Chapter V: Part 5

I dined at Ld. Elgin’s. Just as the dinner ended Ld. Malmesbury returned from Ath with Lord Herbert.[112] I went and passed the evening in Ld. M.’s apartments; I wrote by a messenger just going off. It was odd enough that Ld. Herbert sat _tête-à-tête_ with me from 8 to 12. He joined with me in lamenting the Duke’s unpopularity, which he ascribes partly to his ungracious manners, and partly to the bad character of many who are about him. He is the first man I have yet seen who seems to speak with candour about French armies, neither with extravagant praise or censure: that they may be hated is fair, but no military man can despise them.

_Sunday._--Wrote letters home and saw company; dined at the Cholmondeleys--very dull. Saw Prince Coburg at the play--a heavy hero. Supped at Mde. de Balbi’s.

_Monday._--Left Bruxelles. Slept the first night at St. Trond. Ld. Darnley passed through and left me a letter from T. P.: there is no official news of Lord Howe’s successes. The _pavé_ is intolerably rough; I could not hold a book to read in the carriage.

_Saturday, 14th, Remagen._--Set off at 8 o’clock. Six hundred Carmagnol prisoners had slept in the town, and quitted it about the time we did. I never beheld more miserable objects; many of them were boys of fifteen and sixteen years old, crying from cold and nakedness, walking upon the hard flints barefooted; others, sick and wounded, were huddled upon each other in small carts. I tried to convey them some money, but the _impitoyable_ Austrian corporal took all for himself. Reached Coblentz to dine; uncommonly well lodged at the Hôtel de Trèves. This place, which was enlivened a year ago by the residence of the Prince and all Versailles, is now tranquil, even to dulness. The situation of the town is pretty, and the fortress of Ebrenstein[113] is finely placed.

[Sidenote: A GERMAN ROAD]

_15th._--My early exertions seldom succeed: I was up in time to rouse the lark. It was scarcely light when we got into the carriages, but by the laziness of the people at the _pont volant_ we did not leave the city until 9 o’clock. Unfortunately, in quitting the town we took the road to Nassau. I verily believe since the Creation no four-wheeled carriage ever went upon such a road, unless Pluto conveyed his reluctant bride in his infernal car, for it seems to lead to his dominions only. The country is ugly; the want of population, so unlike every other part of Germany, is remarkable. Since I saw the Sussex downs I have seen nothing more disconsolate. Upon a bare hill an immense flock of sheep were feeding; they relieved the eye from the hopeless sterility around. The breed of sheep is remarkably small; they are even less than those in Wales, and it equals the Welsh mutton in flavour. After many hairbreadth escapes we at length re-entered the habitations of men: we descended a very steep hill upon a narrow road, which was very slippery nor had it the protection of a _garde-fou_, till we came to a smart little town, charmingly situated upon the Lahn and surrounded by fantastically shaped hills covered to the summit either with vines, or what in summer must form thick foliage.

Just entering Nassau there are ruins of two such picturesque castles! How I longed for a pencil to sketch their mouldering walls ere the rude blast of winter shall destroy their antique forms! Perhaps they may have been the residence of a haughty baron with a proud line of ancestry enough to make Dan Prior say:--

Can Bourbon or Nassau go higher?

But, alas! with the heroes he commemorates they are gone by. Their ruined walls scarcely afford a shelter to a wretched goatherd and his shaggy flock.

The night of the 15th was spent at Neustadt, and from
thence the road lay by Schwalbach to Mayence.

_17th._--We determined to go on to Mannheim without resting, but I believe the lot of rash determinations is to be controverted, for before we reached Oppenheim, ye first post, the spring of my carriage snapped, and I bumped into the town in that _delabré’d_ state. That place is now the _Quartier-Général_ of some Prussian officer. There are stores in abundance, and a bridge of pontoons across the river for the facility of transporting the troops. We tied up the springs and got to Worms.

_18th._--Reached Mannheim early in the day. The fortifications are put in the most trim state, the embrasures cut sharp and neat, the walls new-faced, and the ditches filled. The prettiest toy in grown life is the whole apparatus of military preparations, and I am not astonished at all young sovereigns liking war. If they have any sense, the evil is soon manifested, and they get cured by it. The Palatines have made an alteration in their dress: the _crinières_ to the helmets were formerly white, but at the siege of Mayence when they worked in the trenches at night the white betrayed them to the enemy. Sir Benjamin[114] has certainly adopted many saving schemes in his system, but he has dressed the Bavarian officers like paupers.

_19th._--So fatigued from the roughness of the roads that I lay down till dinner. The news from Toulon (if true) is very bad. The French beat the allies in a sortie, killed many English, and made prisoners of General O’Hara[115] and the Spanish Lieut.-Colonel. Poor O’Hara will end his merry life under the guillotine, as the _savages_ will retaliate upon him the murder of one of the deputies from the Convention or army commissioner taken in Toulon. Ld. Moira and the emigrants are waiting at Jersey. It is yet a secret where the descent is to be made in France. People are grumbling at Ld. Howe’s inactivity. The garrison of Landau, so far from intending to capitulate, replied to the summons, “Que les Français ne cèdent jamais.”

Met Mr. Nott, whom I formerly knew in Switzerland. He came with an Irish Lord Longford; they are going to pass the winter at Neufchâtel.

_Brucksal, 21st._--The roads extremely bad from Heidelberg. It was merely perverseness that made us come on them, for we knew the road to Heilbronn to be good.

