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BEFORE AND AFTER WATERLOO
[Illustration: _Le courier du Rhin perd tout en revenant de la foire de
Leipsig._]
BEFORE AND AFTER WATERLOO
LETTERS
FROM
EDWARD STANLEY
SOMETIME BISHOP OF NORWICH
(1802; 1814; 1816)
EDITED BY JANE H. ADEANE AND MAUD GRENFELL
LONDON
T. FISHER UNWIN
ADELPHI TERRACE
MCMVII
(_All rights reserved._)
ECHOES OF PAST DAYS
AT
ALDERLEY RECTORY
[Illustration: _Edward Stanley D.D._
_Bishop of Norwich_
_n. 1780 ob. 1849_]
CONTENTS
PAGE
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF EDWARD STANLEY 9
CHAPTER I
NEW FRANCE AND OLD EUROPE 25
CHAPTER II
AFTER NAPOLEON'S FALL 73
CHAPTER III
UNDER THE BOURBON FLAG 97
CHAPTER IV
ON THE TRACK OF NAPOLEON'S ARMY 144
CHAPTER V
THE LOW COUNTRIES 199
CHAPTER VI
THE WATERLOO YEAR 235
CHAPTER VII
AFTER WATERLOO 247
_The originals of most of the letters now published are, with the
drawings that illustrate them, at Llanfawr, Holyhead._
_Some extracts from these letters have already appeared in the "Early
Married Life of Maria Josepha, Lady Stanley," but are here inserted
again by kind permission of Messrs. Longman, and complete Bishop
Stanley's correspondence._
_Portions of letters quoted in Dean Stanley's volume, "Edward and
Catherine Stanley," have also been used with Messrs. Murray's consent._
_In addition to the MSS. at Llanfawr, Lord Stanley of Alderley has
kindly contributed some original letters in his possession._
_J.H.A._
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
"LE COURIER DU RHIN" _Frontispiece_
_Sketch brought to England 1814 by General Scott of Thorpe,
one of the detenus in France for ten years after the rupture
of the Peache of Amiens, mentioned page 73._
BISHOP STANLEY _To face page_ 2
_By John Linnell. From a drawing in the possession of
Canon J. Hugh Way, Henbury._
MARGARET OWEN, LADY STANLEY " 10
_From a miniature in the possession of Lady Reade-Carreglwyd,
Anglesey._
"FLIGHT OF INTELLECT" " 17
_Humorous sketch by E. Stanley._
EDWARD STANLEY, 1800 " 25
_By P. Green. The original in the possession of Lord Stanley
of Alderley, at Penrhos, Anglesey._
THE PRISON OF THE TEMPLE " 31
_Sketch by E. Stanley, 1802._
THE GUILLOTINE AT CHALON-SUR-SAÔNE " 43
_Sketch by E. Stanley,_
LORD SHEFFIELD " 73
_By Sir Joshua Reynolds, P.R.A. From an engraving in the
possession of J.H. Adeane, Lanfavar, Holyhead._
KITTY LEYCESTER, MRS. EDWARD STANLEY " 82
_From a drawing by H. Edridge, A.R.A., at Alderley Park,
Cheshire._
PARIS, 1814. OLD BRIDGE AND CHÂTELET " 108
_E. Stanley._
PARIS, LA POMPE, NOTRE DAME " 115
_E. S._
PARISIAN AMUSEMENTS " 141
_E. S._
THE CATACOMBS, PARIS " 143
_E. S._
LAON. HOUSES AND TOWER, 1814 " 161
_E. S._
BERRY AU BAC " 164
_E. S._
VERDUN. BRIDGE " 168
_E. Stanley._
FRENCH DILIGENCE " 193
_E. S._
DUTCH SHIPS " 199
_E. S._
DUTCH DILIGENCE ON BOARD A BOAT " 219
_E. S._
GOAT CARRIAGE FOR THE LITTLE KING OF ROME " 223
_E. S._
DUTCH TABLE D'HOTE " 226
_E. S._
OLD HOUSES, SAARDAM " 228
_E. S._
PETER THE GREAT'S HOUSE, SAARDAM " 230
_E. S._
DUTCH FISHERMEN " 233
_E. S._
DUTCH CARRIAGE " 234
_E. S._
CORN MILLS AT VERNON " 247
_E. S._
FRENCH CABRIOLET " 260
_E. S._
HOUGOUMONT " 263
_E. S._
INTERIOR OF HOUGOUMONT " 265
_E. S._
LA BELLE ALLIANCE " 267
_E. S._
WATERLOO " 270
_E. S._
GHENT. ST. NICHOLAS " 274
_E. S._
PORTE DE HALLE, BRUSSELS, LEADING TO WATERLOO " 276
_E. S._
PARISIAN RAT-CATCHER AND ITINERANT VENDORS " 300
_E. S._
THE GREAT GREEN COACH " 306
_E. S._
ALDERLEY RECTORY _page_ 308
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF EDWARD STANLEY
