Chapter VI: 1746-1748. æt. 35-37 (2)

"We were introduced to-day to the archdukes and archduchesses (who are fine children) and to the empress-dowager. She had seen no company for two months; but, hearing that Englishmen desired to be introduced to her, she immediately received us. You must know that you neither bow nor kneel to emperors and empresses, but curtsy; so that, after we had had a little conversation with her imperial majesty, we were to walk backwards through a very long room, curtsying all the way, and there was very great danger of our falling foul of each other, as well as of tumbling topsy-turvy. She saw the difficulty we were in; and immediately called to us: 'Allez, allez, Messieurs, sans cérémonie; vous n'êtes pas accoutumés a ce mouvement, et le plancher est glissant.' We esteemed ourselves very much obliged to her for this attention, especially my companions, who were desperately afraid of my falling on them and crushing them.

"This court is fine, without being gay; and the company is very accessible, without being very sociable. When we were to be introduced to the emperor and empress, Sir Thomas Robinson gathered us all together into a window, that he might be able to carry us to them at once, when the time should be proper. A lady came up to him, and asked him if these were not his chickens he was gathering under his wings, after which she joined conversation with us; and in a little time asked us, if we had any acquaintance of the ladies of the court, and if we should not be glad to know their names. We replied that she could not do us a greater favour. 'Why, then,' says she, 'I shall tell you, beginning with myself; I am the Countess'--she added her name, which I am sorry to have forgot. We have met with several instances of these agreeable liberties. The women here are many of them handsome; if you ever want toasts, please to name, upon my authority, Mademoiselle Staremberg, or the Countess Palfì.

"The men are ugly and awkward. We have seen all those fierce heroes, whom we have so often read of in gazettes, the Lichtensteins, the Esterhasis, the Colloredos; most of them have red heels to their shoes, and wear very well-dressed toupees.

"I have heard Maly Johnston say she was told that she was very like the empress-queen. Please tell her it is not so. The empress, though not very well shaped, is better than Maly; but she has not so good a face. She looks also as if she were prouder and worse tempered. Apropos, to our friends of Hutton hall, inform them that they have a very near relation at this court, who is a prodigious fine gentleman, and a great fool. His name is Sir James Caldwell.[260:1] He told me his grandmother was a Hume, and that he expected soon to inherit a very fine estate by her, which he was to share with the Johnstones in Scotland. But he says it is only Wynne that has the half, not the ladies, who have no share; so that you'll please tell Sophy that I am off; and give her her liberty, notwithstanding all vows and promises that may have past betwixt us."

"_Vienna, 25th April._

"We set out to-morrow, but go not by the way of Venice, as we at first proposed. This is some mortification to us. We shall go, however, by Milan. This town is very little for a capital, but excessively populous. The houses are very high, the streets very narrow and crooked, so that the many handsome buildings that are here, make not any figure. The suburbs are spacious and open; but, on the whole, I can never believe what they tell us, that there are two hundred thousand inhabitants in it. It is composed entirely of nobility and of lackeys, of soldiers and of priests. Now, I believe you'll allow, that in a town inhabited only by these four sets of people above-mentioned, the empress-queen could not have undertaken a more difficult task, than that which she has magnanimously entered upon, viz. the producing an absolute chastity amongst them. A court of chastity is lately erected here, who send all loose women to the frontiers of Hungary, where they can only debauch Turks and Infidels. I hope you will not pay your taxes with greater grudge, because you hear that her imperial majesty, in whose service they are to be spent, is so great a prude.

"There has been great noise made with us on account of the queen's new palace at Schönbrunn. It is, indeed, a handsome house, but not very great nor richly furnished. She said to the general last night, that not a single soldier had gone to the building, whatever might be said in England, but that she liked better to be tolerably lodged than to have useless diamonds by her; and that she had sold all her crown jewels to enable her to be at that expense. I think, for a sovereign, she is none of the worst in Europe, and one cannot forbear liking her for the spirit with which she looks, and speaks, and acts. But 'tis a pity her ministers have so little sense.

"Prince Eugene's palace in the suburbs is an expensive stately building, but of a very barbarous Gothic taste. He was _more skilled in battering walls than building_, as was said of his friend, the Duke of Marlborough. There is a room in it, where all Prince Eugene's battles were painted: upon which the Portuguese ambassador told him, that the whole house was indeed richly furnished, but that all the kings in Europe could not furnish such a room as that. I have been pretty busy since I came here, and have regretted it the less that there is no very great amusement in this place. No Italian opera; no French comedy; no dancing. I have, however, heard Monticelli, who is the next wonder of the world to Farinelli."

