GENOA—THE PALLAVICINI FAMILY—CHARACTER OF THE GENOESE—RETURN
TO ENGLAND—THE ROYAL FAMILY AT BRIGHTON—LONDON—GLOOMY
RETROSPECT—ANECDOTES.
JOURNAL CONTINUED—1830.
GENOA, January 1st.—The accounts of the weather from all quarters very
extraordinary. In London terrible fogs; at Paris the Seine frozen over;
at Turin and at Milan more snow than has ever been known before; and
here, a greater succession of north-east and north-west winds than can
be remembered for sixty years.
23rd.—The Prince of the Peace was at the Opera last night with his
wife.[110] He is on his way to Paris, where, not long ago, or at least
in the neighbourhood of Paris, died the Lady of the House of Bourbon,
whom he married, and it was reported that he had another wife. M. de B——
said that in Spain he was assured that the Prince had not been married
to this other lady, but that he had now married her. I remember meeting
a son of theirs at the house of a Spanish lady, at Paris, a few years
ago; and at Rome I heard that, in company with the King and Queen of
Spain, the Prince of Peace, with his daughter by the Lady of the House
of Bourbon, were arrived in Italy. The governor of this place, the
Marquis d’Hyène, has been greatly beloved wherever he has commanded. At
one place the good people wished to pay him particular attention, and,
among other decorations for his reception, had a transparency
representing a hyæna surrounded by little Cupids caressing it. To
explain the meaning of this, they
said to the Marquis d’Hyène: “Noi siamo gli amorini, e la bestià è
l’eccellenza vostra.”
In the memoirs of the Pallavicini family, it appears that a
nobleman[111] of that name went to England on a mission from the Pope to
receive money due to the Holy See, and that, after getting possession of
it, he became a Protestant, and appropriated the money to his own use.
His wife was with him, and after his death she married a son of
Cromwell, and returned with her second husband to Genoa, where they
inhabited the villa still belonging to the Pallavicini family, called La
Peschiera. If this be true, it must have happened during the short reign
of James II., for, otherwise, what hope could the Pontiff have of
getting money from England? It seems odd, however, that he should have
sent a secular, and a married one, too; but that might have been to
avoid exciting suspicion. I remember that when I was at Genoa, many
years ago, with my mother, we were told that a son of Cromwell had lived
in a villa over the Zerbino, a little way out of the gate. This answers
to the Pallavicini villa.
Genoa is sadly altered and degraded. Many of its finest buildings are
falling to decay, and the grass grows luxuriantly in their court-yards.
And yet trade flourishes more than ever. The principal nobility and
merchants are still very rich, and the King of Sardinia does all in his
power to render it a flourishing seaport and an agreeable residence. But
it is more difficult to make the Genoese amuse themselves than it is to
make them get money—the former implies spending it. There is great
inequality of fortune—great riches and great poverty.
April 27.—This day was celebrated, outside the gates, the feast of a
saint held in great veneration by the common people. On the eve there
were illuminations and fireworks, and the church was crowded with people
either from devotion or for the sake of amusement. They say that this
saint was once upon a time servant to a baker, and used to take a great
many loaves every morning for the poor. The baker missed his bread, and
suspected his servant. He watched her, and saw her go out with her apron
filled. On stopping her, he was much surprised, for he saw nothing but
flowers. This is celebrated as a miracle.
When Lord Exmouth was at Genoa, he took everything he could take, even
to the brass rings which received the chain of the port. How different
was this from the conduct of Lord Nelson and Sir Thomas Troubridge when
in the Mediterranean! _They_ came to rescue nations, and not to plunder
them.
It is said to be a custom here, that when a man is displeased with
another, as a token of resentment and defiance, he lets his whiskers
grow. Perhaps this may be the reason why the King expressed his
dissatisfaction with a young nobleman who allowed his whiskers to grow,
though he was not in the army. The young man cut them off, but is so
displeased that he will not go to Court.