The letters which are collected in this volume were written from abroad
during the opening years of the nineteenth century, at three different
periods: after the Peace of Amiens in 1802 and 1803, after the Peace of
Paris in 1814, and in the year following Waterloo, June, 1816.
The writer, Edward Stanley, was for thirty-three years an active country
clergyman, and for twelve years more a no less active bishop, at a time
when such activity was uncommon, though not so rare as is sometimes now
supposed.
Although a member of one of the oldest Cheshire families, he did not
share the opinions of his county neighbours on public questions, and his
voice was fearlessly raised on behalf of causes which are now
triumphant, and against abuses which are now forgotten, but which
acutely needed champions and reformers a hundred years ago.
His foreign journeys, and more especially the first of them, had a large
share in determining the opinions which he afterwards maintained against
great opposition from many of his own class and profession. The sight of
France still smarting under the effects of the Reign of Terror, and of
other countries still sunk in Mediævalism, helped to make him a Liberal
with "a passion for reform and improvement, but without a passion for
destruction."
He was born in 1779, the second son and youngest child of Sir John
Stanley, the Squire of Alderley in Cheshire, and of his wife Margaret
Owen (the Welsh heiress of Penrhos in Holyhead Island), who was one of
the "seven lovely Peggies," well known in Anglesey society in the middle
of the eighteenth century.
The pictures of Edward Stanley and his mother, which still hang on the
walls of her Anglesey home, show that he inherited the brilliant Welsh
colouring, marked eyebrows and flashing dark eyes that gave force as
well as beauty to her face. From her, too, came the romantic Celtic
imagination and fiery energy which enabled him to find interests
everywhere, and to make his mark in a career which was not the one he
would have chosen.
[Illustration: _Margaret Owen, Lady Stanley.
n. 1742 ob. 1816._]
"In early years" (so his son the Dean of Westminster records) "he had
acquired a passion for the sea, which he cherished down to the time of
his entrance at college, and which never left him through life. It first
originated, as he believed, in the delight which he experienced, when
between three and four years of age, on a visit to the seaport of
Weymouth; and long afterwards he retained a vivid recollection of the
point where he caught the first sight of a ship, and shed tears because
he was not allowed to go on board. So strongly was he possessed by the
feeling thus acquired, that as a child he used to leave his bed and
sleep on the shelf of a wardrobe, for the pleasure of imagining himself
in a berth on board a man-of-war.... The passion was overruled by
circumstances beyond his control, but it gave a colour to his whole
after-life. He never ceased to retain a keen interest in everything
relating to the navy.... He seemed instinctively to know the history,
character, and state of every ship and every officer in the service. Old
naval captains were often astonished at finding in him a more accurate
knowledge than their own of when, where, how, and under whom, such and
such vessels had been employed. The stories of begging impostors
professing to be shipwrecked seamen were detected at once by his
cross-examinations. The sight of a ship, the society of sailors, the
embarkation on a voyage, were always sufficient to inspirit and delight
him wherever he might be."
