The Cotman Letters 1804-1833

the end of this Scrawl - This beats you, “quoth I.”
I hope Mrs. Turner has not been idle since I left Yarmouth. She has, I hope, persuaded Miss Hancock to sketch a little from Nature, a thing she wants much to practise in.
Peterborough is too perfect for my pencil. Every architect can make a better Drawing from that than I can, therefore to them I will yield up my claims.
The Inn is now quite full and nothing is heard but “Hounds and Horns, Horns and Hounds, Hounds and Horns.” You cannot imagine my disagreeable situation in a paltry inn, full of the worst company I ever heard. Hounds and Horns, then Song and a Villain of a fellow commanding silence with oaths too dreadful to be repeated, and this I find is their common custom from Morn till Night. I hope these brutes will let me sketch tomorrow. I doubt it much. Farewell, Sir, for to stand this noise longer would drive me mad. This continued sound of Noise and Havock is really disgraceful to Man - The Noise of Brutes is music to it. Oh! for a Welch Harp - or to be looking at some of your La Cave Sketches. I really am unwell, - and to get to rest is impossible. Pity me! Pity me - even though I am at Croyland - Farewell. There is now a cry of ‘Murder’ and ‘Take the Poker’, and a thousand other Noises, and even amidst it all in another room - Singing. There are now at this time no less than three Battles. Guess my situation. My Landlord at Peterborough said they were a set of shocking Villains.
Sunday evening. I have now finished all that I suppose I shall be able to finish (the Western Front). During my sketching it I was so molested that I am sorry to say I was obliged to give one of the Ringleaders a sound flogging. This brought on the Storm with increasing fury, but at last I was obliged to yield and here I was in the middle of the day almost afraid to stir lest I again