The Marchesa Durezzo says, that of the lower classes in Genoa the most
courteous and good natured are the sailors, whom I have always heard
spoken of as the best seamen of the Mediterranean. There is a harshness
in the lower orders, and a stiffness in the higher classes of the
Genoese, which one does not meet with in other Italians. But they have
understanding and acuteness, and I believe that, in reality, they have
the affectionate heart peculiar to their common country—but you must get
at it.
[At the end of May, Miss Knight resumed her wanderings, halting,
however, at Turin until the middle of July. She thence proceeded to
Milan and across the Simplon to Geneva. Passing on by way of Neufchâtel,
she again entered France, and arrived at Dijon on the 12th of August,
under which date occurs the following entry: “The town was obliged to
illuminate last night in honour of the new King, Louis Philippe, being
proclaimed ‘Roi des Français.’ The people display no enthusiasm, and all
is quiet in this district. Several officers have resigned their
commissions. On the road I met some wounded Swiss and others of that
corps, and also of the Royal Guards, both of which corps are now
suppressed, and the men dismissed to their respective homes.” Three days
later, Miss Knight arrived in Paris, and on the 9th of September at
Dover. “On the road from Paris to Calais,” she remarks, “I perceived no
signs of gaiety or enthusiasm. A person disposed to criticise the nation
would, perhaps, divide it into three classes—knaves, dupes, and people
intimidated by their recollection of the horrid scenes of the former
revolution. Certain it is that the prosperity of France was great, and
yearly increasing, and now all has become precarious, thanks to
designing ambition and infamous journals. I am sick of the subject, and
what I did not write while in the country from prudence, I now avoid
writing from disgust.” In the following October, Miss Knight took
apartments at Brighton, where she was presented to William IV. and Queen
Adelaide, and invited to an evening party on the 21st, at which
“tableaux were represented by an actor from the theatre. The King and
Queen were very civil to everybody.” She was again invited on the 27th
of December, when “the Pavilion was lighted up and as hot as possible. I
cannot admire the dragons and other Oriental fancies, having been
spoiled for such things by being early accustomed to the dignified
simplicity of classic taste. Besides the two Princesses, the Duke of
Sussex was there, and some of the new Ministers, Lord Grey, Sir James
Graham, Lord Holland, and Lord Durham.” The last entry of the year runs
in these words: “A whale was caught near this place two days ago. It is
sixty-five feet in length. It was almost dead, and had a harpoon in its
body.” On the 28th of December, Miss Knight takes a gloomy retrospective
view of the events of the previous twelve months. “This miserable year,”
she writes, “is almost at its close. On the 26th of June, died George
IV., who was succeeded by William Duke of Clarence. On the 29th of July,
Charles X. lost his throne—the Dauphin as well as himself renouncing all
right to it. The Duke of Orleans was crowned by four marshals in a very
small assembly of the representatives of the nation, and without any
religious ceremony. No etiquette, no distinctions, allowed. Popular
tumults in France and England. The King and Queen of England deterred
from dining in the City owing to a communication from the Lord Mayor,
advising them of intended riots and the cutting of the gas-pipes. The
Duke of Wellington left in a minority, and obliged to resign: Lord Grey
and his party forming the new administration. The revolt of Belgium;
disturbances in many parts of Germany; the Duke of Brunswick expelled in
favour of his brother; the Grand-Duke Constantine and the Russians
driven out of Poland; fires in many counties in England to destroy the
haystacks and corn-ricks!”
[1831.]
Mrs. Fitzherbert, when William IV. visited her after his brother’s
death, showed him the papers which proved her marriage with the late
King, first by a Roman Catholic priest, and immediately afterwards by a
clergyman of the Church of England. The King desired her to put on
widow’s weeds. Mrs. Fitzherbert also showed these papers to the Duke of
Wellington, then Prime Minister. She is constantly invited to the
Queen’s parties, and is treated with much respect.
January 8.—Dined at General Egerton’s, and went in the evening with him
and Mrs. E. to a great party at the Pavilion. The Prince of Orange was
there. He came yesterday, and is to stay till the 10th. He has been some
time in England, and brought a letter to the King from his father,
requesting his Majesty to be kind to him, as he himself had forgiven
him. There was dancing, and some musicians from Bohemia played and sang.