"_Knittelfeldt in Styria, 28th April._

"This is about a hundred and twenty miles from Vienna. The first forty is a fine well-cultivated plain, after which we enter the mountains; and, as we are told, we have three hundred miles more of them before we reach the plains of Lombardy. The way of travelling through a mountainous country is generally very agreeable. We are obliged to trace the course of the rivers, and are always in a pretty valley surrounded by high hills; and have a constant and very quick succession of wild agreeable prospects every quarter of a mile. Through Styria nothing can be more curious than the scenes. In the valleys, which are fertile and finely cultivated, there is at present a full bloom of spring. The hills to a certain height are covered with firs and larch trees, the tops are all shining with snow. You may see a tree white with blossom, and, fifty fathom farther up, the ground white with snow. These hills, as you may imagine, give a great command of water to the valleys, which the industrious inhabitants distribute into every field, and render the whole very fertile. There are many iron mines in the country, and the valleys are upon that account extremely populous. But as much as the country is agreeable in its wildness, as much are the inhabitants savage, and deformed, and monstrous in their appearance. Very many of them have ugly swelled throats; idiots and deaf people swarm in every village; and the general aspect of the people is the most shocking I ever saw. One would think, that as this was the great road, through which all the barbarous nations made their irruptions into the Roman empire, they always left here the refuse of their armies before they entered into the enemy's country, and that from thence the present inhabitants are descended. Their dress is scarce European, as their figure is scarce human.

"There happened, however, a thing to-day, which surprised us all. The empress-queen, regarding this country as a little barbarous, has sent some missionaries of Jesuits to instruct them. They had sermons to-day in the street, under our windows, attended with psalms; and believe me, nothing could be more harmonious, better tuned, or more agreeable than the voices of these savages; and the chorus of a French opera does not sing in better time. You may infer from thence, if you please, that Orpheus did not civilize the savage nations by his music. I know not what progress the Jesuits have made by their eloquence; but it appears to me that religion is not the point in which the Styrians are defective, at least if we may judge by the number of their churches, crucifixes, &c. We shall be detained here some days by Sir Harry Erskine's illness, who is seized with an ague."

"_Clagenfurt in Carinthia, May 4._

"This is a mighty pretty little town, near the Drave. It is the capital of the province, and stands in a tolerable large plain, surrounded with very high hills; and on the other side the Drave we see the savage Mountains of Carniola. You know the Alps join with the Pyrenees, these with the Alps,[264:1] and run all along the north of Turkey in Europe to the Black Sea, and form the longest chain of mountains in the universe.

"The figure of the Carinthians is not much better than that of the Styrians."

"_Trent, 8th of May._

"We are still amongst mountains, and follow the tract of rivers in order to find our way. But the aspect of the people is wonderfully changed on entering the Tyrol. The inhabitants are there as remarkably beautiful as the Styrians are ugly. An air of humanity, and spirit, and health, and plenty, is seen in every face. Yet their country is wilder than Styria, the hills higher, and the valleys narrower and more barren. They are both Germans, subject to the house of Austria; so that it would puzzle a naturalist or politician to find the reason of so great and remarkable a difference. We traced up the Drave to its source: (that river, you know, falls into the Danube, and into the Black Sea.) It ended in a small rivulet, and that in a ditch, and then in a little bog. On the top of the hill (though there was there a well cultivated plain) there was no more appearance of spring than at Christmas. In about half a mile after we had seen the Drave extinguish, we observed a little stripe of water to move. This was the beginning of the Adige, and the rivers that run into the Adriatic. We were now turning toward the south part of the hill, and descended with great rapidity. Our little brook in three or four miles became a considerable river, and every hour's travelling showed us a new aspect of spring; so that in one day we passed through all the gradations of that beautiful season, as we descended lower into the valleys, from its first faint dawn till its full bloom and glory. We are here in Italy; at least the common language of the people is Italian. This town is not remarkable neither for size nor beauty. 'Tis only famous for that wise assembly of philosophers and divines, who established such rational tenets for the belief of mankind."

"_Mantua, 11th of May._

"We are now in classic ground; and I have kissed the earth that produced Virgil, and have admired those fertile plains that he has so finely celebrated.

Perdidit aut quales felices Mantua campos.[265:1]

"You are tired, and so am I, with the descriptions of countries; and therefore shall only say, that nothing can be more singularly beautiful than the plains of Lombardy, nor more beggarly and miserable than this town."

"_Cremona, 12th of May._

"Alas, poor Italy!

