch Republic lost all capacity to govern itself, and was completely at the mercy of England and Prussia. In 1791, Prussia’s hold over the Dutch Republic was reinforced by the marriage of the Prince of Orange, the future King William I of
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the United Kingdom of the Netherlands, and yet another Wilhelmina of Prussian descent (‘Willem I, Koning’ par. 1). For all the turmoil and wars, however, De Wind appears remarkably unaffected by these significant political changes in his home country, and unbiased toward Britain. His open attitude toward Britain and interest in the British Royal Family indicate that De Wind was probably not a Dutch Patriot, but, if politically inclined at all, more of an Orangist. Probably because of the close family
ties between the stadholders and the British monarchs22 that had existed since the late
seventeenth century, the House of Orange and its adherents were very much
pro-British23.
In addition to De Wind’s possible political affiliations, the years following the Anglo-Dutch War, the Prussian invasion and the American Revolution, but preceding the Napoleonic Wars were a reasonably calm and quiet period for the Dutch Republic and England. The civil unrest in the Republic that marked the eighteenth century continued, but for the time being no other wars were fought, and the relationship with Britain was stable again. This could be another reason why De Wind paid little heed to political situations, and, instead, focussed in his journal on his studies and London culture.
Although not much affected by the unrest in the Republic, De Wind was struck by the wealth and size of London, it being something he was not used to. The British economy, despite the numerous wars Britain waged in the eighteenth century, flourished in the eighteenth century because of the Industrial Revolution and the continued expansion of the Empire. Scientific breakthroughs and technological
22The son of William II of Orange and Princess Mary, the daughter of King Charles I, William III of Orange
married his cousin Mary, daughter of the future King James VII and II, in 1677, and became King William III and II in 1689 (‘William II and III’ par. 1-4). In 1734, William III’s successor as stadholder William IV proceeded to marry King George II’s daughter Anne (‘Willem IV, Prins’ par. 3), establishing the family ties between the House of Orange and the Hanoverian rule. His son William V then married Wilhelmina of Prussia (‘Willem V, Prins’ par. 3), second cousin of King George III.
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progress officially started the Industrial Revolution in the second half of the eighteenth
century, making Britain the “first industrial nation”24. Directly related to Britain’s
increasing economy was its population: because of dropping death rates, lower marital ages and migration, Britain’s population doubled from 7.1 million to 14.2 million in the
1780s25. The new, industrialised cities offered more jobs and opportunities, because of
which more people migrated to the cities, expanding the urbanised population. Additionally, the Industrial Revolution increased the availability of food, so that people in Britain ate healthier than they had before, and because of higher individual wages and the abandonment of the old system of apprenticeships—in which apprentices were not allowed to get married—people could afford a family sooner, increasing the
“marital fertility”, which led to bigger families26. In this time of rapid population
growth, London was the largest city of the western world in the late eighteenth and
early nineteenth centuries with close to a million inhabitants27. For De Wind, coming
from Middelburg, a city of approximately 30.000 inhabitants, visiting London would have been an incredible experience, unimaginable for anyone who had not gone
through the same experience28.
3.4 The Medical and Scientific scenes in Britain and the Dutch Republic
The basic principles of obstetrics in the Dutch Republic and Britain were very similar: in the eighteenth century, midwives faced increasing competition from male
obstetricians, who were allowed to handle more complicated births29. Since Peter
Chamberlen had invented the obstetric forceps in the late sixteenth or early
24 Morgan par. 24-26. 25 Morgan par. 23. 26 Morgan par. 23.
27 ‘A Population History of London’ par. 9. 28 De Wind 14.
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seventeenth century30, female midwives were only allowed to assist in normal, ‘easy’
deliveries, and male obstetricians or physicians, who were trained at university, had to be called in for more complicated births. In 1752-64, the famous obstetrician William Smellie wrote his Treatise on the Theory and Practice of Midwifery, which “contained the first systematic discussion on the safe use of obstetrical forceps”. Because of
Smellie’s discussion, the obstetrical forceps helped save countless of lives31, and
obstetrics was established as a medical discipline. Despite the improvements made in obstetrics and living conditions, infant and mother death rates were still high in the eighteenth century. Caesarean sections had been carried out before the eighteenth century, but in most cases they were lethal for the mother; the first successful caesarean
section in Britain was performed by Mary Donally in 1738 in Ireland32 (the first
caesarean section in the Republic was presumably not performed until 1886 by
Constant Maassen33).
Evidently, the conventions concerning the practise of obstetrics hardly differed in the Republic and Britain, and it is unlikely that they were the reason De Wind travelled to London. Obstetrics and general medical training in eighteenth-century Britain, however, were markedly different from that in the Dutch Republic. Midwifery
had always been an orally transmitted education34, until schools for midwifery were
founded in London in 172535, in Groningen in the seventeenth century and in
Amsterdam in 186136. In England, unlike Scotland and the continent, male midwives
were a special case: whereas male midwives on the continent and in Scotland would
generally need a “standard university medical training”37, some male midwives in
30 Drife 312. 31 Rogers 42. 32 Drife 311. 33Van Eijck par. 1. 34 Houtzager 29. 35 Drife 312.
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England were trained in an apprentice-based system, as midwives had been for centuries. The same applied for general medical training in London: unlike the universities on the Continent, or in Edinburgh, Cambridge and Oxford, nonuniversity medical schools began emerging in London in the eighteenth century. These nonuniversity training schools were markedly different from universities because
instead of education based solely on the written and spoken word38, these schools
offered private lectures and a more hands-on approach by offering opportunities for
“walking the wards” in the London hospitals39. In this way, the students were prepared
for “bedside practice” when they graduated, instead of only possessing a theoretical
knowledge from ancient medical texts or textbooks40. Although the practices of
obstetrics are unlikely to have been the reason for De Wind’s journey, the manner of training in London might well have been one. De Wind’s own descriptions indicate that this resembles the type of education he enjoyed in London: initially, he follows specific lectures by Drs Lowder, Saunders and Fordyce, and Mr Cline, before signing up for a traineeship in St. Thomas’ and Guy’s Hospitals, and assisting in the deliveries of three women.