[Sidenote: THE ARMY OF CONDE]

_22nd._--Met 800 Austrians, fine strong men, though rather, for Germans, undersized. The interesting and brave little army of Condé have done wonders, but they are compelled to go into winter cantonments. Three hundred gentlemen fell in the course of two months, and nine out of one family are wounded. The Duc de Bourbon distinguished himself, and his son, the Duc d’Enghien, proved himself a worthy descendant of the _grand_ Condé. Alas, what strange vicissitudes in their fortunes! Reached the post before Stuttgart early.

_23rd._--Detained at Stuttgart: the horses were all employed with the army. The Duke of Würtemberg died since I was last here. His successor[116] is wrangling with his excellent widow about jewels, etc. The late Duke’s life would, if it were written, make an extraordinary romance. His amours were numerous, and to make them notorious he made the ladies who had received his _homage_ appear at his Court in _blue shoes_. Mr. Stuart read me some letters he has received from France. The situation of the English at Nancy is quite deplorable. They were much frightened about a month ago; there was an alarm about the French; the inhabitants ran off. The finest old hock might have been purchased for four florins a bottle.

_23rd._--Left Stuttgart with the intention of reaching Ulm at night; rather an arduous undertaking in December, without a moon, and the distance of four and a half _German_ posts. We travelled on prosperously until eleven o’clock, when I proposed stopping, as I suffered much pain from my chest in consequence of a blow, and it was sore from a blister Farquhar had put on. But the fates were adverse and such good fortune as _rest_ was not my lot. Even though we could not get post-horses, we set off with those belonging to some peasants, poor wretched animals exhausted by the labour of the day; it was really cruel to drag them out of their wretched shed, but it was as hard almost upon me. The consequence was that they could hardly get on; those to the servants’ carriage fell from weakness every five yards. At the top of a bleak hill _l’essieu_ of our chaise, from a violent jolt, was broken. All hopes of advancing were useless, so we adopted the only method of getting on: we got into the servants’ carriage and left Josephe with the broken vehicle, and got on with the other as well as we could to Ulm. A smart frost came on, and the road, which was before soft mud, became a hard incrustation of ice. Got to Ulm at seven in the morning.

The twenty-fourth of December I passed in my bed; as I only got into it at eight o’clock in the morning, I thought myself entitled to a full twenty hours’ repose.

From Ulm they took the road to Memmingen, which they
reached on the evening of the 25th.

A very neat, pretty town; the inhabitants are free and rich. The _aubergiste_ had lived seven years at Lyons. With tears in his eyes he said upwards of forty of his friends had been guillotined.

[Sidenote: KEMPTEN]

The next night was passed at Kempten.

The town is odd and pretty, and I have a fancy that it resembles the German towns in America and other colonies. Enclosures for cattle between the houses like early settlers, and an air of frugality and neatness throughout the whole. The houses in the neighbourhood are very Swiss-like, being chiefly constructed of wood, with shingle roofs, on which large stones are laid to prevent their being carried off by high winds. So much wood grows in the country that the inhabitants employ it in building their cottages and fencing their enclosures. The Bishop is a Prince of the Empire, and assists at the Diet of Ratisbon. Flax grows in the neighbourhood, and linen is manufactured. Much of what the soil produces must be consumed by the inhabitants, as they have no navigable rivers to transport their productions to a distance. Perhaps they are happier without the facility of intercourse; for commerce introduces luxuries, and they again create new wants, which to supply commerce must be extended, and the love of gain soon destroys the love of ease. This goes to the destruction of morality and that charming simplicity of manners.

Passing Füssen, they entered the Tyrol, and reached
Innspruck on the 28th.

I have been very negligent in my journal; the intense cold benumbed my faculties in the Tyrol. I was much shocked at Roveredo by hearing rather suddenly of the death of the Duchesse de Polignac. She fell a victim to her attachment to the Queen. Even her rivals--for enemies she had none--admitted that her affection was most disinterested; that she loved the person, not the dignity, of her unhappy friend. The death of the King threw her into violent convulsions that brought her into such a state of debility that three attempts to quit Vienna were ineffectual. The murder of the Queen filled up the measure of her grief: she sank under it, and only languished in horrible sorrow a short time. She expired in the arms of Vaudreuil. At Vienna when I saw her she gave me the idea of a person labouring under the weight of woe, which she struggled to conceal that she might spare her friends the anguish of seeing she suffered. She was lovely, features and countenance perfect, figure short and not light; her manner simple and serious, character rather grave. The brilliant situation her intimacy with the Queen put her into was always repugnant to her inclinations, and she oftentimes, and with sincerity, regretted that the difference of rank prevented her the enjoyment of retired, unsuspected, and unenvied friendship.

Upon the road we heard rumours of the capture of Toulon, but I could not and would not credit them. However, at Trent it was confirmed with many particulars. At Verona we found Ld. and Ly. Henry Fitzgerald;[117] she was suddenly brought to bed there.

Hervey passed us in the night on his return; he carried back with him the dispatches relating to the loss of Toulon. On the 18th the French made a general attack; the outposts were abandoned, and the allies forced to fly. In the evacuation 8000 of the inhabitants were saved and conveyed to the combined fleets. Previous to their quitting the town a train was laid to blow up the ships of war; many were destroyed, but still many remain.

