Chapter I: New France and Old Europe (1)

Rouen and its theatres--Painted windows--Paris--Costumes _à la Française_--The guillotine--Geneva--Vetturino travelling--Italy--Spain--The Ship _John_ of Leith--Gibraltar.

In June, 1802, Edward Stanley started on the first of those foreign journeys which, throughout his life, continued to be his favourite form of holiday.

He had just left Cambridge, having obtained a brilliant degree, and before taking Orders he set out with his college friend, Edward Hussey,[3] on the Grand Tour which was then considered necessary to complete a liberal education.

They were fortunate in the moment of their journey, for the Treaty of Amiens, which had been concluded only a few months before, had enabled Englishmen to tour safely in France for the first time for many years; and every scene in France was full of thrilling interest. The marks of the Reign of Terror were still plainly to be seen, and the new order of things which the First Consul had inaugurated was only just beginning.

It was an epoch-making journey to a young man fresh from college, and Edward Stanley was deeply impressed by what he saw.

He could compare his own experiences with those of his brother and father, who had been in France before the Revolution, and of his sister-in-law, Maria Josepha, who had travelled there just before the Reign of Terror; and in view of the destruction which had taken place since then, he was evidently convinced that Napoleon's iron hand was the greatest boon to the country.

He and his companion had the good fortune to leave France before the short interval of peace ended abruptly, and they were therefore saved from the fate of hundreds of their friends and fellow-travellers who had thronged across the Channel in 1802, and who were detained by Napoleon for years against their will.

Edward Stanley and Edward Hussey left France at the end of June, and went on to Switzerland, Italy, and finally to Spain, where the difficulties and dangers which they met, reveal the extraordinary dearth of personal comfort and civilised habits among that nation at the time.

The dangers and discomforts did not, however, interfere with the interest and pleasure of the writer who describes them. Then and ever after, travelling was Edward Stanley's delight, and he took any adventure in the spirit of the French song--

"Je suis touriste
Quel gai métier."

His letters to his father and brother show that he lost no opportunity of getting information and of recording what he saw; and he began on this journey the first of a long series of sketchbooks, by which he illustrated his later journeys so profusely.

_Edward Stanley to his Father, Sir John T. Stanley, Bart._

ROUEN, _June 11, 1802_.

MY DEAR FATHER,--You have already heard that I arrived here, & have been fortunate in every thing since I left England. Our passage from Brighton to Dieppe was short and pleasant, and so was our stay at Dieppe, which we left the morning after we arrived in it. I never saw France before the Revolution, & therefore cannot judge of the Contrasted appearance of its towns, but this I can safely say, that I never before saw such strong marks of Poverty both in the houses & Inhabitants. I have as yet seen nothing like a Gentleman; probably many may affect the dress and manners of the lower Orders, in order to screen themselves & may consider that an outward show of Poverty is the only way of securing what Riches they have. I can conceive nothing so melancholy.

When I saw fine seats without Windows or with shattered Roofs, & everywhere falling to decay, I could not help thinking of their unfortunate Owners, who, even if they were lucky enough to be reinstated in their possessions, might fear to repair their Places, lest an Appearance of comfort might tempt the Government to seize their Effects. The only Buildings at all tolerable are the Barracks, which in general are large and well taken care of, & plenty of them there are in every town and village. Every Person is here a Soldier, ready to turn out at a moment's warning. This Town is in a flourishing State at present, tho' during the war not a single ship made its appearance in its Ports; now there are a great number of Vessels, chiefly Dutch. The Trade is Cotton, for the Manufactory of Stuffs and Handkerchiefs. It is said to be one of the dearest towns in France; certainly I have not found things very cheap. We were at the Play last night. An Opera called "La Dot," and an after piece called "Blaise & Bullet" were performed. The Actors were capital, at Drury Lane they could not have acted better. The House is very large for a Country Theatre and very pretty, but so shockingly filthy and offensive, that I wondered any Person could go often, but habit, I suppose, reconciles everything. There were a great many officers in the Boxes, a haughty set of beings, who treat their Compatriotes in a very scurvy way. They are the Kings of the place and do what they please. Indeed, we had a fine Specimen of Liberty during the Performances. An Actress had been sent to Rouen from Paris, a wretched Performer she was, but from Paris she came, and the Managers were obliged to accept her & make her act. The Consequence was, she soon got hissed, and a Note was thrown on the Stage; whatever it was they were not permitted to read or make it public till they had shewn it to the Officer of Police, who in the present Case would not let them read it. The hissing was, however, continued from Corners of the House, & one man who sate near us talked in a high style about the People being imposed on, when in the middle of his Speech I saw this Man of Liberty jump out of the Box and disappear in an Instant. I opened the Box door to see what was the cause, when lo! the Lobby was filled with Soldiers, with their Bayonets fix'd, and the officer was looking about for any Person who might dare to whistle or hiss, and silent and contented were the Audience the rest of the Performance. I cannot help mentioning a Speech I heard this very evening at the Play. A Man was sitting near a Lady & very angry he was, & attempted often to hiss, but was for some time kept quiet by the Lady. At last he lost all Patience and exclaimed, "Ma Foi, Madame, Je ferai ici comme si jétais en Angleterre où on fait tout ce qu'on plait." And away he went to hiss; with what effect his determination a l'Angloise was attended, I have mentioned. I afterwards entered into conversation with the Lady, & when she told me about the Police Officer not giving permission to read the note, she added, looking at us, "to you, Gentlemen, this must be a second Comedy." Last night (Sunday) I went to a Fête about a mile from the Town; we paid 1s. 3d. each. It concluded with a grand Firework. It was a sort of Vauxhall. In one part of the Gardens they were dancing Cotillons, in another swinging. In another part bands of Music. I was never so much entertained as with the Dancers; most of them were Children. One little set in a Cotillon danced in a Style I could not have fancied possible; you will think I am telling a _Traveller's_ Story when I tell you I thought they performed nearly as well as I could have seen at the Opera. Here, as at the Theatre, Soldiers kept every body in awe; a strong party of Dragoons were posted round the Gardens with their horses saddled close at hand ready to act. I din'd yesterday at a Table d'Hôte, with five French Officers. In my life I never saw such ill bred Blackguards, dirty in their way of eating, overbearing in their Conversation, tho' they never condescended to address themselves to us, and more proud and aristocratical than any of the _ci-devant Noblesse_ could ever have been. From this Moment I believe all the Accounts I have heard from our officers of the French officers who were prisoners during the War. They were always insolent, and excepting in some few cases, ungratefull in the extreme for any kindness shewn to them.