Another prominent aspect of De Wind’s education and scholarly activities in London concerns his interest in, and memberships of learned societies. In addition to the lectures he followed and the traineeship in St. Thomas’ and Guy’s Hospitals, De Wind joined the Physical Society of Guy’s Hospital, the Royal Society of London for the Improving Natural Knowledge, the Medical Society of London and the Lyceum
Medicum Londinense. The journal is vague on the actual goings on during the meetings
of these societies, but since De Wind attended them all frequently, he probably attributed a certain value to them. For De Wind, the London medical societies would
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have been a welcome change from the learned societies in the Republic. Before and during the Enlightenment period, scientific societies started to emerge throughout Europe. With the scientific developments the Industrial Revolution brought, and a lack of public education, the non-scholarly population slowly familiarised with the concepts and importance of science. In Britain, ‘the Royal Society for Improving Natural Knowledge’, founded in 1660, was the first learned society, which assembled regularly to witness experiments and discuss various fields of science. Joseph Banks, the president of the Royal Society from 1778 until 1820, maintained a mixture of members, consisting of serious scientists and “wealthy amateurs” who were hoping to become
patrons of the Society41. All these societies, no matter how broad or specific, had the
same general goal: the members discussed developments and theories in their respective fields, and thus furthering, or at least stimulating, scientific developments. In the course of the eighteenth century, several more societies were founded (no less than twelve in London in the second half of the eighteenth century), only six of which
survived by 180042, including the societies De Wind joined: the Physical Society of
Guy’s Hospital, the Medical Society of London, the Royal Society and the Lyceum
Medicum Londinense. All these learned societies, excepting the Royal Society, were
specifically focussed on medical advancements, instead of the whole myriad of physical education, and would, therefore, have been a beneficial environment for De Wind’s
studies43.
Whereas such societies also existed in the Dutch Republic, there significance was different from their counterparts in Britain, and they would probably not have been as conducive to furthering De Wind’s studies. The first scientific society in the
41 ‘History’. The Royal Society par. 7.
42 ‘History’. The Medical Society of London par. 2.
43‘Guy’s Hospital Physical Society Collection’; ‘History’ par. 1&3; ‘History; ‘Minute Books of the Lyceum Medicum
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Dutch Republic was the Hollandsche Maatschappij der Wetenschappen (Scientific Society of Holland) in Haarlem, founded in 1752. The Dutch societies, however, were probably not as conducive to science as those in Britain were. Whereas in Britain, and other European countries, scientific developments were the responsibility of individual scholars, the Dutch universities were solely responsible for all scientific developments
in the Republic44. As a result, most Dutch scientific societies acted more like very
expensive night schools for wealthy citizens interested in sciences to socialise and learn
something45, instead of scientists discussing scientific developments or theories with
equals. For De Wind, who had already completed a full medical study, these amateurish ‘night schools’ would have contributed nothing to his medical knowledge, whereas the London societies would encourage and enable him to discuss new ideas and developments. Therefore, the different form of learned societies might have been as much a reason for De Wind to travel to London as was the different style of medical training.
4. Travelogues
Travelogues like De Wind’s journal belong to the category of ego documents, together with autobiographies, memoirs, diaries and letters46. The term ‘ego document’, coined
by historian Jacques Presses in 1955, means any text in which the author is constantly present as both the writing and descriptive subject47. Dutch travelogues were very
common throughout sixteenth through eighteenth centuries because the Dutch have a history as travellers and overseas merchants. For a modern audience, travel journals can serve to illustrate the differences in culture and history between the Netherlands
44 Levelt 3.
45 ‘Eeuw van de Genootschappen’ 5.
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and the countries visited48, as well as the author’s, and his contemporaries’, perspective
on the differences. For a more contemporary audience, however, the significance of the travel journals was in its appeal to those who were not bound to the sea by occupation, and were thus not in a position to travel themselves. For those who could not travel, the travel journal written by their friends and family allowed them to join in the experience of travelling49. The journals also served as information for aspiring
travellers: reading other people’s travel journals prepared them for their own journey, so they knew what to expect. Dutch travel journals boomed in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries because the population was no longer satisfied with the available printed travel literature. As R.M. Dekker points out, this led to a vicious circle in which every new generation was unhappy with the travel literature of the previous one50.