Impius haec tam culta novalia miles habebit;
Barbarus has segetes?

The poor inhabitant
Starves, in the midst of Nature's plenty curst;
And in the loaded vineyard dies for thirst.

"The taxes are here exorbitant beyond all bounds. We lie to-morrow at Milan."

"_Turin, June 16th, 1748._

"I wrote you about three weeks ago. This is brought into England by Mr. Bathurst, a nephew of Lord Bathurst, who intended to serve a campaign in our family. We know nothing as yet of the time of our return. But I believe we shall make the tour of Italy and France before we come home. 'Tis thought the general will be sent as public minister to settle Don Philip; so that we shall have seen a great variety of Dutch, German, Italian, Spanish, and French courts in this jaunt.

Qui mores hominum multorum vidit, et urbes.

"I say nothing of Milan, or Turin, or Piedmont: because I shall have time enough to entertain you with accounts of all these. Though you may be little diverted with this long epistle, you ought at least to thank me for the pains I have taken in composing it. I have not yet got my baggage."

Far different was the pomp and circumstance in which the writer of this narrative performed his journey, from the condition in which Goldsmith, four years afterwards, pursued nearly the same route to--

----where the rude Carinthian boor
Against the houseless stranger shuts the door.

And Hume's motions seem to have partaken of the pomp and regularity of his official station; for, even in these familiar letters to his brother, he is all along the secretary of legation; or when he descends from that height, it is but to mount the chair of the scholar and philosopher. There are no escapades. We never hear that he has taken it in his head to diverge from the regular route to see an old castle or a waterfall. Yet he went with an eye for scenery. The Alpine passes excited his admiration, and his description of the banks of the Rhine will be recognised at this day as very accurate--with one material exception. He says nothing of the feudal fortresses perched like the nests of birds of prey, to which their moral resemblance was at least as close as their physical; and thus one of the greatest historians of his age, passes through a country without appearing to have noticed in their true character, this series of prominent marks of a remarkable chapter in the history of Europe. He speaks of them simply as "palaces"--a word not designative of the character of the buildings, or in any way evincing that their historical position had occurred to his mind. But it must be admitted, that later tourists on the Rhine have amply made up for his silence on these matters.

He does not condescend to mention any one of the fine specimens of Gothic architecture which he must have seen--not even that vast and beautiful fragment the cathedral of Cologne. One wonders whether or not he was at the trouble of inquiring, what was that huge mass which he must have seen towering over the city; and if, straying within its gates, and looking on Albert Durer's painted windows, he had curiosity enough to inspect the reliquary of the tomb of the three kings, containing gems so ancient, that they are conjectured to be older than Christianity, and to have been the ornaments of some Pagan shrine, transferred to and historically associated with the pure creed which displaced the barbarous rites of Paganism. This might have at least formed a curious topic for his Natural History of Religion. But on this as on many other subjects, he would sympathize with La Bruyere when he speaks of "L'ordre Gothique, que la barbarie avoit introduit pour les palais et pour les temples;" and his thorough neglect of both the baronial and ecclesiastical architecture of the middle ages, is characteristic of a mind which could find nothing worthy of admiration, in the time which elapsed between the extinction of ancient classical literature, and the rise of the arts and sciences in modern Europe.

But upon scarcely any subject does Hume converse as a brother travelling into foreign lands might be supposed to address a brother residing at home, and cultivating his ancestral acres. We should expect to find him observing that this river is like the Tweed, or unlike it--larger or smaller; or comparing some range of hills with the Cheviots: but he is general and undomestic in all his remarks, save the one observation that the Rhine is as broad as from his brother's house to the opposite side of the river.

Until he comes to the land of Virgil, where he shows real enthusiasm, the chief object of his interest and observation appears to have been the warlike operations in the midst of which he found himself. The mission must have been attended with the ordinary dangers of a military enterprise. It was undertaken at a time when all Europe was at war, and though decisive battles were not taking place, petty conflicts and surprises were of perpetual occurrence until the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, a few months afterwards, restored repose to the exhausted nations. Yet we find no symptoms of anxiety in the mind of the philosophical actor of the military character. His tone is generally that of a private traveller in a peaceful country, rather than that of a member of an expedition armed for defence, and likely to be called on to defend itself. When he mentions warlike operations, he adopts the tone of a historical critic, and never that of a person who may find his personal safety or comfort compromised by them.