[Sidenote: CAPTURE OF TOULON]

Just beyond Mantua we met three English officers who had been at Toulon, Messrs. Mathews, Wemyss, and Featherstone; they complained (as all English officers do) of hard duty and bad commanders. They said, what was likely to be true, that the retreat was ill-conducted, and that not a fifth part of what might have been destroyed has perished. O’Hara was taken prisoner from his own inactivity and despondency. He was deceived in his expectations: everything at Toulon was represented in the most favourable light--the valour, zeal, and unanimity of the allies, the strength and excellence of the British forces, the loyalty of the natives, etc. But how different was the truth! The allies all quarrelling; the British army (if such a word is not a satire upon a few hundreds) brave but refractory and headstrong, as they all are when they have arms in their hands; the inhabitants so disaffected that at every sortie great care was taken to prevent their shutting out the allies whenever the Carmagnols gained an advantage; the peasantry equal Republican; nor did the allies possess an inch beyond the glacis of the town.

_Florence, 10th January._--On the 8th of January I arrived here, and found to my supreme delight both my dear children perfectly well. Webby surprisingly improved. The baby is as perfect a _lazzarone_ as the Chiaia ever produced: in the first place, he has the appetite and digestion of a Neapolitan. He is a nice child, but far from pretty. I found no less than five letters cautioning me strongly against going to Naples with the baby, as there rages in the town a malignant species of smallpox, to which 7000 infants have fallen victims, and amongst them poor Lady Plymouth’s infant.

In consequence of these warnings I have determined upon performing the operation of inoculation here, and Dr. Gianetti did it this morning. The consciousness of being under the same roof with my dear children gives me a sort of tranquil delight, that my mind and spirits are quite calm: I even feel happy. The siege of Landau is raised. The French are successful everywhere, and will not be conquered by our vain taunts and boasts; they verify what they say of themselves: ‘Que la France ne sera jamais domptée, que par la France.’ This opinion is in the first page of my political creed, hence I was sanguine when I heard they had raised the standard of counter-revolution _themselves_.

The alarm here is very great; in the same proportion as that increases so does hatred and contempt for the English, whom they justly accuse of having compelled them to break their neutrality, and then promised support.[118] Manfredini told me that England will cause the ruin of Italy, whereas _he_ could have saved it by temporising measures.

_14th January, Florence._--The accounts from Paris make one shudder. The guillotine is active, and hundreds daily perish by that horrible machine of death. It is reported that a body of 25,000 men are advancing to meet Lord Moira. In consequence of this intelligence, the transports that came into Portsmouth are to sail immediately, and the officers have received orders to re-embark. The army that had taken possession of Noirmoutier have landed on the Continent and are marching up the south side of the Loire. Prince Coburg is marching towards Landrecies and Maubeuge to keep the army of the north in check.

[Sidenote: DISSENSIONS AMONG ALLIES]

Pondicherry is besieged and soon will fall into the hands of the English.[119] No official account from the West Indies since the first landing at St. Domingo.[120] It is said that the Spanish proclamation is totally different from ours, in which they offer to take the island for Louis XVII. The jealousy between the English and Spaniards at Toulon was glaring, and violent enough to impede the success of any undertaking that required mutual exertions. As far as my feeble judgment carries me, I do not think the allies are taking the most effectual means to obtain their object. The want of vigour and consistency in our Ministry forces an opinion of their feebleness upon the princes, and must make them distrust their intentions. The declarations at St. Domingo and at Toulon are certainly very different, and I hear that Lord Moira’s is different from either. He declares in favour of monarchy, professing not to interfere in internal arrangements, at the same time disclaiming that monarchy which was established by that ‘_Risible Constitution_’ in 1789. Why call _that_ constitution _risible_ which Lord Hood made in some measure the ground of a negotiation at Toulon? This declaration Lord Moira read at dinner at Portsmouth, together with a declaration from the British Army to their _confrères d’armes_ in Brittany.

The inoculation has not taken effect, therefore the poor baby is again to undergo the operation. He is too pure to be corrupted.

_Sunday, 19th January._--Ld. Hervey lives a good deal with me. He seems to dislike his recall, and talks of going again into the Navy, where, by-the-bye, he is very unpopular. W. Wyndham’s appointment is not much relished, as the Court want a steady, reasonable man, disposed to soothe matters, and, God knows, poor W. is not capable of filling that post.

Ld. H. implies his love for Ly. B. I shut my ears, as I abhor those sort of confidences.

_24th January._--Caught a violent cold, which confined me to my bed several days.

_3rd February._--Henry has passed through the smallpox very prosperously. The Austrians have been forced to abandon Fort St. Louis, which they took in conjunction with the Prussians last November. In less than eight days the French have regained the whole extent of territory the allies fought for inch by inch for this whole campaign.

Pondicherry has surrendered, and shortly the French flag will not fly in India. These distant successes alter very little the public opinion. Great alarms are entertained about Flanders; the Carmagnols are gathered in a point ready to invade it again.

[Sidenote: LORD HOLLAND]

Ld. G. Leveson-Gower[121] and Ld. Holland came here the day before yesterday. The first I knew at Dresden. He is remarkably handsome and winning; a year or two ago he created a great sensation at Paris, when Ly. Sutherland introduced him as her _beau beaufrère_; she also initiated him in the orgies of gambling, an acquisition he has maintained. _Les mauvaises langues de Paris_ said she was in love with him; but that was a calumny. Ld. H. is not in the least handsome; he has, on the contrary, many personal defects, but his pleasingness of manner and liveliness of conversation get over them speedily. He is just returned from Spain, and his complexion partakes of the _Moresco_ hue. He is now in better health. He has a very complex disorder, called an ossification of the muscles in his left leg. Fontana says it is a malady of which there are many instances in the brute as well as the human race. It arises from the calcareous and phosphoric matter, designed for the formation of the bones, being deposited on the flesh and muscles. The original cause of the malady is unknown, but it is probably from the weakness of the vessels destined to secrete this substance from the blood. When the ossification becomes general it is, of course, fatal. There are instances of the brain being indurated. A dissolution of the bones is likewise a very dreadful thing. La Condamine died of it.