Not surprisingly, most people who could afford travelling belonged to the elite: “nobles and regents”. In fact, the largest, group were the university graduates, teachers, doctors, etc. In all the cases found by Dekker, however, no actual authors belonged to the last and lowest group, which is not surprising because travels for study or pleasure were expensive. Some, however, belonged to the middle class who travelled mostly for economic reasons: looking “for work elsewhere or to enlist for service as soldier or sailor in colonial territories”51. What distinguishes travel journal from other ego
documents (diaries, autobiographies, etc.), is their set pattern of their contents. Most journals inform their readers about their routes travelled, “means of transportation, inns, objects and places of interest and expenses incurred”, and inform their readers of their travelling companions at the start of the journal
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After having established the general tradition of Dutch travelling journals, it is important to fit De Wind’s journal into it. On most accounts, De Wind’s journal is not remarkable in its genre as a travelogue. De Wind as an author has the same background that the major part of travelogue authors have: namely a doctor. De Wind’s audience, however, is difficult to determine because he does not address any specific reader(s) in his journal. He does address an anonymous reader once52, indicating that he either had
no specific audience in mind, or that he intended for his journal to be published and thus accessible to a wide, varied audience. The fact that De Wind did not fill his journal with every detail of his medical training, but discussed more of London itself, might suggest that, whether or not De Wind intended it, his journal would have attracted a wide audience. Content-wise De Wind’s journal follows the pattern Dekker proposes: at the start of the journal, he introduces his companion Miss Wilcock, and he is very meticulous in describing his means of transportation and resting stops for every outing he takes. All in all, De Wind’s journal is a very good example of the eighteenth-century travelogues.
5. Language
5.1. Style
The style of De Wind’s journal is unremarkable for an eighteenth-century text. Before the nineteenth century, Dutch had no official grammar or spelling books for spoken or written language, although some grammar rules based on Latin and Hooft’s and Vondel’s writing were distributed in schools53. As is evident in De Wind’s journal,
written Dutch in the seventeenth and eighteenth century was dense and artificial with long, complex sentences54. An example in De Wind’s journal is “[d]ezen dag, zo als ook
52 De Wind 42.
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den voorigen was ik een weinig geindisponeerd door verkoudheid en een ligte Diarihaea, welke ik aan t rivierwater toeschreef, dewyl geen ander water byna in London gebruykt word, wordende het zelve door verscheide konstige waterwerken, uyt de rivier na alle deelen van de stad gevoerd, ten welken einde de geheele stad onder de grond met houten pypen is gevuld, welke het water overal heen voeren, zo wel voor dagelyks gebruyk als voor brand blussching, wordende in t laatste geval niet anders gedaan dan by middel van een leeren buys een communicatie tusschen de perspomp, en een deezer pypen gemaakt”55. This sentence, as most of De Wind’ sentences, shows
the way in which the clauses are piled up (often by way of a present participle) to make long, complex sentences that modern readers would probably find difficult to read. An eighteenth-century audience would probably have struggled with these sentences as well since this style of Dutch was actually very unlike the spoken language of the time, which was much less artificial and subject to style56.
5.1.2 Present Participle
As mentioned before, a very common feature of De Wind’s text is the frequent use of the present participle (hebbende p. 2, 6, etc.; komende p. 3, 8, etc; staande p. 3, 34, 36; etc.). Although the present participle can be used as both a verb and an adjective, De Wind mostly uses it as a verb, except for terugkomende (p. 9), berustende (p. 42) and opkomende (p. 21), which are adjectives. In modern Dutch, the opposite is true: the present participle is used as an adjective more than a verb. In most cases, De Wind uses the present participle in a non-finite clause that could, and would now, be substituted with a finite clause starting with terwijl (‘while’ or ‘as’).
55 De Wind 16.
20 5.2. Morphology
5.2.1 Verb Conjugation
De Wind’s verb conjugation differs on three different levels: weak verb conjugation, change of conjugation class and conjugation endings. The difference between modern and De Wind’s weak verb conjugation expresses itself in the plural form of the simple past. In the eighteenth century, several grammarians dictated that the difference between the simple past plural and simple present plural in several weak verbs should be indicated by an extra inserted <e> in the simple past. This rule applied to those weak verbs of which the stem of the verb ends in <t> or <d>57. Thus, for the simple past of
the words verbranden, branden and postvatten, De Wind uses the eighteenth-century versions verbrandeden (p. 37), brandeden (p. 37) and postvatteden (p. 36), instead of the modern verbrandden, brandden and postvatten. As is indicated in the modern versions of De Wind’s simple past verbs, the final <t> or <d> of the verb stem doubles in the plural form of the simple past, as it does in the modern version of the plural form of the simple present. Although used only sparsely in the text, De Wind’s consistency indicates that it had become common practice in the late eighteenth century, which is further supported by the fact that this rule was included in the first official Dutch spelling, the Spelling Siegenbeek58 in 1804.
In terms of conjugation classes (strong and weak), almost all of De Wind’s verbs belong to the same class as in modern Dutch. However, in one instance De Wind uses a weak form of hijsen instead of the modern, strong form. In modern Dutch, the past tense of hijsen is hesen, and the past participle is gehesen. In De Wind’s eighteenth-century journal, however, he uses the weak form of gehijst (p. 2). Early Dutch verbs
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often switched around between strong and weak59, but in the eighteenth century many
verbs seem to have belonged the same class as they do now60.
Another unusual aspect of De Wind’s language is that he occasionally used endings for the past tense of the first and third person singular of weak verbs that were old-fashioned even in the late eighteenth century. In the seventeenth century, the ending –den for the past tense of the first and third person singular was still in use next to –de, but in the eighteenth century -den had almost completely disappeared from written Dutch61. De Wind, however, used the forms hoorden (p. 11) and passeerden (p.
