Davy, Herculaneam Papyri, and gossip from Rome, 1819

Dear blog,

I’ve been working in the British Library this week, with a day spent at the Science Museum archives in Wroughton, near Swindon. The latter was fascinating, apparently only 6% of the Science Museum’s objects are on show at any one time and so the aircraft hangers at Wroughton are used to house all their big items. I was told that one hanger contained solely tractors, another the first ever hovercraft, and then of course there are the printed materials and manuscripts of the Science Museum’s library and archive.

I’ve been reading a number of letters previously not published, which is very exciting. Some of those I’ve read over the past few days concern Davy’s attempts to unroll the Herculaneam papyri in 1819, an attempt clearly alluded to in the following Wordsworth poem of the same year:

O ye who patiently explore

The wreck of Herculanean lore,

What rapture could ye seize

Some Theban fragment, or unroll

One precious, tender-hearted scroll

Of pure Simonides!

That were, indeed, a genuine birth

Of poesy; a bursting forth

Of genius from the dust:

What Horace gloried to behold,

What Maro loved, shall we enfold?

Can haughty Time be just!

‘XXVIII. Upon the Same Occasion’, ll. 49-60 [from The Poetical Works (1849-1850)]

I’ve also found out (thanks to the speedy research of PhD student, Alison Morgan), that Shelley was definitely in Rome when Davy was there in April 1819 (Shelley arrived in Rome on 5th March 1819 and left Rome on 10th June). I shall have to investigate this further, but there was a particularly juicy piece of gossip given in one of Davy’s letter, which can’t refer to Shelley but to a female subject of scandal:

‘I can write to you nothing interesting from Rome. The exalted personage whose conduct has been so much the subject of discussion at home & abroad lives here in perfect retirement, has never once been out of doors & has seen nobody but Misss Mills and Dodwill amongst the English. The Italians who visit her say she talks of going to England & of dismissing her “braves gens” [ie. decent people] I suppose including the Barones upon pensions.’ (Davy to Sir William A’Court, 20 March 1820)

I’d love to know who is being spoken of here, if anyone has any ideas? There are lots of bits like this in the letters, which will take me some time to work out the detail of (if I ever do!).

I hadn’t realized too that Davy’s brother, John, was in the middle of war during 1815; in Paris in August: ‘– I have not heard from John for a fortnight but He was quite well when He wrote & in the neighbourhood of Paris at St Denis very glad that He embarked in the service in time to be useful to the Heroes who gained ummortal glory at Waterloo. –‘ (Davy to Boase, 27 August 1815)

It seems as though the letters I’m reading currently to John G. Children in the British Library have been numbered by Davy’s early (and unfair) biographer, John Ayrton Paris, which is useful to know but also unnerving. I’m still finding moments in Davy’s accounts of scientific experiments where  I think he expresses himself in an interesting, possibly poetic manner, such as ‘I hope on Thursday to show you Nitrogene a complete wreck, torn to pieces in different ways.’ (HD to JGC, 30 June 1809).

It’s all fascinating though also quite painstaking, particularly when I have to transcribe a letter from scratch. It’s fun though too!

All best,

Sharon

The Davy Family

Dear blog,

I’m in London now for a month to visit various archives, checking transcriptions of Humphry Davy letters against the originals and transcribing newly found letters. So far I’ve been to the Institution of Engineering and Technology (http://www.theiet.org/) and the Science Museum Library, which is in Imperial College Library.

It’s been lots of fun – I’ve read collections of letters, so letters to Michael Faraday in the IET and letters to Davy’s family (his mother, Grace, and sisters Betsy, Kitty, and Grace, and brother John). I’ve learned of his love of potatoes and salty fish from Penzance (he’s often asking his mother to send them to him), and it’s odd and slightly unnerving to read letters that cover a person’s whole life, from his initial excitable letters sent from the Pneumatic Institute to his rather more grumpy and stately letters as President of the Royal Institution. These letters do humanise Davy too; he clearly loves his family dearly, is hugely proud of his brother’s achievements, and misses his birthplace.

There’s an intriguing incident referred to in the letters that I would like to get to the bottom of concerning a Mr Millet, who has caused Davy some trouble in previous years because he married Davy’s sister Betsy though he had not a permanent situation (which Davy repeatedly tries to procure for him). Mr Millet (I think he is Mr John Baulderson Millet) is involved in some incident and is to be tried by the Admiralty (he has some position with them) early in 1826. Davy gives reassurance in his letters, convinced that Mr Millet will be acquitted and that there will be a verdict of accidental death. The story is that a pistol went off when Mr Millet fell but I don’t yet know the identity of the victim . This is all very exciting and none of these letters have been published before.

Plans are coming on well for event 4, which promises to be lots of fun, and the LitSciMed programme will feature in an article for the British Society for the History of Science newsletter, Viewpoint. Watch out for that.

I hope everyone is enjoying the summer.

All best,

Sharon