_To face p. 31._]

PARIS, _June 17th_.

The Day before yesterday I arrived in this Metropolis. We left Rouen in a Diligence & had a pleasant Journey; the Country we passed over was throughout extremely fertile; whatever Scarcity exists at present in France, it must be of short duration, as the Harvest promises to be abundant, and as every Field is corn land, the quantity of Grain will be immense. Government has indeed now taken every precaution. The Ports of Rouen & Dieppe were filled with Ships from Embden & Dantzig with Corn. Our Diligence was accompanied all the Night by a Guard of Dragoons, and we passed every now and then parties of Foot Soldiers on the Watch. The reason was, that the road had lately been infested with Robbers, who attacked the Public Carriages in great numbers, sometimes to the Amount of 40 together. They in general behaved well to the Passengers, requiring only any Money belonging to Government which might happen to be in the Carriage. At present as the Leader is taken and the Band dispersed, there is no Danger, but it is a good excuse to keep a Number of Troops in that part of the Country. We entered Paris by St. Denis, but the fine Church and Royal Palace are not now as they were in your time. The Former is in part unroofed and considerably damaged--the latter is a Barrack and from its outward appearance seems to have suffered much in the Revolution. The City of Paris on entering it by no means strikes a stranger. In your time it must have been but tolerable, now it is worse, as every other house seems to be falling down or to be deserted. We have taken our abode in the Rue de Vivienne at the Hôtel de Boston, a central Situation and the house tolerably dear. The poor Hussey suffered so much from a Nest of Buggs the first night, that he after enduring them to forage on his body for an Hour, left his Bed & passed the night on a sofa. A propos, I must beg to inform Mr. Hugh Leycester that I paid Attention to the Conveyances on the road & think that he will have no reason to complain of them; the vehicles are not quite so good as in England nor are the Horses, but both are still very tolerable. The Inns I slept at were very good, and the roads by no means bad. I have been to a Play every Night since my arrival in Paris and shall continue so to do till I have seen all the theatres. The first evening I went to the "Théâtre de la République"; I am told it is the best. At least the first Actors performed there. It is not to be compared with any of ours in style of fitting up. The want of light which first strikes a Stranger's eye on entering a foreign Play-house has its Advantage. It shews off the Performers and induces the Audience to pay more Attention to ye Stage, but the brilliant Effect we are used to find on entering our Theatres is wanting. This House is not fitted up with any taste. I thought the theatre at Rouen preferable. The famous Talma, the Kemble, acted in a Tragedy, & Mme. Petit, the Mrs. Siddons of Paris, performed. The former, I think, must have seen Kemble, as he resembles him both in person and style of acting, but I did not admire him so much. In his silent Acting, however, he was very great. Mme. Petit acted better than any tragic Actress I have ever seen, excepting Mrs. Siddons. After the Play last Night I went to the Frascati, a sort of Vauxhall where you pay nothing on entering, but are expected to take some refreshments. This, Mr. Palmer told me, was the Lounge of the Beau Monde, who were all to be found here after the Opera & Plays. We have nothing of the sort in England, therefore I shall not attempt to describe it. We staid here about an hour. The Company was numerous, & I suppose the best, at least it was better than any I had seen at the Theatres or in the Walks, but it appeared to me to be very bad. The Men I shall say nothing more of, they are all the same. They come to all Places in dirty Neckcloths or Pocket Handkerchiefs tied round their necks & most of them have filthy great Coats & Boots, in short, Dress amongst the Bucks (& I am told that within this Month or two they are very much improved) seems to be quite out of the Question. As for the Ladies, O mon Dieu! Madame Récamier's[4] Dress at Boodles was by no means extraordinary. My sister can describe that and then you may form some idea of them. By what I can judge from outward appearance, the Morals of Paris must be at a very low ebb. I may perhaps see more of them, when I go to the Opera & Parties. I have a thousand things more to say, but have no room. This Letter has been written at such out of the way times & by little bits at a time, that I know not how you will connect it, but I have not a moment to spare in the regular Course of the Day. It is now between 6 & 7 o'Clock in the Morning, and as I cannot find my Cloaths am sitting in a Dress à la Mode d'une Dame Française till Charles comes up with them. Paris is full of English, amongst others I saw Montague Matthews at the Frascati. I shall stay here till 5th July, as my chance of seeing Buonaparte depends on my staying till 4th, when he reviews the Consular Guard. He is a fine fellow by all accounts; a Military Government when such a head as his manages everything cannot be called a Grievance. Indeed, it is productive of so much order and regularity, that I begin not to dislike it so much. At the Theatres you have no disturbance. In the streets Carriages are kept in order--in short, it is supreme and seems to suit this Country vastly well, but God forbid I should ever witness it in England. You may write to me and tell others so to do till the 25th of June. Adieu; I cannot tell when I shall write again. This you know is a Family Epistle, therefore Farewell to you all.