29) for the first person singular, instead of the modern hoorde and passeerde. Although De Wind’s use of –den in the first and third person singular is old-fashioned and unusual, the sparse use of it at least indicates a growing tendency to use the modern –de ending.
5.2.2 Declension
Next to verb conjugation, nominal declension is an important part of the morphological differences between De Wind’s text and modern Dutch. This mainly concerns endings for cases and grammatical gender in nouns, adjectives and determiners. In eighteenth-century Dutch, there was still a distinction between cases and gender expressed by the endings and by the determiners preceding masculine and feminine nouns. The most frequent examples are genitive masculine des and plural der for van de (des Konings Stallen p. 13, des gebouws p. 17, der Koningen van Engeland p. 42, propositie der Heeren p. 16), although feminine nouns were sometimes inflected as masculine nouns62, and were thus attached to des instead of
59 ‘Hebben we binnenkort afscheidgeneemd?’ par. 1. 60 Van den Toorn, Pijnenburg, et al. 404.
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der. Additionally, De Wind uses the accusative den (den staartriem p. 13, den Koning p. 23) and dative (den volgenden Woensdag p. 35, den hals p. 36) den regularly. Additionally, together with the dative den for adverbials, De Wind also uses dien (dien dag p. 28, dien middag p. 39).
The indefinite article een was also subject to declension in the eighteenth century, receiving an –en or –e ending. Van den Toorn, Pijnenburg, et al. indicate that the short, simple form een was already very common in the eighteenth century, which is further proven by the fact that De Wind uses een more than any other inflection form of the indefinite article. Apart from een, De Wind uses both eene and eenen interchangeably, without discriminating between male and female nouns (eene gerenommeerde Actrice p. 13, eene Heer Nowell p. 33, eenen Heer Backus p. 43, een brand p. 7 & 10, eenen brand p. 12).
Besides the use of cases in the inflection of nouns of different grammatical genders, it seems that some nouns were of a different grammatical gender than they are now. Throughout time, words have changed grammatical gender, and De Wind’s journal shows that some nouns were of a different gender in the eighteenth century than they are now. De Wind’s written Dutch is in many ways very similar to modern Dutch, and there are only few nouns that do not share their modern grammatical gender. Four out of seven of these words are masculine or feminine in modern Dutch, but neuter in De Wind’s text (het tragique p. 25, het Englschen Theatry p. 25, het Automate p. 34 & het Telescoop p. 44). The three remaining words (den eaten p. 8, 20, 38 & 41, den huyze p. 8 & den jare p. 13) are neuter in modern Dutch, but masculine/feminine in De Wind’s text.
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cases used in eighteenth-century Dutch. The form wien is used in the masculine dative and accusative and plural dative (aan wien p. 9, met wien p. 2, 8, etc.), and wiens is used in the masculine genitive63 (wiens familie p. 2, wiens standbeeld p. 15), as is the
demonstrative pronoun diens (diens dood p. 19). However old-fashioned, wiens and diens are still in use in modern Dutch, unlike the relative pronouns hetwelk (het welk voor scheepskost p.3, het welk gedurende de vasten p. 43) and welks (in welks midden p. 36, welks inwendige fraayheid p. 45 & op welks top p. 45)and the demonstrative pronouns dezelve (van dezelve p. 13, na dezelve p. 20) and hetzelve (achter hetzelve p. 25, van hetzelve p. 45). The latter were also used as personal or possessive pronouns64
(deszelfs standbeeld p. 15, deszelfs dochter p. 30) in eighteenth-century Dutch.
Finally, De Wind’s declensions in adjectives are remarkable compared to modern Dutch. In the eighteenth century, there were different grammarians who dictated different declensions of adjectives: -en ending for masculine and neuter physical adjectives, and –e for feminine and plural physical, and later non-physical, adjectives, or -en for all grammatical genders. De Wind’s distinction between adjectives ending in –e and those ending in –en, however, does not simply follow one or the other (den tusschenbeiden liggende plaatsen p. 5, een steene rand p. 45, den volgenden […]dag p. 6, 34, 36, etc., den volgende […] dag/week p. 19, 22, 29, etc.). De Wind’s seemingly random attribution of –en and –e can be taken as an indication that the ‘rules’ for this were just as unclear in the eighteenth century.
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6. Editorial Principles
6.1. The Dutch Text
The language in Paulus de Winds journal was not subjected to heavy editing, in order to retain the eighteenth-century character of the work. There was no official spelling in the Netherlands until the early nineteenth century (180465), and this text may function
as a good example of eighteenth-century Dutch spelling. Therefore, I refrained from adapting the spelling to make it more consistent, with the exception of a few cases where retention of the spelling might impair reading. Therefore, the use of <y> to signify both <i> and <ij> was adapted and modernised. In the text, <y> was used in words such as reyscompagnon (p. 62), signifying <i>, and vriendelyk (p. 65, 79, 91 & 97), signifying <ij>, and I felt that one symbol signifying two different sounds might impair reading. Additionally, although much less frequent in the text, I made a distinction between <v> and <f>. Thus, instead of leaving provesioneel (p. 67) as it is, I substituted the <v> for an <f>, and instead of leaving ontfingen (p. 65), ontfong (p. 65, 68 & 94), ontfangen (p. 69 & 93) and ontfing (p. 69), I substituted the <f> for a <v>. again. In order to preserve the eighteenth-century nature and feel of the text, I did not edit out any further spelling inconsistencies. I did edit out any superscript De Wind had used in his text (Dr, Mr), and used the modern Dutch abbreviations instead.