They dined with us, as did Capt. Montgomery, a natural son of Ld. Pembroke’s. We all went to the Cocomero, and returned here to supper. Ld. H. quite delightful; his gaiety beyond anything I ever knew; full of good stories. He seems bent upon politics, and, with his eagerness, I think it is lucky he is out of the way of saying foolish, violent things.

_5th._--I went this morning to the Cabinet Physique with Fontana. He showed me the details of his astonishing _homme de bois_. It is composed of 3000 pieces of wood that take off from the surface; beneath there are a variety of others which mark the veins, arteries, etc. In all there are 250,000 different pieces of wood.[122] Prince Louis d’Arenberg passed the evening with me; he is very amusing.

_6th._--An order is published this day that expels all the French domiciliated here who have arrived since the 15th January, 1793. The pretext is a scarcity of corn, the price of which has been considerably augmented since the great exportation to France last year. Fontana dined with us; he tired me so much upon French politics that I quitted the room from downright _ennui_. In the evening Ld. Hervey brought Sir G. Elliot; they are just come from Leghorn. Sir G. was shipwrecked in sight of port, but assistance was so near that no danger ensued.[123] He was on his return to Toulon. He is trying to obtain from this Government a permission to allow the poor Toulonese emigrants to reside here.

_12th Feb._--The Toulonese are permitted to reside in Tuscany. The King’s speech is very warlike, though nothing declaratory about the restoration of monarchy in France. The Duke of Portland supports the war most strenuously. Mr. Windham withholds himself from office, much as his friends urge him to accept a post that he may share the responsibility of measures which he promotes and supports. This is the stale plea of those who accept places and profess disinterestedness. Windham, Tom Grenville, and Pelham, when I left England, called themselves the _Virtuous Triumvirate_, and determined not to take office, from the idea that they could more effectually serve the Government by convincing the public that they quitted Opposition merely from a conviction of the wisdom of maintaining the measures of Administration than from the inducement of holding a place.

_14th._--Surprise and embarrassment have completely overset me. Oh! what vile animals men are, with headstrong passions. Now! I have heard from the lips of one who affects morality and domestic virtues maxims that would revolt all but the most depraved. ‘Pécher en _secret_, n’est point pécher.’ I told him it savoured of his Jesuitical education. His justification was that a singular combination of events arose to create a passion, where, in truth, so little could be expected in return. His long absence from home, perfect seclusion, and the strong impression of delight at meeting a countrywoman who brought back the remembrance of past scenes--this complicated feeling made him deck the object who revived the recollection in glowing colours, and in him created a violent and, I hope, a transitory alienation from sense and propriety. Distress, awkwardness, and good-nature united made me act like a fool, but I was obliged to be peremptory latterly, as he proceeded to downright violence. One night coming from the Pergola I was compelled to get out of the carriage to avoid his pressing importunities. However, his last words were, ‘Be _kind and discreet_.’ He is in great alarm at his wife’s knowing this _écart_, as he affects great conjugal felicity.

[Sidenote: THE RETREAT FROM TOULON]

According to Sir G. Elliot’s account the retreat from Toulon must have abounded with affecting situations of distress and wretchedness. In the midst of the conflagration of the ships in the harbour, houses, magazines, etc., three small boats heavily laden with women and infants approached the _Victory_ (Admiral Ld. Hood’s ship), near which they tossed up and down in speechless agony, not daring to ask the relief which they needed so much, but expressing their entreaties with uplifted hands and deep groans. What anguish! A merciless enemy behind, a vast expanse of dreary sea before, and not a friendly shore to land upon. Although the ship was already filled by hundreds of refugees, yet Sir Gilbert persuaded Ld. Hood to admit these. He landed at Corsica, which he describes as being in a curious situation, unlike any country in civilised Europe. The whole country up in arms, without discipline or officers, yet alert and obedient. Paoli is their chief, who without possessing any superior abilities has the talent of conciliating and governing the people. His word is a decree, his power patriarchal, a compound of sovereign and parental authority. The natives have offered to put themselves under the protection of England, and Sir G. is occupied in promoting this, as he wants to be made Governor. They offer to expel the French if they can gain assistance. They are a hardy, bold, and intrepid race, every Corsican esteeming himself equal to his companions. This notion gives them a bold freedom, especially when political affairs are discussed, when they look upon themselves as entitled to be auditors at least.

I have again heard ----’s last words, ‘I love you, for my passions are stronger than my reason: your being good, gentle, and handsome justify me: for the sake of others be discreet.’ I will indeed! Rochefoucauld lay upon my table: he opened it at the 514th maxim, which he observed was fallacious, and gave himself as a contradictory proof, ‘On passe souvent de l’amour à l’ambition; mais on ne revient guère de l’ambition à l’amour.’

On February 15, 1794, the Websters left Florence on their
way to Rome, taking the road which passes Siena and Lake
Bolsena. After a stay of two days at Rome, they left on the
22nd for Naples.