ED. STANLEY.

I have just paid a visit to Madame de D. She received me very graciously, & strongly pressed me to stay till 14th of July to be present at the Grand Day. She says Paris is not now worth seeing, but then every Person will be in Town. If there is no other way of seeing Buonaparte I believe I shall stay--but I do not wish it--I shall prefer Geneva.

_Edward Stanley to his brother, J. T. Stanley._

HOTEL DE BOSTON, RUE VIVIENNE, _June 21, 1802_.

MY DEAR BROTHER,-- ... I sailed from Brighton on the evening of 8th and was wafted by a fine Breeze towards this Coast, which we made early on the morning of 9th, but owing to the tide, which had drifted us too much to leeward of Dieppe, we were unable to land before noon. We were carried before the Officer of the municipality, who after taking down our names, ages, & destination, left us to ramble about at pleasure. Whatever Dieppe might have been before the Revolution, it is now a melancholy-looking place. Large houses falling to ruin. Inhabitants poor, Streets full of Soldiers, & Churches turned into Stables, Barracks, or Magazines. We staid there but one night & then proceeded in one of their Diligences to Rouen. These Conveyances you of course have often seen; they are not as Speedy in their motion as an English Mail Coach, or as easy as a Curricle, but we have found them very convenient, & shall not complain of our travelling accommodation if we are always fortunate enough to meet with these vehicles. At Rouen we staid four days, as the Town is large and well worth seeing; I then made an attempt to procure you some painted glass; as almost all the Churches and all the Convents are destroyed, their fine windows are neglected, & the panes broken or carried off by almost every person. The _Stable_ from whence our Diligence started had some beautiful windows, and had I thought of it in time I think I might have sent you some. As it was I went to the owner of the Churches & asked him if he would sell any of the windows. Now tho' ever since he has had possession of them Everybody has been permitted to demolish at pleasure, he no sooner found that a Stranger was anxious to procure what to him was of no value, & what he had hitherto thought worth nothing, than he began to think he might take advantage & therefore told me that he would give me an answer in a few days if I would wait till he could see what they were worth. As I was going the next morning I could not hear the result, but I think you could for one guinea purchase nearly a whole Church window, at least it may be worth your while to send to Liverpool to know if any Ship is at any time going there. The Proprietor of these Churches is a Banker, by name Tezart; he lives in la Rue aux Ours.