In terms of sentence structure, I added punctuation in order to reduce the length of the sentences. I did not change the word order, or add words to make the sentences flow better, but simply added commas, semi-colons, colons and full stops where they were necessary and would make sense in the existing word order and writing style.
In the original, Dutch text glosses and explanatory notes were added for concepts foreign to a modern Dutch audience. The glosses in the text explain
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fashioned and obsolete words that a modern Dutch audience is unlikely to be familiar with, and give an English translation of the original words. The only explanatory notes in the Dutch text explain strange spellings, unexplained customs and interlinear street names that were added later, or text inserted later during the editing. Anything explained in the English translation is not explained in the Dutch original as well.
6.2. English Translation
In the English translation, I tried to remain as close to the original text as possible, without affecting the quality of English. However, when certain Dutch idioms could not be translated into an accepted English idiom, I diverged from the original structure to make sure the English would still be good. In terms of names and places written in English by De Wind in the original text, I did standardise spelling in the translation.
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Journal kept during my stay in London from 30
September 1790 to 21 May 1791.
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1790. 30 September. Intending to spend some time in London after completing my studies, in order to study obstetrics and visit a few hospitals, I departed Thursday 30 September 1790 at ten o’clock in the morning. Accompanying me on my travels is Miss Wilcock, daughter of the English minister Wilcock. With her and her family I left by stagecoach for Flushing, where we stayed a little while. At noon, we boarded the brig Endeavour with Captain Thomas McNeil. The vessel had left Middelburg the previous night, and was now anchored in the harbour of Flushing. Our ship was 68 foot long, and was manned by the Captain, three men and a boy. In addition, there were three more passengers, from Württemberg, in the forecastle.
It was almost half past one before the ship was hoisted, the anchor raised and the sails set. Hereupon we set out at a reasonable speed, by then employing full sail: spanker, topsail and two royal sails at the stern; a lower topsail and royal sail on the foremast; and two foresails. Meanwhile, at around two o’clock we had had lunch, which was fairly good for ship’s grub. By three o’clock, we were at the height of Westkapelle66, which we saw from afar because our course
took us along the Flemish coast. By five o’clock, we were at Sluysche gat67 and
saw Sluis68 and Bruges69; by six o’clock, we were at Blankenberge70; and by
seven o’clock we saw the lighthouse of Oostende71.
Although the sea was fairly calm, the movements of the ship still had such an effect on me that, after having been sick, I went to bed at ten o’clock without supper. My travelling companion had done this already, hours ago.
66 A coastal town on the most western tip of Walcheren in the Dutch province of Zeeland (‘Westkapelle’).
67 A Tidal channel that existed until around 1800 between Sluis and Cadzand (then an Island) on the coast of
Flanders.
68 A Dutch town in the west of Flanders.
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Oct. 1. Friday 1 October. Coming up on deck at seven o’clock in the morning, I found myself looking at Margate and the coast of North Foreland. I was greatly struck by the view of the English coast because I had never seen such high lands and white chalk cliffs. From afar, Margate looks very picturesque, especially the windmill and theatre72 which, standing on a hill, can be seen from sea. By nine
o’clock, we approached Margate and had a good view of the town. By eleven o’clock, we had a very picturesque view of a church with two towers lying in pleasant meadows, and passed many ships. Although we were already on the Thames, we could not see land on the other side of the river. Around eleven o’clock, we started to see land on the north side, and by two o’clock we were at the Isle of Sheppey. Next, we passed the river Medway, and at four o’clock we were at Sheerness, where many ships had docked. By six o’clock, Gravesend was on our left side and Tilbury Fort73 on our right. Because the river to London is
supposed to start here, we received various visitors on board from other ships. From one of them two people came on board, of whom one seemed to be of a higher status than the other, and who sailed with us to London. We received a recruiter on board too, although without consequences because both sailors were strangers, the first mate had a charter and the boy did not seem to qualify. Overall, the view of this part of England was very beautiful because of its hilly location, and especially the situation of Gravesend and Tilbury Fort. By half past seven that night, we ran aground in the mud because another ship, which had been behind and unable to pass us the entire day, came alongside us. Without any opportunity to pass us, it pushed in such a manner that we ran aground, which fate befell itself shortly thereafter. Although the captain, who would
72 Probably the Theatre Royal Margate, built in 1787 (‘Theatre Royal’).
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otherwise have sailed from Middelburg to London without lowering the sails, regretted this incident, it was better for my traveling companion and me because we would have arrived in London in the early morning without having seen any of the intermediate places. Because our ship lay somewhat slanted, lying in my bunk that night was fairly uncomfortable.