Though he seems to have set out with the too general notion that military affairs are the main object of attention to the man who is desirous of distinction in historical literature, we find already dawning on him the historian's nobler duty as a delineator of the state of society, and an inquirer into the causes of the happiness or misery of the people. And his observations are made with a wide and generous benevolence, strikingly at contrast with those prevailing doctrines of his day, which sought, in the success and happiness of one country, the elements of the misery of another, and made the good fortune of our neighbours a source of lamentation, as indicating calamity to ourselves. His unaffected declaration of pleasure, in finding the Germans so happy and comfortable a people, marks a heart full of genuine kindness and benevolence, and will more than atone for the want of a disposition to range through alpine scenery, or a taste to appreciate the beauties of Gothic architecture.

It will be seen that Hume had intended to continue his journal, but no farther trace of it has been found. The results of the mission have not been generally noticed by historians. Its objects were of a subordinate nature, and the occasion for attending to them was obviated by the completion of the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle on 7th October.

Meanwhile, of Hume's residence in Turin, we have some notices by an able observer, Lord Charlemont, the celebrated Irish political leader, who, then in his twentieth year, was following the practice of the higher aristocracy of his age, and endeavouring to enlarge his mind by foreign travel. In the following probably exaggerated description it will be seen that he was far mistaken in his estimate of Hume's age.

"With this extraordinary man I was intimately acquainted. He had kindly distinguished me from among a number of young men, who were then at the academy, and appeared so warmly attached to me, that it was apparent he not only intended to honour me with his friendship, but to bestow on me what was, in his opinion, the first of all favours and benefits, by making me his convert and disciple.

"Nature, I believe, never formed any man more unlike his real character than David Hume. The powers of physiognomy were baffled by his countenance; neither could the most skilful in that science, pretend to discover the smallest trace of the faculties of his mind, in the unmeaning features of his visage. His face was broad and fat, his mouth wide, and without any other expression than that of imbecility. His eyes vacant and spiritless, and the corpulence of his whole person, was far better fitted to communicate the idea of a turtle-eating alderman, than of a refined philosopher. His speech in English was rendered ridiculous by the broadest Scotch accent, and his French was, if possible, still more laughable; so that wisdom most certainly never disguised herself before in so uncouth a garb. Though now near fifty years old, he was healthy and strong; but his health and strength, far from being advantageous to his figure, instead of manly comeliness, had only the appearance of rusticity. His wearing an uniform added greatly to his natural awkwardness, for he wore it like a grocer of the trained bands. Sinclair was a lieutenant-general, and was sent to the courts of Vienna and Turin, as a military envoy, to see that their quota of troops was furnished by the Austrians and Piedmontese. It was therefore thought necessary that his secretary should appear to be an officer, and Hume was accordingly disguised in scarlet."[271:1]

FOOTNOTES:

[225:1] MS. R.S.E.

[226:1] Obliterated.

[227:1] Letter to Mr. Morritt, dated Abbotsford, 2d October, 1815. Lockhart's Life. The letter continues: "Would it not be a good quiz to advertise _The Poetical Works of David Hume_, with notes, critical, historical, and so forth, with a historical inquiry into the use of eggs for breakfast; a physical discussion on the causes of their being addled; a history of the English Church music, and of the choir of Carlisle in particular; a full account of the affair of 1745, with the trials, last speeches, and so forth, of the poor _plaids_ who were strapped up at Carlisle; and lastly, a full and particular description of Corby, with the genealogy of every family who ever possessed it? I think, even without more than the usual waste of margin, the poems of David would make a decent twelve shilling touch."

[227:2] For instance, there is preserved in his handwriting a very neat transcript of the sweet and sad "Ode to Indifference," by Mrs. Greville, copied, probably at a time when something in its tone of plaintive imagination was attuned to his own feelings, and called up in him a response to the complaint.

Nor ease nor peace that heart can know,
That, like the needle true,
Turns at the touch of joy or wo,
But turning trembles too.

And a desire to join in that prayer that the senses may be steeped in indifference, in which the poet says,

The tears which pity taught to flow,
My eyes shall then disown,
The heart, that throbb'd at others' wo,
Shall then scarce feel its own.

The wounds that now each moment bleed,
Each moment then shall close,
And tranquil days shall still succeed,
To nights of soft repose.

Oh fairy elf, but grant me this--
This one kind comfort send;
And so may never-fading bliss
Thy flowery paths attend.

So may the glow-worm's glimmering light
Thy fairy footsteps lead
To some new region of delight,
Unknown to mortal tread.

And be thy acorn goblet fill'd
With heaven's ambrosial dew;
Sweetest, freshest flowers distill'd,
That shed fresh sweets for you.

And what of life remains for me,
I'll pass in sober ease--
Half-pleased, contented will I be,
Content--but half to please.