I arrived in Paris on the 15th, and intend staying even till the 14th of July if I cannot before then see the chief Consul. Hitherto I have been unfortunate; I have in vain attended at the Thuilleries when the Consular guard is relieved, and seated myself opposite his box at the Opera. On the 4th of July, however, there is a Review of his Guard, when he always appears, then I shall do my utmost to get a view of him. I cannot be introduced as I have not been at our Court, and no King was ever more fond of Court Etiquette than Buonaparte. He resides in the Thuilleries; opposite to his windows is the place de Carousel, which he has Separated from the great Area by a long Iron railing with three Gates. On each side of the 2 side Gates are placed the famous brazen horses from Venice, the middle Gate has 2 Lodges, where are stationed Horse Guards. Above this Gate are four Gilt Spears on which are perched the Cock & a Civic wreath which I at first took for the Roman Eagle, borne before their Consuls, resembling it in every other respect. These Gates are shut every night and also on every Review day. Paris, like all the Country, swarms with Soldiers; in Every Street there is a Barrack. In Paris alone there are upwards of 15 thousand men. I must say nothing of the Government. It is highly necessary in France for every person, particularly Strangers, to be careful in delivering their opinions; I can only say that the _Slavery_ of it is infinitely more to my taste than the _Freedom_ of France. The public Exhibitions (and indeed almost Every thing is public) are on a scale of Liberality which should put England to the blush. Everything is open without money. The finest library I ever saw is open Daily to Every person. You have but to ask for any book, & you are furnished with it, and accommodated with table, pens, ink, & paper. The Louvre, the finest Collection of pictures and Statues in the world, is likewise open, & not merely open to view. It is filled, excepting on the public days, with artists who are at liberty to copy anything they please. Where in England can we boast of anything like this? Our British Museum is only to be seen by interest, & then shewn in a very cursory manner. Our Public Libraries at the Universities are equally difficult of access. It is the most politic thing the Government could have done. The Arts are here encouraged in a most liberal manner. Authors, Painters, Sculptors, and, in short, all persons in France, have opportunities of improving themselves which can not be found in any other Country in the World, not even in Britain. You may easily conceive that I who am fond of painting was most highly Entertained in viewing the Great Gallery of the Louvre, & yet you will, I am sure, think my taste very deficient when I tell you that I do not admire the finest pictures of Raphael, Titian, Guido, and Paul Veronese, so much as I do those of Rubens, Vandyck, & le Brun, nor the landscapes of Claude and Poussin so much as Vernet's. Rembrandt, Gerard Dow & his pupils Mieris and Metsu please me more than any other artists. In the whole Collection they have but one of Salvator's, but that one, I think, is preferable to all Raphael's. I have not yet seen statues enough to be judge of their beauties. The Apollo of Belvidere & the celebrated Laocoon lose, therefore, much of their Excellence when seen by me. There is still a fine Collection in the Palace of Versailles, but the view of that once Royal Palace excites the most melancholy ideas. The furniture was all sold by auction, & nothing is left but the walls and their pictures. The Gardens are much neglected, & will soon, unless the Consul again makes it a royal residence, be quite ruined. You have, I daresay, often heard that the Morals & Society of Paris were very bad; indeed, you have heard nothing but the truth. As for the men, they are the dirtiest set of fellows I ever saw, and most of them, especially the Officers, very unlike Gentlemen. The dress of the women, with few exceptions, is highly indecent; in London, even in Drury Lane, I have seen few near so bad. Before I left England, I had heard, but never believed, that some Ladies paraded the streets in men's Clothes. It is singular that in the first genteel-looking person I spoke to in Paris to ask my way, I was answered by what I then perceived a lady in Breeches & boots, since when I have seen several at the Theatres, at the Frascati & fashionable lounges of the evening, & in the Streets and public walks! I have not heard from you since I left England. Excepting the letter which was forwarded from Grosvenor Place. I hope to hear at Geneva, where I shall go as soon as the great Consul will permit me by shewing himself. The Country is in the finest state possible, and their weather most favourable. They have had a scarcity of corn lately, but the approaching Harvest will most assuredly remove that. Adieu; I hope Mrs. Stanley has already received a very trifling present from me; I only sent it because it was classic wood. I mean the necklace made of Milton's mulberry-tree. I brought the wood from Christ's College Garden, in Cambridge, where Milton himself planted it.

Believe me,

Yours sincerely,

EDWD. STANLEY.

_From Edward Stanley to his Father and Mother._

LYONS, _July 20, 1802_.

I shall not write you a very long letter as I intend to send you a more particular account of myself from Geneva, for which place we propose setting out to-morrow, not by the Diligence, but by the Vetturino, a mode of travelling which, of course, you are well acquainted with, being the usual and almost only method practised throughout Italy unless a person has his own carriage. I am to pay £3 10s. for ourselves and Suite, but not including bed and provisions. South of the Alps these are agreed for.

After every endeavour to see Buonaparte had proved vain, on the 6th of July we quitted Paris in a Cabriolet. All this night, and especially the next day, we thought we should be broiled to death; the thermometer was at 95 the noon of July 7th; as you relish that, you may have some idea of the Luxury you would have enjoyed with us.