His life, when at his mother's home on the Welsh coast, only increased
this liking, and till he went to Cambridge in 1798 his education had not
been calculated to prepare him for a clerical life. He never received
any instruction in classics; of Greek and Latin and mathematics he knew
nothing, and owing to his schools and tutors being constantly changed,
his general knowledge was of a desultory sort.
His force of character, great perseverance and ambition to excel are
shown in the strenuous manner in which he overcame all these obstacles,
and at the close of his college career at St. John's, Cambridge, became
a wrangler in the Mathematical Tripos of 1802.
After a year passed in foreign travel Edward Stanley returned home at
his brother's request, and took command of the Alderley Volunteers--a
corps of defence raised by him on the family estate in expectation of a
French invasion.
In 1803 he was ordained and became curate of Windlesham, in Surrey.
There he remained until he was presented by his father in 1805 to the
living of Alderley, where he threw himself enthusiastically into his
work.
Alderley parish had long been neglected, and there was plenty of scope
for the young Rector.
Before he came, the clerk used to go to the churchyard stile to see
whether there were any more coming to church, for there were seldom
enough to make a congregation, but before Edward Stanley left, his
parish was one of the best organised of the day. He set on foot schemes
of education throughout the county as well as at Alderley, and was
foremost in all reforms.
The Chancellor of the diocese wrote of him: "He inherited from his
family strong Whig principles, which he always retained, and he never
shrank from advocating those maxims of toleration which at that time
formed the chief watchwords of the Whig party."
He was the first who distinctly saw and boldly advocated the advantages
of general education for the people, and set the example of the extent
to which general knowledge might be communicated in a parochial school.
"To analyse the actual effects of his ministrations on the people would
be difficult, ... but the general result was what might have been
expected. Dissent was all but extinguished. The church was filled, the
communicants many."
He helped to found a Clerical Society, which promoted friendly
intercourse with clergy holding various views, and was never afraid of
avowing his opinions on subjects he thought vital, lest he should in
consequence become unpopular.
He grudged no trouble about anything he undertook, and the people
rejoiced when they heard "the short, quick tramp of his horse's feet as
he went galloping up their lanes." The sick were visited and cheered,
and the children kindly cared for in and out of school.
It was said of him that "whenever there was a drunken fight in the
village and he knew of it, he would always come out to stop it--there
was such a spirit in him."
Tidings were once brought to him of a riotous crowd, which had assembled
to witness a desperate prize fight, adjourned to the outskirts of his
parish, and which the respectable inhabitants were unable to disperse.
"The whole field" (so one of the humbler neighbours represented it) "was
filled and all the trees round about, when in about a quarter of an hour
I saw the Rector coming up the road on his little black horse as quick
as lightning, and I trembled for fear they should harm him. He rode
into the field and just looked round as if he thought the same, to see
who there was that would be on his side. But it was not needed; he rode
into the midst of the crowd and in one moment it was all over. There was
a great calm; the blows stopped; it was as if they would all have wished
to cover themselves up in the earth. All from the trees they dropped
down directly. No one said a word and all went away humbled."
The next day the Rector sent for the two men, not to scold them, but to
speak to them, and sent them each away with a Bible. The effect on the
neighbourhood was very great, and put a stop to the practice which had
been for some time prevalent in the adjacent districts.
His influence was increased by his early knowledge of the people, and by
the long connection of his family with the place.
Two years after Edward had accepted the incumbency, his father died in
London, but he had long before given up living in Cheshire, and Alderley
Park had been occupied at his desire by his eldest son, afterwards Sir
John, who had made his home there since his marriage in 1796.
Both the Stanley brothers married remarkable women. Lady Maria Josepha
Holroyd, Sir John's wife, was the elder daughter of the first Lord
Sheffield, the friend and biographer of Gibbon, and her strong
personality impressed every one who met her.