February 14.—The King after dinner drank to the memory of the Earl of
St. Vincent, and of all the brave officers and men who fought on that
day and are now no more, and to the health of those who survive.
London, March 6.—The son of Murat lives in this (Dover) street. He
arrived lately from America, where he is naturalised, and practises at
the bar. He often visits his cousin Lady Dudley Stuart, the daughter of
Lucien Bonaparte. The Prince of Orange, I hear, is frequently at their
parties. Murat was at Lord Grey’s last night.
April 17.—Dined with the Duke and Duchess of Cumberland, at their
apartments in St. James’s Palace. The Landgravine was also there. The
apartments are handsome. On the ground floor a waiting-room, library,
and dining-room; and up-stairs, a large and superb drawing-room;
excellent bedchamber, dressing-room, &c. There are several
portraits—George III., Queen Charlotte, Mr. Pitt, two sons of the
Duchess, a bust of Goethe, &c. The dinner was very good, and well
served: all in the most proper style. The Duchess has excellent manners,
and Prince George, who came in at the dessert, with two young
companions, is really a delightful boy.
December 31.—This year has been one of the most painful to the feelings
of those who have been accustomed to the principles of social order and
morality, that I can remember. The French revolution in the last century
cannot be recalled to mind without horror, as every period of it was
marked by the most atrocious crimes, and a total contempt of morality
and religion. But the insidious duplicity, the want of faith, and
perversion of reason, which have brought about and coloured the progress
of that of 1830, threaten Europe with a total disorganisation of
political and moral principle. Alarm of every description is prevailing.
The ties of blood and of alliance are forgotten; and while it is
pretended that everything is being done for the maintenance of peace, no
security is given for the preservation of internal tranquillity. France
is still under the government of Louis Philippe and his Minister,
Casimir Périer; Belgium, under that of Leopold. Poland is reoccupied by
Russia. Italy, notwithstanding the efforts made to revolutionise her, is
still quiet, except, perhaps, in the three Legations, and they are kept
in awe by Austria.
[At the end of this lamentation, Miss Knight records various anecdotes
she had picked up in the course of the year, a few of which are worth
extracting.]
April 19.—Prince de Talleyrand wrote the other day to Louis Philippe,
who had been intriguing to get the throne of Belgium for his second son,
the Duke de Nemours: “Il faut que votre Majesté se rappelle qu’avant de
pouvoir mettre le pied en Brabant, il faut avoir le pied en Europe.”
The Duke of Orleans was always making unjust complaints of Louis XVIII.,
and one day went so far as to say to M. de B. that it was very unwise to
treat him in that manner, for, added he, “Je compte pour beaucoup en
France.” M. de B. answered: “Cela n’est pas possible, monseigneur, car
vous n’êtes ni brave, ni généreux;” and, turning his back on him, left
the room. The Duke from that time overwhelmed M. de B. with civilities
and flatteries.
Charles X. says that his conscience acquits him of having had anything
in view contrary to the good of his people, whose lives he wished to
spare, and whom he was only anxious to save from the artifices of
faction. He was made to believe that there would be twenty-nine thousand
troops in Paris, and that all would pass over quietly. The Dauphiness
still speaks with tender affection of her native country,
notwithstanding all she has suffered there. She said the other day to a
lady: “On nous calomnie cruellement; mais croyez-vous que l’histoire
nous rendra justice?”
The Grand-Duchess Helena is now (July) at Sidmouth, and her father,
Prince Paul of Würtemberg, is with her. An Irish family were presented
to her amongst others, when she said to them: “What are you doing here?
You ought to be in your own country, and spending your money there.”
Don Pedro, Duke of Braganza, ex-Emperor of Brazil, told a lady of very
high rank, who repeated it to me, that the misfortune of the present age
was that none of the sovereigns had a head to manage affairs.