Oct. 2. Saturday 2 October. Getting up at eight o’clock in the morning, I found that we had set sail at seven o’clock. This part of the journey was most entertaining because, with the wind behind us, we sailed around a large number of manoeuvring ships. By half past eleven, we were at Woolwich, where we saw a great many warships, including the 98-gun Boyne74, which offered a very proud
view, especially because of the many ships still stacked up. At various places between Woolwich and Greenwich, footpads hanging in chains there where they had robbed their victims decorated the riverbanks. At half past one, we arrived at Blackwall; then at Greenwich and at half past three, Captain McNeil docked approximately fifteen minutes from the Tower. From Blackwall to London, we sailed between houses, shipyards and ships up to the London Bridge, where, I was told, there were between 2000 and 3000 ships. The amazement this caused is hard to understand, especially because of the coalers, in which we saw the sailors unload the coals in their bare bodies. So, at half past three we were in London, having had a very successful journey. Overall, this journey from Middelburg to London cost me about ƒ30, including the expenses made for my suitcase. Of these ƒ30, 6 were for 18 ff books.
Having arrived at the mooring, Miss Wilcock, McNeil’s father, who had boarded our ship only a sh0rt while ago, and I disembarked into a sloop, and set foot
74 The HMS Boyne. A 98-gun second rate Royal Navy warship built by the Royal Dockyard at Woolwich, and
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ashore not far from the house of the aforementioned father at 1 Little Hermitage Street, where we stayed for a short while. McNeil’s father then led us to a Mr Closes on Great Tower Hill, where Miss Wilcock would stay. Mr Closes welcomed me very graciously, and invited me over for dinner the next day, which I accepted. By six o’clock, Captain McNeil came to get me and take me to his brother Thomas Beggett, a carpenter at 19 Old Bethlem, Bishopsgate Street without75, who welcomed me graciously together with his wife, and with whom
I would stay temporarily. After this, the captain went back to his ship. Because I had not mastered the language, I could hardly hold a conversation with my landlord and his wife. And being in London now without any clear knowledge of where to go in order to complete my goal, and thinking of my parents and friends, I was not very cheerful. My landlord, who perhaps noticed this, proposed a walk, which I accepted. He then led me to the meat market (Leadon’s Hall Market), which is the biggest market in London, to introduce me to the wealth and size of England, continuously asking me if there was such meat in Holland. Then, after having had dinner with them, I went to bed at ten o’clock at night because I was exhausted after the journey, and therefore declined the proposition to watch a fire that had started about half an hour from our house. I slept extraordinary well that night and found myself, aside from the small size of the room, very well put up.
Oct. 3. Sunday 3 October. At noon, I let my landlord take me to the house of Mr Closes at 21 Great Tower Hill, and along the way found that a large part of the people, of all ranks and ages, were in mourning over the duke of Cumberland76, who had
died recently. Having arrived at Mr Closes’, Miss Wilcock and the son and
75 The original site of the ancient priory and hospital of Bethlem in the north-west of London. The name has now
been changed to Liverpool Street.
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daughter of the house accompanied me for a walk to a certain Mistress Johnson at 5 Corbet Court, Grace Curch Street, to whom the reverend Wilcock had written in advance to inquire whether she had a room for me. This woman promised that she would help me to a room, as soon as an opportunity presented itself. Then we returned home to eat. After lunch, we took a tour around the Tower, and viewed its remarkable exterior details. After this, I went with Mr Closes to look at the remains of last night’s fire, and after tea, around seven o’clock, he brought me home, after which I amused myself with writing letters. Oct. 4. Monday 5 October. In the morning, captain McNeil and I went to deliver some of my letters of recommendation, but found no one to be home. Then I took a fruitless walk to Miss Wilcock with whom I had agreed to make a visit at noon, but it was cancelled due to the rainy weather. Hereupon, I returned to my lodging to eat, and found captain McNeil’s father, Mr Sutton, there. I walked with Mr Sutton to his house, where I found captain McNeil, who gave me directions to deliver a letter to the Messrs Huntsman & Co.77, who lived not far
from there on 27 Wapping. Subsequently, I walked with McNeil through the part of London where we found ourselves, named Wapping, which is not the most splendid part of London. Then I walked home and had tea with my landlord. Afterwards we visited a Dutch gentleman, named de Beaune78, who did not live
far from us. Then I walked to the part of the city of the stock exchange and the bank, etc. and bought a map of London. Then I returned home.
77 Possibly Huntsman & co. Benjamin Huntsman (1704-1776) invented crucible steel, and his son William
(1733-1809) continued the family business after his death (Hey par. 2&4).
78 This possibly indicates Abraham or Jan Jacob Beaune, two brothers from Amsterdam. In 1775, Abraham Beaune
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Oct. 5. Tuesday 5 October. At half past eleven in the morning, I went to meet Dr Saunders79, who lived on 13 New Broad Street, and for whom I had a letter of
recommendation from reverend Wilcock to ask for tuition in order to accomplish my goal in London. He then offered me elucidation and recommendations. After lunch, I visited reverend Putman at 3 Austin Friars and gave him a letter. Then I went on a fruitless search for another gentleman, but met Miss Closes and Miss Wilcock upon my return, the first of whom helped me out. Subsequently, I went home and spent the night working on my suitcase, which had been packed very carelessly by the employees of the Customs House, and which I rearranged for my professional use.