Catherine, wife of the Rector, was the daughter of the Rev. Oswald
Leycester, of Stoke Rectory, in Shropshire. Her father was one of the
Leycesters of Toft House, only a few miles from Alderley, and at Toft
most of Catherine's early years were spent. She was engaged to Edward
Stanley before she was seventeen, but did not marry him till nearly two
years later, in 1810.
During the interval she spent some time in London with Sir John and Lady
Maria Stanley, and in the literary society of the opening years of the
nineteenth century she was much sought after for her charm and
appreciativeness, and for what Sydney Smith called her "porcelain
understanding." The wits and lions of the Miss Berrys' parties vied with
each other in making much of her; Rogers and Scott delighted in her
conversation--in short, every one agreed, as her sister-in-law Maria
wrote, that "in Kitty Leycester Edward will indeed have a treasure."
After her marriage she kept up with her friends by active correspondence
and by annual visits to London. Still, "to the outside world she was
comparatively unknown; but there was a quiet wisdom, a rare
unselfishness, a calm discrimination, a firm decision which made her
judgment and her influence felt through the whole circle in which she
lived." Her power and charm, coupled with her husband's, made Alderley
Rectory an inspiring home to their children, several of whom inherited
talent to a remarkable degree.
Her sister Maria[1] writes from Hodnet, the home of the poet Heber: "I
want to know all you have been doing since the day that bore me away
from happy Alderley. Oh! the charm of a rectory inhabited by a Reginald
Heber or an Edward Stanley!"
That Rectory and its surroundings have been perfectly described in the
words of the author of "Memorials of a Quiet Life"[2]: "A low house,
with a verandah forming a wide balcony for the upper storey, where
bird-cages hung among the roses; its rooms and passages filled with
pictures, books, and old carved oak furniture. In a country where the
flat pasture lands of Cheshire rise suddenly to the rocky ridge of
Alderley Edge, with the Holy Well under an overhanging cliff; its
gnarled pine-trees, its storm-beaten beacon tower ready to give notice
of an invasion, and looking far over the green plain to the smoke which
indicates in the horizon the presence of the great manufacturing towns."
There was constant intercourse between the Park and the Rectory, and the
two families with a large circle of friends led most interesting and
busy lives. The Rector took delight in helping his seven nieces with
their Italian and Spanish studies, in fostering their love of poetry and
natural history, and in developing the minds of his own young children.
He wrote plays for them to act and birthday odes for them to recite.
[Illustration: THE FLIGHT OF INTELLECT
Skit on the recent discovery of the motive power of steam.--E. Stanley.
_To face p. 17._]
Legends of the countryside, domestic tragedies and comedies were turned
into verse, whether it were the Cheshire legend of the Iron Gates or the
fall of Sir John Stanley and his spectacles into the Alderley mere, the
discovery of a butterfly or the loss of "a superfine piece of Bala
flannel."
His caricatures illustrated his droll ideas, as in his sketches of the
six "Ologies from Entomology to Apology." His witty and graceful
"Bustle's Banquet" or the "Dinner of the Dogs" made a trio with the
popular poems then recently published of the "Butterfly's Ball" and "The
Peacock at Home."
"And since Insects give Balls and Birds are so gay,
'Tis high time to prove that we Dogs have our day."
He wrote a "Familiar History of Birds," illustrated by many personal
observations, for throughout his life he never lost a chance of watching
wild bird life. In his early days he had had special opportunities of
doing so among the rocks and caverns of Holyhead Island. He tells of the
myriads of sea-birds who used to haunt the South Stack Rock there, in
the days when it was almost inaccessible; and of their dispersal by the
building of the first lighthouse there in 1808, when for a time they
deserted it and never returned in such numbers.
His own family at Alderley Rectory consisted of three sons and two
daughters.