We arrived at Troyes on the evening of the 7th, an old town in Champagne. People civil and excellent Living, as the Landlord was a _ci-devant_ Head cook to a convent of Benedictines, but Hussey and Charles were almost devoured in the Night by our old enemies the Bugs. Hussey was obliged to change his room and sleep all next day. I escaped without the least visit, and I am persuaded that if a famine wasted the Bugs of the whole Earth, they would sooner perish than touch me.

We left Troyes early on the morning of the 9th, arrived at Chatillon at four, and stayed there all night, for the Diligences do not travel so fast as in England. We left it at four the next morning, Hussey, as usual smarting, and I very little refreshed by sleep, as owing to a Compound of Ducks and Chickens who kept up a constant chorus within five yards of my bed, a sad noise in the kitchen from which I was barely separated, Dogs barking, Waggon Bells ringing, &c., I could scarcely close my eyes.

At Dijon, beautiful Dijon, we arrived on the Evening of the 10th. Had I known it had been so sweet a Town I should have stayed longer, but we had taken our places to Châlons and were obliged to pass on. You, I believe, staid some time there, but, alas! how different now! The Army of rescue was encamped for some time in its neighbourhood, and the many respectable families who lived in or near it rendered it a sad prey to the hand of Robespierre. Its Churches and Convents are in a deplorable state, even as those of this still more unfortunate Town. The best Houses are shut up, and its finest Buildings are occupied by the Military. We left on the morning of the 11th, travelled safely (except a slight breakdown at our journey's end) to Châlons sur Saône, and on the 11th went by the water-diligence to Macon, where we stopped to sleep. We arrived at dusk, and as we were in a dark staircase exploring our way and speaking English, we heard a voice say, "This way, Sir; here is the supper." We were quite rejoiced to hear an English voice, particularly in such a place.

We soon met the speaker, and passed a most pleasant Hour with him. He proved to be a Passenger like ourselves in the Diligence from Lyons which met ours here at the Common resting-place. He was a Surgeon of the Staff, returning from Egypt, by name Shute. We all three talked together, and as loud as we could; the Company, I believe, thought us strange Beings. We told him what we could of England in a short time, he of the South, and we exchanged every Species of information, and were sorry when it was necessary to part.

_To face p. 43._]

We arrived at Lyons on the 14th, the Day of the Grand Fête. We saw the Town Hall illuminated, and a Review on the melancholy Plains of Buttereaux, the common Tomb of so many Lyonnese. Here we have remained since, but shall probably be at Geneva on the 23rd. I lodge at the Hotel de Parc looking into the Place de Ferreant.

The Landlady, to my great surprise, spoke to me in English very fluently. She is also a very excellent Spaniard. She has seen better days, her husband having been a Merchant, but the Revolution destroyed him. She was Prisoner for some time at Liverpool, taken by a Privateer belonging to Tarleton and Rigge, who, I am sorry to say, did not behave quite so handsomely as they should, the private property not having been restored.

Of all the Towns I have seen this has suffered most. All the Châteaux and Villas in its most beautiful Environs are shut up. The fine Square of St. Louis le Grand, then Belle Cour, now Place Buonaparte, is knocked to pieces; the fine Statue is broken and removed, and nothing left that could remind you of what it was.

I have been witness to a scene which, of course, my curiosity as a Traveller would not let me pass over, but which I hope not to see again--an Execution on the Guillotine. Charles saw a man suffer at Châlons; we did not know till it was over, but the Machine was still standing, and the marks of the Execution very recent. On looking out of my window the morning after our arrival here, I saw the dreadful Instrument in the Place de Ferreant, and on inquiry found that five men were to be beheaded in the morning and two in the evening. They deserved their fate; they had robbed some Farmhouses and committed some cruelties. In England, however, they would probably have escaped, as the evidence was chiefly presumptive. They were brought to the Scaffold from the Prison, tied each with his arms behind him and again to each other; they were attended by a Priest, not, however, in black, and a party of soldiers. The time of execution of the whole five did not exceed five minutes. Of all situations in the world, I can conceive of none half so terrible as that of the last Prisoner. He saw his companions ascend one after another, heard each fatal blow, and saw each Body thrown aside to make room for him. I shall never forget his countenance when he stretched out his neck on the fatal board. He shut his eyes on looking down where the heads of his companions had fallen, and instantly his face turned from ghastly paleness to a deep red, and the wire was touched and he was no more. Of all Deaths it is far the most easy; not a convulsive struggle could be perceived after the blow. The sight is horrid in the extreme, though not awful, as no ceremony is used to make it so. Those who have daily seen 200 suffer without the least ceremony or trial get hardened to the sight.

The mode of Execution in England is not so speedy certainly nor so horrid, but it is conducted with a degree of Solemnity that must impress the mind most forcibly. I did not see the two who suffered in the evening, the morning's business was quite enough to satisfy my curiosity.