[Sidenote: LORD HOLLAND]

_Florence, June 10th._--Reached Naples on the 26th February. Lodged at Severino’s. For the whole six or seven weeks I passed in that lovely spot I had not activity enough to occupy myself in any way but in lounging and talking. Ly. Bessborough and Ly. Spencer were there. A numerous band of young Englishmen from college; gambling and gallantry filled up the evenings and mornings. My favourite, Ld. G. Leveson-Gower, used often to come to me in the evening, as I sat at home a good deal on account of my _grossesse_ and disliking the card parties. His companion, Ld. Holland, is quite delightful. He is eager without rashness, well bred without ceremony. His disposition and turn of mind are reckoned very like his uncle, Mr. Fox: his manner resembles his maternal uncle, Colonel Fitzpatrick. His politics are warm in favour of the Revolution, and his principles are strongly tinctured with democracy. It is the brilliant side, and apparently the honest one; all young men are hit by it at first, but when they see more of the world they cure of their honesty and love of liberty. But he would lament with all the reasonable men should revolutionary doctrines obtain in England, as he thinks the actual form of government the best suited to the country. Though so zealous, he is totally without any party rancour; in short, he is exactly what all must like, esteem, and admire. His spirits are sometimes too boisterous, and may occasionally overpower one, but he is good-humoured enough to endure a reproof.

His bosom friend, Mr. Beauclerk,[124] is far from resembling him in any one amiable point of view: he is silent and sulky, and when he opens it is to tease his friend. I am told, however, that he is remarkably sensible, good-humoured, and pleasing to those who know him, but this must be taken upon trust, as he is the counterpart of Lord Burleigh in _The Critic_. He is deeply in love with Ly. B., and abhors Ld. Granville, who is his rival. I understand that I am odious to him; _je me venge_ in feeling as much against him as he possibly can towards me. Mr. Marsh[125] is very sensible; he is one of the very few _rational_ beings I met with. I carried him to Italinski one day, who was mightily pleased with his scholarship and conversation: he also lived much with me. Ld. Morpeth improves the more he is known; I always liked him.

I never saw Lady Ann Hatton before, and to my surprise found her in company with Ly. Plymouth, who is the great retailer of anecdotes against this slippery Hibernian, and whom she declared against receiving. Her face is not regularly handsome, her figure enchanting, an airy nymphlike form as youthful as a Hebe. She is, however, past thirty considerably. Her sister, Ly. E. Monck, is divinely beautiful; her head is angelic.

Ld. Digby[126] fell in love with Ly. Bruce, who only coquets with him. He is good-humoured, and full of good useful sense. There was a bad lot of drinking Irish, with Ld. Tyrone and Mr. Jefferies at their head, but I knew little of them. Mr. Brand continues his _belle amitié_ for me, rather sentimentally tiresome when he gets upon that topic. Italinski as usual. Drew delighted to see me. He is discontented with the Bessboroughs. Ld. Berwick behaved shockingly to poor Ly. Plymouth: she is very unhappy. He speaks to her and of her with the most disrespectful familiarity. The Hamiltons were as tiresome as ever; he as amorous, she as vulgar.

I made an excursion to Sorrento with Ld. Holland and Italinski: we slept there. I was terrified at crossing the bay. On my return I was foolish enough to get out of the boat on the Portici shore, and return home in a _calecino_.

A book just published by Sir William Hamilton. He got Italinski to correct the English, upon which Mr. North said, ‘He has made the Knight as clear as day.’

Ld. Henry took his seat in Parliament, and made a maiden speech which I hear from other quarters was esteemed very good. He said he was terrified at the silence of the assembly. His friend Canning has decidedly abandoned his patron and friend Sheridan, and is coming into Parliament under the auspices of Mr. Pitt. Ld. H. regrets this precipitation; though he of course likes him to act on his side, yet he thinks the law would have been a more certain friend to him than the favour of a Prime Minister. Wallace[127] has totally failed in speaking, and his principles out-Herod Herod, for the Ministers could not support him in some assertion he made as to the King’s power of landing foreign troops without the consent of Parliament. This heresy to the British Constitution was in consequence of some Hessians landing from the Isle of Wight.

[Sidenote: SOCIETY AT NAPLES]

During my stay at Naples I went, as I was told, at the peril of my life, to see Baron d’Armfeldt, who it seems is pursued by the Regent of Sweden, the Duke of Sudermania. He is accused of having formed a conspiracy to murder him, and obtain the keeping of the minor King’s person. Be this as it may, he has been demanded of the Court of Naples by that of Sweden formally to be delivered up as a fugitive rebel, but the Queen is interested about him, and has him concealed. The Swedish emissaries are active in their search, and have several times fired at him, and once at a person getting out of his carriage, whom they mistook for this supposed delinquent. The accusation is black, but the truth of it uncertain. Ld. Henry laughs at me for calling him ‘The Victim’: he is at Stockholm, and can judge of the story. I passed a pleasant day at Cumæ with the Palmerstons. I took Italinski, Mr. Marsh, and Ld. Holland in my carriage. We were joined by Count Rumford, etc.

At Rome, which I reached early in May, or, I believe, towards the middle of April, I lived in the Villa di Matta, a charming situation upon the Pincian Hill overlooking the city, and commanding a grand view of the distant hills and Campagna. Almost the whole of our Neapolitan set was there, with the exception of Lords Digby, Boringdon, G. Leveson, who for reasons best known to themselves fled the enjoyments of Italy to fulfil some dull, unimportant duties in England, where nothing short of compulsion shall ever drag me.