The eldest son, Owen, had his father's passion for the sea, and was
allowed to follow his bent. His scientific tastes led him to adopt the
surveying branch of his profession, and in 1836, when appointed to the
_Terror_ on her expedition to the North Seas, he had charge of the
astronomical and magnetic operations.
When in command of the _Britomart_, in 1840, he secured the North Island
of New Zealand to the English by landing and hoisting the British flag,
having heard that a party of French emigrants intended to land that day.
They did so, but under the protection of the Union Jack.
In 1846 Owen Stanley commanded the _Rattlesnake_ in an important and
responsible expedition to survey the unknown coast of New Guinea; this
lasted four years and was very successful, but the great strain and the
shock of his brother Charles' death at Hobart Town, at this time, were
too much for him. He died suddenly on board his ship at Sydney in 1850,
"after thirty-three years' arduous service in every clime."
Professor Huxley, in whose arms he breathed his last, was surgeon to
this expedition, and his first published composition was an article
describing it. He speaks of Owen Stanley thus: "Of all those who were
actively engaged upon the survey, the young commander alone was destined
to be robbed of his just rewards; he has raised an enduring monument in
his works, and his epitaph shall be the grateful thanks of many a
mariner threading his way among the mazes of the Coral Seas."
The second and most distinguished of the three sons was Arthur Penrhyn
Stanley, of whom it was said "that in the wideness of his sympathies,
the broadness of his toleration, and the generosity of his temperament
the brilliant Dean of Westminster was a true son of his father, the
Bishop of Norwich."
The third son, Charles Edward, a young officer in the Royal Engineers,
who had done good work in the Ordnance Survey of Wales, and was already
high in his profession, was suddenly cut off by fever at his official
post in Tasmania in 1849.
The eldest daughter, Mary, had great powers of organisation, was a keen
philanthropist and her father's right hand at Norwich. In 1854 she took
charge of a detachment of nurses who followed Miss Nightingale's pioneer
band to the East, and worked devotedly for the Crimean sick and wounded
at the hospital at Koulalee.
Katherine, the youngest daughter, a most original character, married Dr.
Vaughan, headmaster of Harrow, Master of the Temple, and Dean of
Llandaff. She survived her whole family and lived till 1899.
The home at Alderley lasted for thirty-three years, during which Edward
Stanley had changed the whole face of the parish and successfully
organised many schemes of improvement in the conditions of the working
classes in his neighbourhood. He could now leave his work to other
hands, and felt that his energies required a wider field, so that when
in 1838 Lord Melbourne offered him the See of Norwich he was induced to
accept the offer, though only "after much hesitation and after a severe
struggle, which for a time almost broke down his usual health and
sanguine spirit."
"It would be vain and useless," he said, "to speak to others of what it
cost me to leave Alderley"; but to his new sphere he carried the same
zeal and indomitable energy which had ever characterised him, and gained
the affection of many who had shuddered at the appointment of a "Liberal
Bishop."
At Norwich his work was very arduous and often discouraging. He came in
the dawn of the Victorian age to attack a wall of customs and abuses
which had arisen far back in the early Georgian era, with no hereditary
connection or influence in the diocese to counteract the odium that he
incurred as a new-comer by the institution of changes which he deemed
necessary.
It was no wonder that for three or four years he had to stem a steady
torrent of prejudice and more or less opposition; but though his
broadminded views were often the subject of criticism, his bitterest
opponents could not withstand the genial, kindly spirit in which he met
their objections.
"At the time of his entrance upon his office party feeling was much more
intense than it has been in later years, and of this the county of
Norfolk presented, perhaps, as strong examples as could be found in any
part of the kingdom."
The bishop was "a Whig in politics and a staunch supporter of a Whig
ministry," but in all the various questions where politics and theology
cross one another he took the free and comprehensive instead of the
precise and exclusive views, and to impress them on others was one chief
interest of his new position.