The next Morning I saw a punishment a degree less shocking, though I think the Prisoner's fate was little better than those of the day before. He was seated on a Scaffold in the same place for Public View, there to remain for six hours and then to be imprisoned in irons for 18 years, a Term (as he is 41) I think he will not survive.

What with the immediate effects of the Siege and events that followed, the Town has suffered so much in its Buildings and inhabitants, that I think it will never recover. The Manufactories of silk are just beginning to shoot up by slow degrees. Formerly they afforded employment to 40,000 men, now not above half that number can be found, and they cannot earn so much. Were I a Lyonese I should wish to plant the plains of Buttereaux with cypress-trees and close them in with rails. The Place had been a scene of too much horror to remain open for Public amusement. The fine Hôpital de la Charité, against which the besiegers directed their heaviest cannon in spite of the Black ensign, which it is customary to hoist over buildings of that nature during a Siege, is much damaged, though scarcely so much as I should have expected. The Romantic Castle of the Pierre Suisse is no longer to be found, it was destroyed early in the troubles together with most of the Roman Antiquities round Lyons. I yesterday dined with two more Englishmen at the Table d'hôte; they were from the South; one, from his conversation a Navy officer, had been absent seven years, and had been in the Garrison of Porte Ferrajo in the Isle of Elba, the other an Egyptian Hero. There is also a Colonel from the same place whose name I know not.

I heard it was an easy thing to be introduced to the Pope,[5] if letters are to be had for our Minister, whose name is Fagan, or something like it. Now, as I may if I can get an opportunity when at Geneva to pay a visit to Rome and Florence previous to passing the Pyrenees, I should like a letter to this Mr. Fagan, if one can be got. As Buonaparte's Pope is not, I believe, so particular as the Hero himself with regard to introductions, I may perhaps be presented to him. I look forward with inexpressible pleasure to my arrival at Geneva, to find myself amongst old friends and to meet with, I hope, an immense collection of letters.

The Vineyards promise to be very abundant; of course we tasted some of the best when in Burgundy and Champagne. What a country that is! The corn to the East of Paris is not so promising as that in Normandy. The frosts which we felt in May have extended even more to the South than to this Town. The apple-trees of Normandy have suffered most, and the vines in the Northern parts of France have also been damaged.... I shall go from Geneva to Genoa, and there hold a council of war.

GENEVA.

...Between Lyons and Geneva we supped with the Passengers of a Vetturino. Two of these were Officers in the French Service, one of them a Swiss, the other a Frenchman. The conversation soon fell upon Politics, in which I did not choose to join, but was sufficiently entertained in hearing the Discourse. Both agreed in abominating the present state of Affairs. The Swiss hated the Consul, because he destroyed his Country, the other because he was too like a King. Both were Philosophers, and each declared himself to be a Moralist. The Frenchman was by far the most vehement of the two, and the Swiss seemed to take much pleasure in leading him on. His philosophy seemed to be drawn from a source equally pure with his Morality; assuming for his Motto his first and favourite Maxim, "que tous les hommes sont égaux par les lois de la Nature," &c., he thought himself justified in wishing Buonaparte (I was going to say) at the Devil (but I soon found out that the existence of that Gentleman was a matter of great doubt with the Philosopher) for daring to call himself the Head of the French Republic. His hatred of Power was only equalled by his aversion to the English, whom he seemed to abhor from the bottom of his heart, so much so, that when I attempted to defend the First Consul, he dashed out with a Torrent of abuse, and ended by saying, "Et enfin c'est lui qui a fait la paix avec l'Angleterre."

I was for some time in doubt what part of the Revolution he preferred, but by defending Robespierre, he soon gave me an Idea of his Love of Liberty, Morality, Equality, and so forth. I was sorry he retired so soon after Supper, as I never was more entertained in my life in so short a time as with this little Fellow, as singular in his Figure and Dress as in his Manner, and he contrived to be always eating as well as talking.