[Sidenote: ‘SAL VOLATILE’]

We all made an excursion to Tivoli, Bessboroughs, Ld. Grandison, and the young men. I conveyed Ld. Holland, Mr. Marsh, and Beauclerk. We lodged at a nobleman’s villa, took our own provisions and cook, and passed our time with jollity. Lord Bessborough grew very cross, and from a fit of jealousy about Mr. Beauclerk, compelled us all to return to Rome, and disquieted our mirth. We got back late at night. I had seen Tivoli the year before: a charming group of cedars in the garden of the family d’Este. In the course of our evenings Ld. H. resolved to make me admire a poet, of whom I had heard but little, Cowper: he is excellent, and amply repaid the labour of reading many hundred lines in blank verse, many of which are inharmonious. Mr. Marsh used to read to me Murphy’s translation of Tacitus. A sharp fit of gout, brought on by drinking Orvieto wine, did not increase the good temper of my companion; decorum, not inclination, made me keep at home. My evenings were agreeable; _he_, however, did not mar my comfort by partaking of my tranquil society. Went out every morning with Ly. B. Ld. Holland’s delightful spirits cheered us so much that we called him _sal volatile_, and used to spare him to one another for half an hour to enliven when either were melancholy.

I saw the Pope[128] give his benediction to a kneeling and believing multitude. The sight was imposing. He is an excellent actor; Garrick could not have represented the part with more theatrical effect than his present Holiness. I was grievously disappointed at the _Miserere_, the composition of Pergolesi, sung by differently modulated voices in the Sixtine Chapel. The illumination of the great cross inside St. Peter’s was very striking: the effect of the light upon the monumental effigies raised the painful recollection of death, the _sombre_ of the objects and the locality inspired melancholy. We went about to various chapels, where we found many a debauched fair one in the comely attire of matronly humility, expiating in penance and prayer many a dear sin, for the sole purpose of beginning a fresh catalogue of the cherished crimes. I saw occasionally the old Santa Croce, Cardinal Bernis, etc., etc., but Ly. Bessborough, Ld. Holland, Messrs. Marsh, Brand, etc., were those I lived habitually with.

I became very eager to get to Florence, as I received an account from Mrs. Wyndham of her arrival, and her being installed in her diplomatic functions. I parted with regret from Ly. Bessborough, who is to return by Loreto to England. I went the Perugia road to Florence, and arrived late in the night at Florence.

My first impulse was to seek with eagerness my little friend, but to my surprise I found her in a state of despondency that checked my joy. She abhors the prospect of residing here, and looks back with regret to England, and even to Bignor, which, whilst there, she detested. With some difficulty I contrived to make my house tolerably comfortable. It is a palace belonging to the family of Ginori, but not calculated for English habits, as it contains only three fireplaces, and _I_ have not one of the three; my tormentor has one, the nursery and a sitting-room the others. Lord Holland and Mr. Beauclerk passed a few days here on their way to Venice. Ld. H. assured me he came merely to make me a visit. The Palmerstons and Ly. Spencer came for a few days. Sir G. Elliot came over from Corsica to pass a few days.

[Sidenote: LORD WYCOMBE]

On the twelfth of June I was brought to bed of a little girl, christened by Mr. Penrose at Wyndham’s: her name is Harriet Frances.[129] Lady Bessborough, Mrs. Wyndham, and Wyndham were the sponsors. A few days before her christening Ld. Holland returned from Venice; he came to await the arrival of Lord Wycombe,[130] who joined him a few days after. Lord Wycombe is a very eccentric person. For the welfare of himself and family it is to be hoped that his actions are directly opposite to his sentiments; if not, he must be a scourge. Ld. H. tells me that the ladies who live with Ld. Lansdown, Miss Vernon[131] and Miss Fox, call him, ‘A Lovelace without his polish.’ His style of conversation is grand and declamatory, his humour excellent. He is very gallant: he began by making love equally to me and Mrs. Wyndham. We half thought of a project of playing him a trick, and treating him as Mrs. Ford and Mrs. Page did the humorous knight, but Ld. H. said it was playing with an edged tool.

The months of July, August, and September were passed very pleasantly. Early in September I set off on a solitary expedition to see Lucca Baths. I went through the town of Lucca, and arrived at the Baths in time for dinner. I dined with Ly. Rivers: I got up early in the morning, and went in a _portantine_ to see the hills, etc. The Prato Fiorito was too distant for a morning excursion; I went from thence to ----, where I lodged in the house of a Marchese; they gave me a very good supper, good bed, and received me with cordiality. I spoke no Italian, and knew none of the party, which was very numerous; however, I got through the evening tolerably. They must have thought me a strange person, young, pretty, and alone, travelling merely to see the quarries of Carrara! It was perhaps an odd freak.

I dined the next day at Massa. I had a letter to a descendant of the Greek Emperor Paleologus, his name is Paleologo. He is a single man; to avoid a _tête-à-tête_ with a perfect stranger, the visit to whom was whimsical in itself, I admitted my maid _en tiers_. I was in high spirits and very jolly. I went in a _chaise-à-porteurs_ into the quarries at Carrara. They produce the finest marble after that found at Paros. My royal Greek was very careful of me. He escorted me through all difficulties, torrents, chasms, precipices, etc. Upon the whole I expect he took me for an _aventurière_; indeed, he well might, though my suite rather imposed upon him, for I went in my own chaise, my maid with me, and on the seat my cook and a footman, and André was on horseback. I am sure he thought there was something _mysterious_, at least, about me.

I went from Massa to Pisa, where to my surprise I found Lords Wycombe and Holland, and my _farouche_ companion; they had not found a favourable wind to cross to the Isle of Elba, and were on their return to Florence. I walked about Pisa in the morning. It is a beautiful town, and the quay has perhaps the advantage of Florence in beauty. The Campo Santo, the Campanile, and the church are very beautiful. The leaning tower is still a problem among the curious, whether its deviation from the perpendicular was accidental or intentional. Monsieur de la Condamine measured it with a plumb line, and found that when let down from the top it touched the ground at the distance of thirteen feet from the bottom of the tower.