One of the French papers says, that in the recent elections M. B., a
Royalist, has been chosen, at which it manifests great surprise, but
adds, that the department for which he had been elected had not attained
that degree of civilisation which excludes the idea of legitimacy. From
the well-known opinions professed by the journal in question, it cannot
be suspected of jesting on the subject.
Somebody having said in conversation that Ministers had advised his
Majesty to dismiss his household troops, a gentleman answered: “In that
case he should begin by dismissing the _Greys_.”
It is said Prince Leopold has been _forced_ to accept the crown of
Belgium. The expression is, “a pistol has been held to his throat, and
another to that of the King of Holland, to make the one accept and the
other resign, to avoid bringing England and Holland into collision.” We
are not, however, obliged to believe this. Louis Philippe has long had
great influence over Prince Leopold.
The King (William IV.) said the other day, in speaking of Don Pedro: “To
be sure, we are both sovereigns—at least, he _was_ one: but there is a
great difference between us for all that; for I am an honest man, and he
is a thief.”
A Frenchman, lately arrived in London, was asked if he had caught the
influenza: “Ah! non,” he replied; “je l’ai prise en grippe.”
Lady Talbot of Malahide is turned of ninety. She is of a very ancient
and distinguished family in Ireland, and, in gratitude for certain
favours bestowed, came over to the Coronation, and went also to the
following Drawing-room. I met one evening one of her sons, who is an
Admiral, with his niece, her grand-daughter, and they said she was not
in the least fatigued.
It has been discovered that four persons were sent from Paris to take
the life of the Duke de Bordeaux. Three of them went in separate
stagecoaches to Edinburgh, but they have been forced to return, and
additional sentinels have been placed at Holyrood. The child now does
not walk out with a servant as before, but only goes out in a carriage.
The fourth assassin does not seem to have been found out.
A stranger happening to be in Paris soon after the revolution of July,
1830, was stopped by a young chimney-sweeper, who asked him if he had
seen the King of the French. The other replied in the negative. “Would
you like to see him?” continued the chimney-sweeper. “Only give me a
piece of five francs and you shall see him.” The stranger agreed to do
so, and they went away together to the Palais Royal. As soon as they
were in sight of the balcony the boy began to call out, “Louis Philippe!
Louis Philippe!” in which cry he was joined by the rabble near him. The
King of the French came out to make his obeisance, and the gentleman
gave a five-franc piece to the sweeper. “Now,” said the boy, “if you
have a mind to hear him sing, only promise me five more, and you shall
be satisfied.” The stranger assented, and his Majesty, at the command of
the mob, joined in the Marseillaise Hymn, with all the appropriate
grimaces.
At the time when Louis Philippe was shaking hands with everybody in the
street, he held out his hand to a man, who said, “Stop a little.”
Thrusting both hands in the mud he offered them to the King, saying,
“Now they are fit for you.”
Thirty years ago Louis Philippe remarked: “Je n’aurai de paix que quand
je serai Roi de France.”
Since the shameful business of the lawsuit respecting the late Duke of
Bourbon’s will, they call Louis Philippe “Louis Filou.”
Le peuple! c’est le peuple qu’on loue et qu’on blâme:
Hélas! le bon peuple n’a ni raison ni tort:
Corps sain et vigoureux, dont un héros est l’âme,
Ou machine du traître agissant à ressort.
The young Duke de Bordeaux, while playing at ball, was accosted by a
Frenchman with many compliments, who told him he would certainly be
king. “La place est prise,” answered the boy. The man kept teasing him,
and at last said: “Mais j’ai envie d’assassiner celui qui a pris cette
place.” “Et moi,” replied the young Duke, “je le défendrai.” This was
said with an air of noble contempt, and he would not listen to anything
more the man had to say.
The Countess de N. says she knows from certain authority that Casimir
Périer in his ravings, during the last few days of his life, fancied
himself Charles X., and that he was constantly ordering to the block the
traitor Périer.