[228:1] MSS. R.S.E. The third piece _appears_ to be in Hume's hand; but it is written with so much schoolboy stiffness, that one cannot feel sure of its being so: perhaps it may be a production of very early life.

[232:1] See p. 144.

[233:1] MS. R.S.E. Probably James Crawford of Auchinames.

[234:1] Macgibbon was the name of a dissipated musical composer.

[235:1] Probably Philip Mercier, portrait painter, who died 1760.

[238:1] The marriage took place accordingly on the day following the date of the letter, viz. 30th January. She was the second wife of Lord Marchmont; his first countess, whose name was Western, having died on 9th May of the previous year.

[238:2] Memorials of the Right Hon. James Oswald, p. 59.

[239:1] Tytler's Life of Kames, i. 128.

[240:1] MS. R.S.E.

[242:1] The Duke of Cumberland.

[242:2] The revolution by which the Stadtholdership was re-established in the Prince of Orange, had taken place during the previous year.

[246:1] The French, under Lowendahl, had taken Bergen by storm on the 5th September, 1747.

[252:1] This celebrated battle took place nearly five years before Hume's visit to the field. It was fought on 26th June, 1743.

[254:1] The "we," must now be held no more to apply to our army, as it has heretofore done, in reference to the battle, but to General St. Clair's party.

[255:1] The Pegnitz.

[257:1] Sir Thomas Robinson, whose name has dropped out of recollection in the ordinary biographical dictionaries, but is still familiar to the readers of the history of the period, was for some time ambassador at Vienna, and was plenipotentiary from Britain at the treaty of Aix La Chapelle in 1748. In 1754 he became secretary of state for a few months. In 1761 he was raised to the peerage by the title of Baron Grantham. "Sir Thomas," says Walpole, "had been bred in German courts, and was rather restored than naturalized to the genius of that country; he had German honour, loved German politics, and could explain himself as little as if he spoke only German."--Memoires of George III. 337. According to the same authority, he was subjected, on account of his name, to an identification with Robinson Crusoe, something like that with which Madame Talleyrand honoured Denon, owing to the accident of his being a great traveller whose name ended in "on."

Sir T. Robinson was a tall uncouth man, and his stature was often rendered still more remarkable by his hunting dress, a postilion's cap, a tight green jacket, and buckskin breeches. He was liable to sudden whims; and once set off on a sudden, in his hunting suit, to visit his sister, who was married and settled at Paris. He arrived while there was a large company at dinner. The servant announced Mr. Robinson, and he came in, to the great amazement of the guests. Among others a French abbé thrice lifted his fork to his mouth, and thrice laid it down, with an eager stare of surprise. Unable to restrain his curiosity any longer, he burst out with, "Excuse me, sir; are you the famous Robinson Crusoe so remarkable in history."--Walpoliana.

[260:1] An Irish baronet, grandson of Sir James Caldwell who was created a baronet in 1683, and distinguished himself in the service of William III. during the Irish revolutionary wars. The person commemorated in so flattering a manner by Hume, rose to considerable rank in the service of the empress, and was enabled to introduce to that service a brother, who obtained in it far more distinction, and who, in connexion with the relationship mentioned above, was called Hume Caldwell. He seems to have been strongly endowed with the mercurial disposition of his countrymen. On his first introduction to the service, he "took expensive lodgings, kept a chariot, a running footman, and a hussar, and was admitted into the highest circles;" the natural result of which was, that, on preparing to join his regiment, when he paid his debts, he found that he had just two gold ducats left; whereupon, as his biographer pathetically narrates, "the companion of princes, the friend of Count Conigsegg, the possessor of a splendid hotel and a gilt chariot, who had kept a hussar and an opera girl, figured at court, and had an audience of the empress, and was possessed of a letter of credit for £1000, set out from Vienna alone, on foot, in a mean habit, and with an empty pocket, for that army in which he was to rise by his merit to a distinguished command." His subsequent history is a little romance. Mr. Hume Caldwell, being lost sight of by the great world, is searched for hither and thither, and at length an Irish private soldier being questioned about the matter, turns out to be Caldwell himself, who is immediately restored to his proper station.--Ryan's Worthies of Ireland.

[264:1] Sic in MS. Perhaps he meant to allude to the junction with the Carpathians through the Bohemian ranges.

[265:1] Et qualem infelix amisit Mantua campum. Georg. ii. 198?

[271:1] Memoirs of the Political and Private Life of James Caulfield, Earl of Charlemont, by Francis Hardy, p. 8.