Oct. 6. Wednesday 6 October. That morning I visited Dr Lowder at 24 St. Saviour’s Churchyard in Southwark, who teaches obstetrics and runs a house for women in childbed and new mothers, and to whom I committed myself. From there, I went to Mr Cline80, who teaches surgery and anatomy, and with whom I
discussed my intentions. Then I visited Mr Armiger, a surgeon, who received me very graciously, and then I went to deliver my letter of credit from Mr Turing81
to Charles Herries & Co.82 on 5 Jeffries Square, St. Mary Axe. In the afternoon,
I rented a carriage and had it take me to Polandstreet, about an hour from my house, to deliver two letters from Professor Sandfort and Mr Turing to Dr Foart
79 This possibly is William Saunders, a physician from Banff, Scotland. He settled in London around 176, lectured
on medicine and was a member of Royal College of Physicians, the Royal Society of Edinburgh, the Society of Antiquaries and the Royal Society (Loudon 1-5).
80 Henry Cline (1750-1827) was a surgeon, born in London (Bevan par. 1).
81 Possibly John Turing, born on 13 December 1751 and died on 4 or 5 July 1798 in London (Daniel F. Morgan;
Sylvanus Urban 84:634).
82 Buying agents for the French tobacco monopoly (Johnson on British History). In order to control the import of
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Simmons83 on 16 Polandstreet, Oxford road and Mr Farquhar84 on Great
Marlboro Street. I found neither of these two gentlemen at home, so I walked back and saw a fire being extinguished in the distance, which had started at six o’clock that morning not far from Blackfriars Bridge, and had burned down six houses and killed one person. The upheaval this had caused was one of the reasons why I had had to wait in my carriage for half an hour in its vicinity before we were able to proceed because of the large number of carriages hat had come to a standstill facing each other.
Oct. 7. Thursday 7 October. That morning at half past seven, I attended my first obstetrics lecture with Dr Lowder, and upon this occasion found the way there to be very long, which made me think very seriously about lodgings in the same neighbourhood. At one o’clock, I attended a lecture in anatomy with Mr Cline. That morning I had agreed to have dinner with Mistress Johnson, which is where I went at four o’clock. Because of the reports I had heard about the exorbitant rates of the lectures, I was quite unsure that morning about how to divide my time.
Oct. 8. Friday 8 October. Returning from the lecture that morning, I joined the aforementioned Dr Saunders who taught and advised me, after which I decided to sign up for a six-month traineeship in St. Thomas’ and Guy’s hospitals, besides attending Dr Lowder’s lectures on attachments. During this traineeship, I would be allowed to attend all surgeons present, and assist in all operations. I
83 Samuel Foart Simmons (1750-1813) was a physician. He studied at Edinburgh University and graduated at Leiden
as MD in 1776. Simmons published eleven volumes of the London Medical Journal between 1781 and 1790, and eight journals of Medical Facts and Observations between 1790 and 1800. He became physician-extraordinary to King George III in 1804, when his illness returned (Brock par. 1-4).
84 Sir Walter Farquhar, first baronet (1738-1819).Farquhar did not graduate from medical school, but instead
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withdrew £50 from my banker that day, and in the afternoon walked through the Moorfields85 with my landlord.
Oct. 9. Saturday 9 October. That morning I made my way to Dr Saunders, and from there to Mr Cline whom I informed about my decision to train in the hospitals as a student. However, I requested to be excused from attending his anatomy lectures, on the one hand because they took up too much of my time, taking place from 1 to 3 pm. six times a week, and, on the other, because they were not the purpose of my visit. However, I asked him to allow me to make use of his dissection room, which he granted me. Subsequently, I went to St. Thomas’ hospital and paid £20 for which I received a note of admission. Then I took a walk to the side of Blackfriars Bridge, and in its vicinity beheld the ruins of a fire that had consumed six houses there last Wednesday.
In the afternoon, I took a walk to Sadler’s wells86, situated about a mile outside
of London, together with the gentlemen I had had lunch with that afternoon. We had intended seeing the tightrope walkers there, but because they do not perform on Saturdays, our walk was in vain. Next, we walked to Drury Lane Theatre87; however, there were no seats left here so we returned home after
having spent a little time in a tearoom. On the way back, I was astounded by the large crowd of priestesses of Venus88 that we came across in the streets. After
having spent some time at Mistress Johnson’s house, I returned home.
85 Barren fields stretching from Bishopsgate and Cripplesgate, to Finsbury and Holywell. After the Great Fire in
1666, those who had lost their homes crowded St. George’s Fields and Moorfields. Moorfields was also the site of Old Bethlem Hospital, a mental institution from 1676 to 1815 (‘Bethlem Royal Hospital par. 1-4; Thornbury ‘Moorfields and Finsbury 196-208).
86 The site of Sadler’s Wells Theatre, built in 1683 by Mr Sadler (Thornbury, ‘Sadler’s Wells’289-296). Performances
at Sadler’s Wells included burlettas, ballets, pantomimes and melodramas (Elmes 360), but also clowns, rope-dancing and other more circus-related acts (Thornbury, ‘Sadler’s Wells’ 289-296).
87 Now the Theatre Royal Drury Lane.
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Oct. 10. Sunday 10 October. That afternoon at two o’clock, I took a walk with my landlord to Temple bar89, from where we took a carriage to Westminster. First,
we viewed the Royal Mews, where we saw the most beautiful horses, although I did not consider the harnesses as fine as that of Mr Catheau, a famous horse lover back in Flushing. Next, we viewed the life-size equestrian statue of Charles I90, at which point my landlord told me that the sculptor had shot himself in the
head because he had been told, some time after the statue had been placed, that he had forgotten the horse’s crupper.