_Edward Stanley to his brother J, T. Stanley._

_Argonauta_, OFF HYÈRES, _Sept. 29, 1802._

MY DEAR BROTHER,--Before I left Geneva I firmly intended writing to you, but as I left it unexpectedly and sooner than I intended I had not time, but this, and all my adventures till I left it, I hope you have already heard, as I wrote two letters, one to my Father, the other to my Mother before I quitted Geneva. You will no doubt be Surprised, and perhaps envy my present situation. Where do you think I am? Why, truly, writing on a cot between two 24-pounders in a Spanish 84. You will wonder, I am sure, at seeing the date of this letter, and perhaps wish to know by what good fortune I found a berth in a Spanish man-of-war, an Event which I little expected when I wrote last. I shall begin my story from Geneva, and you shall hear my adventures to the present moment. We left Geneva in a Vetturino for Turin, a Journey which took up 8 days longer than it naturally should have done, but our Coachman was taken ill, & we were on his account obliged to travel slowly. But I was not impatient, as you will know the Scenery is beautiful; we crossed Mount Cenis, which, after St. Bernard's, cannot be called a difficult pass. At Turin we stayed 3 days. It is now a melancholy Town, without commerce, & decreasing daily in population. The celebrated Jourdan[6] is the ruler of the place, & with his wife lives in the King's Palace. From Turin we went to Genoa, passing through Country not equal in Scenery, but infinitely more interesting than that between Geneva & Turin, every step almost having been the scene of battle, and every Town the Object of a siege. But the most interesting spot of all was the plain of Marengo, near Alessandria. As we travelled in the Diligence I had not so good an opportunity of viewing it as I should have had in a Vetturino, but we stopped a short time to see the monument which is raised to commemorate the victory; it is erected near 2 remarkable spots, one where Desaix[7] fell, the other the House from which Buonaparte wrote an account of the event to the Directory.