The indifference to party which he displayed, both in social matters and
in his dealings with his clergy, tended to alienate extreme partisans of
whatever section, and at one time caused him even to be unpopular with
the lower classes of Norwich in spite of his sympathies.
The courage with which the Rector had quelled the prize fight at
Alderley shone out again in the Bishop. "I remember," says an
eye-witness, "seeing Bishop Stanley, on a memorable occasion, come out
of the Great Hall of St. Andrew's, Norwich. The Chartist mob, who lined
the street, saluted the active, spare little Bishop with hooting and
groans. He came out alone and unattended till he was followed by me and
my brother, determined, as the saying is, 'to see him safe home,' for
the mob was highly excited and brutal. Bishop Stanley marched along ten
yards, then turned sharp round and fixed his eagle eyes on the mob, and
then marched ten yards more and turned round again rapidly and gave the
same hawk-like look."
His words and actions must often have been startling to his
contemporaries; when temperance was a new cause he publicly spoke in
support of the Roman Catholic Father Mathew, who had promoted it in
Ireland; when the idea of any education for the masses was not
universally accepted he advocated admitting the children of Dissenters
to the National Schools; and when the stage had not the position it now
holds, he dared to offer hospitality to one of the most distinguished of
its representatives, Jenny Lind, to mark his respect for her life and
influence.
For all this he was bitterly censured, but his kindly spirit and
friendly intercourse with his clergy smoothed the way through apparently
insurmountable difficulties, and his powerful aid was ever at hand in
any benevolent movement to advise and organise means of help.
In his home at Norwich the Bishop and Mrs. Stanley delighted to welcome
guests of every shade of opinion, and one of them, a member of a
well-known Quaker family, has recorded her impression of her host's
conversation. "The Bishop talks, darting from one subject to another,
like one impatient of delay, amusing and pleasant," and he is described
on coming to Norwich as having "a step as quick, a voice as firm, a
power of enduring fatigue almost as unbroken as when he traversed his
parish in earlier days or climbed the precipices of the Alps."
In his public life the liveliness of his own interest in scientific
pursuits, the ardour with which he would hail any new discovery, the
vividness of his own observation of Nature would illustrate with an
unexpected brilliancy the worn-out topics of a formal speech. Few who
were present at the meeting when the Borneo Mission was first proposed
to the London public in 1847 can forget the strain of naval ardour with
which the Bishop offered his heartfelt tribute of moral respect and
admiration to the heroic exertions of Sir James Brooke.
It was his highest pleasure to bear witness to the merits or to
contribute to the welfare of British seamen. He seized every opportunity
of addressing them on their moral and religious duties, and many were
the rough sailors whose eyes were dimmed with tears among the
congregations of the crews of the _Queen_ and the _Rattlesnake_, when he
preached on board those vessels at Plymouth, whither he had accompanied
his eldest son, Captain Owen Stanley, to witness his embarkation on his
last voyage.
"The sermon," so the Admiral told Dean Stanley twenty years afterwards,
"was never forgotten. The men were so crowded that they almost sat on
one another's shoulders, with such attention and admiration that they
could scarcely restrain a cheer."
For twelve years his presence was felt as a power for good through the
length and breadth of his diocese; and after his death, in September,
1849, his memory was long loved and revered.
"I felt as if a sunbeam had passed through my parish," wrote a clergyman
from a remote corner of his diocese, after a visit from him, "and had
left me to rejoice in its genial and cheerful warmth. From that day I
would have died to serve him; and I believe that not a few of my humble
flock were animated by the same kind of feeling."
His yearly visits to his former parish of Alderley were looked forward
to by those he had known and loved during his long parochial
ministrations as the greatest pleasure of their lives.
"I have been," he writes (in the last year of his life), "in various
directions over the parish, visiting many welcome faces, laughing with
the living, weeping over the dying. It is gratifying to see the cordial
familiarity with which they receive me, and Norwich clergy would
scarcely know me by cottage fires, talking over old times with their
hands clasped in mine as an old and dear friend."