Next, we visited Westminster Abbey, the outside of which is, in part, very old, the oldest part dating back to the year 1220. For a while, I enjoyed myself here by looking at the many tombs (because it was Sunday, there was not much opportunity to see anything else), including the graves of Newton, Shakespeare, various war heroes, and others usually found in churches. Among these tombs, I was quite surprised to find the grave of a renowned actress, Mrs Pritchard91,
and that of Handel92. Subsequently, my landlord showed me the exterior of the
Houses of Parliament, Westminster Hall, the house newly built for the Duke of York93, the Treasury94, the Guards95, etc. Afterwards, we took a walk through St.
James’ Park, Green Park, Constitution Hill and a part of Hyde Park. Afterwards, we walked across Westminster Bridge to an inn named St. George’s Spa96, where
89 At the time a gate separating Fleet Street, London, from the Strand, Westminster. The bar’s purpose was mainly
decorative and ceremonial, but may have had an actual defensive purpose (cf. Mann 49: 75-99).
90 Statue of Charles I (1600-1649) erected in 1633 at Charing Cross by Hubert Le Sueur for the Lord Treasurer, Lord
Weston (‘Survey of London’ 16:258-68).
91 An actress and singer. Born on 28 October 1709 and died on 20 August 1768. In 1772, her work was rewarded
with a memorial tablet next to Shakespeare’s in Poets’ Corner (ODNB).
92 A composer. Born on 23 February 1685 in Halle-an-der-Saale (city in the German state Saxony-Anhalt) and died
on 14 April 1759 in Westminster. Handel was buried in Westminster Abbey and left £600 for a monument, including a statue of himself, to be placed there (ODNB).
93 Built in Whitehall in 1789 (Cox and Forrest plate 42).
94 The ‘Old Treasury’ on No. 70 Whitehall, dating from the early eighteenth century. This building now houses the
Cabinet Office (Le Cheminant 86).
95 Probably the Horse Guards in Whitehall. A building to house the horses and foot guards. The current building
was built by William Kent and John Vardy between 1750 and 1760 (Gater and Wheeler, ‘The Tiltyard’ 5-16).
96 Possibly the White Hart Inn on 17 St. George’s Street, a building from the seventeenth century (‘’St. George’s
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we had tea, and then returned across Blackfriars Bridge. Earlier I had been astonished to see many new houses being built near Moorfields; now I was no less surprised to see entire new blocks under construction. In the last fifteen or sixteen years, a part of town had formed between Blackfriars Bridge and Westminster Bridge that was bigger and much more densely populated than Flushing97. Overall, I found that it is almost impossible for someone who has
never been to London to form an image of its size, or imagine the way in which the houses are piled up here.
Oct. 11. Monday 11 October. On my way to Dr Lowder at half past seven that morning, the cold, the fog and the knowledge of having to cross the river every morning in winter made me decide not to wait for Mistress Johnson, but to look out for a room in the Borough, in order to live closer. To achieve this end, I acquainted myself with two gentlemen. That morning, after having walked around in Guy’s hospital for the first time, I saw Mr Lucas, one of the surgeons of Guy’s hospital, remove a urinary stone from a thirteen-year old girl.
For the purpose they serve, both St. Thomas’ and Guy’s hospitals are good, spacious and airy buildings. The first building was built by King Edward VI, whose statue is in its square, and the second building was built in 1730 or 40 by Mr Thomas Guy, a man who made a considerable fortune after starting a small book shop. A statue of him was raised in the square in front of the building. Six surgeons manage both these hospitals, and all surgery students have free access to these hospitals if they pay £20 for the first six months and after that pro rata.
97 Between the plague and Great Fire in the 1660s and 1800, London almost doubled in population, sparking a
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Oct. 12. Tuesday 12 October. That morning, I rented a room with Mr Edwards, a lighter man and coal dealer on 4 Weston-street near the Maze, Tooley Street in Southwark, with whom I agreed upon 40 Guineas for a year of board and lodging including breakfast, food, tea and accommodation, but I have to pay for my own fire and light in my room.
This day, like the previous one, I was a little indisposed by a cold and slight diarrhoea, which I attributed to the river water because hardly any other water is used in London. The water is pumped from the river through the city by several ingenious waterworks, to which end the ground beneath the city is riddled with wooden pipes that transport the water everywhere, for both daily use and extinguishing fires. In the latter case, a leather tube simply creates a connection between the wooden pipes and the pressure pump.
That night, as the previous one, my indisposition caused me to decline my dinner companions’ proposition to go to the theatre.
Oct. 13. Wednesday 13 October. For several reasons, I decided that day to cancel the room I had rented on the previous day, and await my time with Mistress Johnson. That night I accompanied my landlord, his wife and his sister on a trip to Sadler’s Wells, a town about half an hour from London. Here, I saw some sort of theatre where pieces from small operas were performed. I also saw two people walking the tightrope, several different farces and pantomimes depicting the shipwreck of a vessel named the Guardian98, and the French Feast of the
Federation 99 in short, a puppet play by live actors. Although none of these shows
98 The HMS Guardian. A fifth-rate store ship that hit an iceberg and almost sank on 24 December 1789 on its way
to Port Jackson (Sydney Harbour), Australia. The ship hit an iceberg in the southern sea, but managed to make its way back to the Cape of Good Hope (Riou xxi-xxix).
99 The first anniversary of the fall of the Bastille (Fête de la Fédération) on the Champ de Mars on 14 July 1790