We passed also thro' Novi, every House in which is marked by Shot; that unfortunate Town has been three times pillaged during the war. We arrived at Genoa on the 10th of Septr., in my opinion the most magnificent Town for its size I ever saw. The Palaces are beyond conception beautiful, or rather were, for the French Troops are not at this moment admitted within the Gates; they are quartered in the Suburb in great numbers. As for the new Government, it is easily seen who is at the head of it. There is a Doge, to be sure, but his orders come all from Paris. While we were waiting there expecting a ship to sail to Barcelona, the _Medusa_, English Frigate, came in, and amongst its passengers who came with her we found a Cambridge acquaintance, who advised us to go without delay to Leghorn as the Spanish Squadron was waiting there for the King of Etruria[8] in order to carry him to Barcelona. Fortunately the next day an English Brig was going, & in her we took our passages; we were fortunate enough to receive a large packet of letters from England a few hours before she sailed, which had she sailed at the time the Captain intended we should have missed. Will you let my sisters know that they arrived safe? I am not without hopes of making some use of the interesting letters to Italy, tho' I am now steering to the westward. After a good passage of two days we arrived at Leghorn and found the Spaniards still there. As soon as I landed I delivered a letter to a Mr. Callyer, a Liverpool Gentleman who is settled there, & by his means was introduced to the Admiral's first Lieut., who promised to secure me a berth in some of the ships. In short, here I am in a very fine ship, tho' a horrid sailer. I have now given you a short sketch of my tour till arriving at Leghorn; I have only to say something of Leghorn and the _Argonauta_. The Town has suffered very much by the war, supported nearly as it was by its Commerce with England. The inhabitants saw with little pleasure a French army take possession of the place & drive away the English. They still have a strong force in the town--upwards of 2,000--and its fortifications have been dismantled. It is singular enough to see the French and Tuscan colours flying together on the same staff. When we entered the port the Tuscan Ensign was becalmed & the French flag was flying _by itself_. I was much grieved not to be able to visit Florence when so near it, but as the Squadron was in daily expectation of sailing I did not venture to be absent for 4 days, which the Journey would have required. I was therefore obliged to content myself with a view of Pisa, which I would not have missed on any account. The leaning Tower is a curiosity in itself sufficient to induce a stranger to make a long journey to visit it. Here the King of Etruria lived and was hourly expected to set out for Leghorn. But his health, as it was believed, was in so precarious a State that it was sometimes reported that he would not go at all. The Queen, indeed, was in a very critical state, and were it not that her children, she being an Infanta of Spain, are entitled to a certain sum of money by no means small, provided they were born in Spain, it would have been madness in her to have undertaken the voyage; indeed, I think it highly probable that a young Prince will make his appearance ere we arrive at Barcelona. After having spent a longer time than I liked at Leghorn, which has nothing curious to recommend it, at length it was given out that on the 26th the K. would certainly arrive from Pisa and embark as soon as possible. Accordingly at 6 o'Clock on that day all the houses were ornamented in the Italian style by a display of different coloured Streamers, etc., from the windows, & His Majesty entered the Town. Had I been a King I should have been not altogether pleased with my reception. He appeared in the Balcony of the Grand Duke's Palace, no one cried, "Viva Ludovico I!" He went to the Theatre the same Evening, which was illuminated on the occasion, &, of course, much crowded. I do not think our opera could have boasted a finer display of Diamonds than I saw that Evening in the Ladies' heads, but, be it remembered, that there are 7,000 Jews in Leghorn, not one of whom is poor; some are reported to be worth a million. Many of the Italians are also very rich. Next day we were informed that it was necessary to repair on board our ship, as the King was to go early on the 20th. The Naval Scene received an addition on 26th by the arrival of 2 French frigates from Porto Ferrajo. They had carried a fresh garrison there & landed 500 men of the former one at Leghorn; they marched immediately, as it was said, to garrison Florence. On the 27th the Spaniards and French, the only ships of war in the roads, saluted, were manned and dressed. At Eleven o'Clock of the 27th (after having again seen the K. at the Opera) in the Launch of the _Argonauta_ we left Leghorn & went on board, for the first time in my life, to spend I hope many days in so large a ship. She was one of that unfortunate Squadron which came forth from Cadiz to convey home Adl. Linois[9] & his prize the _Hannibal_, after our unsuccessful attack in Algeciras bay. This Ship suffered little; she was then a better sailer than she is now, or most probably she would not be at present in the Service of Spain. Early on the morning of the 28th the Marines were on the deck. It blew fresh from the shore, & it was doubted whether the K. would venture; at 8 o'Clock, however, the Royal barge was seen coming out of the Mole. The Admiral's Ship, _La Reyna Louisa_, gave the signal & at the instant Every Ship fired 3 royal salutes. The Effect was very beautiful; we were the nearest to the Admiral, nearer the land were the 2 other Spanish frigates, & abreast of us the two French Ships. They were all dressed, and as the King passed near them they were manned and three cheers were given. The King's boat came first, then the Queen's. After them followed the Consuls of the different Nations who were at Leghorn, & after them a boat from each of the Ships. There were besides a great number of other boats & Ships sailing about. Soon after the King had arrived on board the _Reyna Louisa_, of 120 guns, the Signal was made for preparing to Sail, & soon after the Signal for Sailing. We all got under weigh, but as our Ship was a bad sailer we had the mortification of seeing ourselves left far behind in a short time. We have had nothing but light winds ever since, & for the last two days contrary, but I am not in the smallest degree impatient to get to Barcelona. The Novelty of Scene, more especially as it is a naval one, pleases me more than anything I have met with hitherto. We are, however, now (Oct. 3rd) looking out for land. Cape Sebastian will be the point we shall first see in Spain, & I much fear that to-morrow night I shall sleep in Barcelona. Of the Discipline of the Spanish Navy I cannot say much, nor can I praise their cleanliness. I wish much to see a storm. How they manage then I do not know, for when it blows hard the sailors will not go aloft; as for the officers or Midshipmen, they never think of it. Indeed, the latter live exactly as well as the officers; they mess with them, have as good berths, & are as familiar with them as they are with each other; very different in every respect from the discipline in English Men of War. I shall write another letter to my sisters by this post; as they are at Highlake you may exchange letters. Soon I shall write to you again. I have to thank you for a very long letter which I received at Geneva, chiefly relating to the proper judgement of paintings. I am not yet quite a convert, but experience may improve me. In Spain I understand I shall see some very good ones by the first masters. I fear much that my desire of visiting Spain will not be so keen as it was when I have seen a very little of it. By all accounts, even from Spaniards themselves, travelling is very inconvenient, & what is infinitely worse, very expensive; added to which the intolerable Suspicion & care of the Government renders any stay there very unpleasant. In case I find myself not at my ease there I shall, when at Gibraltar, take a passage back to Italy, for Rome & Naples must be seen. Now I think of it I must mention one ship well known to you which I saw at Leghorn, namely, the _John of Leith_. I accidentally saw her boat with the name written; you may be sure I looked at her with no small pleasure.[10] When I sought for her next day she was gone. I little thought when I last saw you to see a ship in which you had spent so much time, up the Mediterranean. I am learning Spanish at present, & the progress I have made in it is not the least pleasure I have received during my stay in the _Argonauta_. It is a language extremely difficult to understand when spoken, but easy to read, & very fine. I can already understand an easy book. If I can add Spanish & Italian, or some knowledge of those languages, to my stock, I shall consider my time and money as well spent, independent of the Countries I shall have seen. Before I close this letter, which you will receive long after its original date, I must tell you I have been making a most interesting visit to the celebrated Lady of Mont Serrat,[11] & was even permitted to kiss her hand, an honour which few, unless well recommended, enjoy. I have not time to say so much of it as I could, I can only assure you that it fully answered the expectations I had raised. The singular Scenery and the more singular Customs of its solitary inhabitants, excepting the monks of the convent, who lead a most merry, sociable life, are well worth the trouble of going some distance to visit. The formation of the mountain is also very extraordinary. Entirely pudding stone, chiefly calcarious, some small parts of quartz, red granite, & flint only to be found. I have preserved some pieces for your museum, which I hope will arrive safe in England, as also the small collection of stones which I sent from the Alps.

Yours sincerely, EDWD. STANLEY.

MALAGA, _Jan., 1803_.