[Sidenote: VALLOMBROSA]

Lord Wycombe read us a sonnet he had just composed; it was very ingeniously written. I went to the famous Vallombrosa, a Benedictine convent, about sixteen miles from Florence. The road for the last six miles is through a thick forest of chestnut; the ascent is steep. The monastery is placed on a verdant lawn round which the mountains form an amphitheatre; the darkest pines surround the whole building, and hanging woods of that tree only decorate the steep sides of the hills. No woman is admitted within the convent walls; I dined at the Mill House close to it. After dinner the _Padre Abate_ and many of the monks came out and joined us. He is a lively, middle-aged man, with apparently little love of devotion and a strong love of pleasure.

In the month of October Lds. Wycombe and Holland went to Rome and Naples; the latter was unwell, and wanted to consult with Dr. Thompson. My tormentor went to Milan and Turin for some months. Mr. Amherst[132] and Mr. Cornewall[133] stayed some time at Florence. The first is a quiet, sedate young man, full of proprieties and all sorts of good things. The latter is good-humoured and weak. Mr. A. fell in love with me and Mrs. W.; he was most in love with the one he saw last. We went to balls, and were very gay. I quitted my house in the Via Maggio, as it was too cold for winter, and took a delicious residence within the walls of the town, but in the midst of gardens called the Mattonaia or Shuileries.[134] The fitting up of the house was magnificent; one room cost four thousand sequins. It was made of rich japan, fine black and gold, and the ornaments were appropriate and superb.

I read as usual a good deal. About that time, _October_, I began to relish the Italian poets, particularly Ariosto. Read the _Pucelle_ in a castrated edition. Voltaire evidently imitates the _Orlando_, especially in the beginning of his cantos; there are some poetical descriptive passages quite good. Targioni gave me a course of experimental chemical lectures.

I rode about the environs of Florence; nothing can be more lovely than the villas. My children lived on Fiesole till about October.

... like the moon, whose orb
Through optic glass the Tuscan artist views
At evening, from the top of Fesolè.[135]

Milton describes Tuscany often, and seems to feel a proper love for it. They told me at Vallombrosa of his having resided several months within their monastery, and of his having written Italian sonnets--bad enough they were, the critics say.

Thick as autumnal leaves that strew the brooks
In Vallombrosa, where the Etrurian shades
High over-arched embow’r ...

Early in November Lords Wycombe and Holland returned from Rome. The latter gave us a great ball on the 21st November (1794), the day he came of age. Ld. Carmarthen and a few other English added novelty to our parties. The Gallery afforded me a constant source of delight, the Tribune, &c. About Christmas Sir G. W. returned from Milan. The masquerading at the Carnival diverted me. In March, Ld. H., on my birthday, wrote the following lines. ‘To a lady at Florence, on her birthday, 1795.’[136]

I went to Vallombrosa alone to pass a day or two. I meant to live in solitude. I lodged at the _hospice_ of the Convent, a building made for the accommodation of travellers, and used as a residence for the sick monks during the rigour of the winter, but the overstrained politeness of the _Padre Abate_ defeated my projects of quiet. He no sooner heard of my arrival than he came from the sequestered cloister, and brought with him six or seven of the Fraternity to keep me company; thus I never had a moment to myself, and was fairly compelled to go to bed at seven o’clock to escape from their civilities.

The French have taken possession of Holland this winter, and compelled the Stadtholder to fly to England with his family.[137] The terror of the Republican arms spreads everywhere.

[Sidenote: MR. VASSALL’S DEATH]

I lost my poor father; a nobler, better man he has not left behind him. Towards me he was always fond and affectionate. His only failings arose from an excess of goodness. He was weak in character, as he idolised my mother and was completely subjected to her dominion. His death puts me into the possession of great wealth, upwards of ten thousand per annum. Detestable gold! What a lure for a villain, and too dearly have I become the victim to him.

My health was alarmingly bad, and I was liable to sudden and frequent losses of blood. Not satisfied with Gianetti’s opinion Mrs. W. wished me to get better advice, and as Dr. Thompson was at Rome I went there to consult him in April.

As I had never seen the Spada Palace I determined upon seeing it, and went with Ly. Plymouth and Amherst. The great ante-camera contains the statue of Pompey, supposed to be the one at the pedestal of which Cæsar fell, a retributive justice admired by superstition. In the gallery, a charming _Guido_, the ‘Rape of Helen,’ beautiful colouring and composition. It represents the moment of her flight from Sparta; Paris is conducting her to the ship. She appears modest and apprehensive; he bold and encouraging. Among the female attendants there are several pretty faces, particularly one with a blue head-dress; also a pretty figure of a Cupid in the corner. A ‘Death of Dido,’ by _Guercino_; the agonies of death upon a lovely face finely rendered. The rest of the picture bad, the sword thrust through the body is pitiful, but the composition was sacrificed to pay this pitiful compliment to the Spada arms.

Returned by the Siena road as I came. My health did not allow me to engage in travelling, and to say the truth I made as much as I could of that pretext, that I might not be forced to return to England, as I enjoyed myself too much here to risk the change of scene. In May Sir G. W. set off to England, as he affixed an importance to his own appearance there that I own I did not strive to convince him against. In June I set off with my children and Gely to Lucca Baths, where I had taken Ly. Bessborough’s former habitation. The situation of the Baths is pretty, but the heat in the middle of the day is intense, and at sunset the cold and damp begin. It certainly is unwholesome, and I am surprised at it being sought as summer residence either upon the score of health or coolness.