The Duke de B., who lived so many years on the most intimate terms with
Louis XVIII., declares, that the Memoirs published in his Majesty’s name
were never written by him, for he burnt all his papers a short time
before his death. He thinks they were revised by the Duke Decazes, but
written by a M. Capefigue, of Marseilles.
[During the year 1832, Miss Knight divided her time between Brighton,
Tunbridge Wells, London, Tottenham Park, Cheltenham, and Oxford. At the
close of the year she was again at Brighton. She sums up as follows the
events of the preceding twelve months: “What an eventful year! The
dreadful ravages of the cholera in many places, especially in London and
Paris, have carried off many well-known persons. Charles X. and his
suite left Scotland, attended by the blessings and regrets of the
inhabitants. He is now at Prague. The Duchess de Berri a prisoner in the
castle of Blois. The citadel of Antwerp, bravely defended by General
Chassé, compelled at length to surrender to Marshal Gérard. The combined
fleets of France and England, meanwhile, unable to approach the coast on
account of the weather. Affairs not yet settled. Prince Otho, of
Bavaria, now King of Greece, conveyed to the Piræus on board an English
ship of war!”]
[1833.]
[The greater part of the year 1833 was passed by Miss Knight in London,
but the only entry in her Diary worthy of notice is the following one:]
June 14th.—Dined at Lady Charleville’s, to meet Lady Charlotte Bury,
Miss Porter, Mr. Disraeli, Lord Oxmantown, Mr. Campbell, and others. In
the evening more company came. The manners of Miss Porter appeared to me
as pleasing and unassuming as her novels are natural and entertaining,
no less than well principled. Mr. Campbell, author of “The Pleasures of
Hope,” &c., is grown very large, and appears to be in ill-health. Mr.
Disraeli is an author, and the son of an author. He talked much of the
government of Syria, Egypt, &c. Among those who came in the evening was
Lady Morgan, but I had no opportunity of hearing her converse, as I came
away early.
[A few anecdotes are inserted at the close of the year, from which the
following are selected. The “local habitation,” assigned to the
oft-quoted grace on rabbits, is on the authority of the Princess
Augusta.]
The Duke of Richmond, great-uncle of the present one (recently
deceased), was very fond of hares and rabbits, especially the latter,
and used to have them constantly served at table, dressed in various
ways. His chaplain in ordinary, who used to sit near the lower end, was
not a little tired of them, more especially as by the time they came to
him they were often quite cold. So, being asked to say grace, he
recited:
“Rabbits young, and rabbits old,
Rabbits hot, and rabbits cold,
Rabbits tender, rabbits tough,
Thanks to Heav’n, we’ve had rabbits enough.”
Sir Herbert Taylor says that “The English are never so happy as when
they are discontented; the Irish never in such good humour as when they
are breaking heads; and the Scotch never so much at home as when they
are living upon others.”
Count de M., when Minister at Stockholm, was staying at the house of the
Count d’Uglas, after the Countess and his young daughter, who was in a
bad state of health, had left him on their way to Paris. One morning he
told the Count and Countess d’Uglas that he had passed a very
uncomfortable night, for that he had continually seen a kneeling figure,
sometimes on one, sometimes on the other side of his bed, and that,
though the back was turned to him, it perfectly resembled his daughter.
The impression was so strong upon his mind that he sketched the figure,
which, in fact, did resemble hers. On comparing dates, it afterwards
appeared that his daughter had died at that very time.[112]
An old woman, who died a few years ago in Ireland, had a nephew, a
lawyer, to whom she left by will all she possessed. She happened to have
a favourite cat, who never left her, and even remained by the corpse
after her death. After the will was read in the adjoining room, on
opening the door the cat sprang at the lawyer, seized him by the throat,
and was with difficulty prevented from strangling him. This man died
about eighteen months after this scene, and on his death-bed confessed
that he had murdered his aunt to get possession of her money.
Lord Nelson, writing to the Admiralty for supplies at a time when his
squadron stood in great need of them (in the year 1799, I think), said:
“We must have them from home, for Spain _would not_, Naples and Sicily
_could not_, and Sardinia _ought not_, to supply them.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------