_J. Hoppner Pinx. 1793_ _Emery Walker Ph. sc._

_Richard Vassall_]

[Sidenote: QUARREL WITH WYNDHAM]

Soon after I arrived Mrs. Wyndham came to make me a long visit. She left her children at the Villa Careggi in Florence, a villa built by Lorenzo di Medici, and inhabited by him until his death.[138] Mr. Hodges came and resided in my house also. Soon after, Lords Wycombe and Holland came and lived near. They dined and supped with me every day regularly. I went to the illumination at Pisa, a festival in honour of the patron saint of the city. I took up my abode at Wyndham’s at the Baths of Pisa, about two miles from the town. Some trifling dispute happened between us, which was not explained, and we have not yet spoken and perhaps never may. From Pisa Mrs. W., Ld. H. and myself went to Leghorn; we were lodged at Udney’s house, the consul’s. Lady Elliot and family stayed at Lucca Baths. Wyndham came and had a serious _éclat_ with Mrs. W.; she behaved romantically, and what in a novel would be called feelingly delicate, but like a very silly person for her worldly concerns. She is determined to separate and quit him.

In July I set off from Lucca Baths to see Genoa, with Ld. H. and Mr. Hodges. I left Gely with my children and their nurses. Slept the first night at San Marcello, a small village upon the new road to Modena, half-way up the Apennines. The second night at two posts beyond Modena, and the third at Parma. _Correggio’s_ ‘St. Jerome’ struck me this time as far more beautiful than when I first saw it about three years ago. Whether a more intimate acquaintance with the great masters had taught me to appreciate their merits with more judgment, or that I had not given myself much trouble in the examination of this charming production I will not pretend to say, but I beheld it with all the charms of novelty.

The last post to Genoa is beautiful; every step denotes the splendour and riches of that tottering republic. Magnificent villas, ornamental gardens, and thick population, the houses of the meaner class intermingled with the stupendous habitations of a haughty aristocracy, mark strongly the immense difference power and riches have placed between them, they being wretched to an unusual degree of penury, most of them being without the necessary accommodation of windows or glass. The daily reinforcements arriving to the Austrians, the fair, and the arrival of a Spanish flotilla, crowded the town so much that I found it difficult to get a lodging; indeed the hotels were full, and we were obliged to take up our quarters in a kind of _restaurateur’s_, where lodgers never had been. Such a hell! Only two small garrets.

The Strada Balbi and the Strada Nuova are the finest streets in Europe, from the stately palaces on each side and their not being disfigured by any shabby dwellings. The style of architecture is not chaste, but too much crowded with heavy ornaments. The roofs are high and filled with garret windows, much in the taste of those buildings the style of which was introduced into England by William III. The palaces of Genoa are more like what one expects an Italian palace to be than any I have ever seen in other parts of Italy--open corridors, porticoes, arcades, terraces, fountains, orange groves, &c., &c.

The Durazzo Palace unites all these beauties in perfection.... There was a dispute about the genuineness of the famous ‘M. Magdalen,’ by _Paolo Veronese_;[139] the family in consequence bought the other at Venice, and considering their own as the original, keep the other rolled up. In the same street is the Palazzo Balbi, a spacious and grand mansion, evidently declining from its past splendour. Many fine pictures, a catalogue of which would be tedious.

[Sidenote: GENOA]

Genoa is not to be compared with Naples, and is superior to Nice; the _fanal_ has a pretty effect jutting into the sea. I stayed only four days in Genoa, and set off with Mr. Hodges, &c., to go across the Corniche to Sarzana in _portantines_. I lent my carriage to Ld. Holland, who went round by Turin, and was to rejoin me at Lucca Baths.

Mrs. Wyndham joined me in a few days, as did Ld. Holland. Amherst and Cornewall passed a few days at Lucca. Wyndham came over, and the rupture with me was final; he would not make me a visit, but sent to my _maître d’hôtel_ for some dinner, a cavalier mode of proceeding which I would not gratify him in, and he had no dinner, as there was no inn, and provisions were scarce, unless provided beforehand.

The end of August I returned to the Mattonaia. Ld. H. had a set of Maremma ponies, and used every evening to drive me out, either to the Cascines or elsewhere. I went to see the Pratolino, a country house belonging to the Grand Duke. There is an immense statue of _The Apennines_, represented as an old man, a colossal figure. The waterworks must have cost a prodigious sum, and, though contrary to the present taste of gardening, I confess I admire the _jets d’eau_ and even the childish tricks which are made to catch and surprise the unwary observer. I lived very much with Mde. d’Albany and Alfieri. Don Neri Corsini, Fabroni, and a few others composed my society. Ld. H. read to me Pope’s Homer, _The Iliad_. I was delighted with parts of it, but the _Odyssey_ I could not listen to.

_Florence, October 4th, 1795._--The first and strongest sensation one feels on entering Italy is the recollection of those historical events that from childhood are impressed upon the mind, and those classical sentiments that one strives both from vanity and taste to bring back to memory; but when the turbulence of the imagination subsides, and a long residence in the country familiarises one with objects so attractive, modern Italy, her poets, historians, and artists, arrest the attention very justly by the admiration to which they are entitled. Florence of all places is the most calculated to inspire a taste for the pursuit of modern literature. Every step reminds one that it was the seat of the Medicis, which is synonymous with the arts, the sciences, and taste; its splendid monuments and useful works all evince the beneficence of those patrons and restorers of literature....

I meant to have continued some anecdotes of the Medici, but I have undergone too much affliction since writing the above. I was brought to bed of a lovely boy in October, but owing to the neglect of the nurses he fell into convulsions and died. Never shall I become mother to such an infant. Lord Macartney[140] came and dined several times with me on his way to Rome.