Under the light which streams through the stained glass of his own
cathedral the remains of Bishop Stanley rest in the thoroughfare of the
great congregation.
"When we were children," said a grey-haired Norfolk rector this very
year, "our mother never allowed us to walk upon the stone covering
Bishop Stanley's grave. I have never forgotten it, and would not walk
upon it even now."
"We pass; the path that each man trod
Is dim, or will be dim, with weeds:
What fame is left for human deeds
In endless age? It rests with God."
[Illustration: _P. Green, pinx circa 1800. Emery Walker Ph. Sc._
_Edward Stanley._]
CHAPTER I
NEW FRANCE AND OLD EUROPE
Rouen and its theatres--Painted windows--Paris--Costumes _à la
Française_--The guillotine--Geneva--Vetturino
travelling--Italy--Spain--The Ship _John_ of Leith--Gibraltar.
In June, 1802, Edward Stanley started on the first of those foreign
journeys which, throughout his life, continued to be his favourite form
of holiday.
He had just left Cambridge, having obtained a brilliant degree, and
before taking Orders he set out with his college friend, Edward
Hussey,[3] on the Grand Tour which was then considered necessary to
complete a liberal education.
They were fortunate in the moment of their journey, for the Treaty of
Amiens, which had been concluded only a few months before, had enabled
Englishmen to tour safely in France for the first time for many years;
and every scene in France was full of thrilling interest. The marks of
the Reign of Terror were still plainly to be seen, and the new order of
things which the First Consul had inaugurated was only just beginning.
It was an epoch-making journey to a young man fresh from college, and
Edward Stanley was deeply impressed by what he saw.
He could compare his own experiences with those of his brother and
father, who had been in France before the Revolution, and of his
sister-in-law, Maria Josepha, who had travelled there just before the
Reign of Terror; and in view of the destruction which had taken place
since then, he was evidently convinced that Napoleon's iron hand was the
greatest boon to the country.
He and his companion had the good fortune to leave France before the
short interval of peace ended abruptly, and they were therefore saved
from the fate of hundreds of their friends and fellow-travellers who had
thronged across the Channel in 1802, and who were detained by Napoleon
for years against their will.
Edward Stanley and Edward Hussey left France at the end of June, and
went on to Switzerland, Italy, and finally to Spain, where the
difficulties and dangers which they met, reveal the extraordinary dearth
of personal comfort and civilised habits among that nation at the time.
The dangers and discomforts did not, however, interfere with the
interest and pleasure of the writer who describes them. Then and ever
after, travelling was Edward Stanley's delight, and he took any
adventure in the spirit of the French song--
"Je suis touriste
Quel gai métier."
His letters to his father and brother show that he lost no opportunity
of getting information and of recording what he saw; and he began on
this journey the first of a long series of sketchbooks, by which he
illustrated his later journeys so profusely.
_Edward Stanley to his Father, Sir John T. Stanley, Bart._
ROUEN, _June 11, 1802_.
MY DEAR FATHER,--You have already heard that I arrived here, & have been
fortunate in every thing since I left England. Our passage from Brighton
to Dieppe was short and pleasant, and so was our stay at Dieppe, which
we left the morning after we arrived in it. I never saw France before
the Revolution, & therefore cannot judge of the Contrasted appearance of
its towns, but this I can safely say, that I never before saw such
strong marks of Poverty both in the houses & Inhabitants. I have as yet
seen nothing like a Gentleman; probably many may affect the dress and
manners of the lower Orders, in order to screen themselves & may
consider that an outward show of Poverty is the only way of securing
what Riches they have. I can conceive nothing so melancholy.
When I saw fine seats without Windows or with shattered Roofs, &
everywhere falling to decay, I could not help thinking of their
unfortunate Owners, who, even if they were lucky enough to be reinstated
in their possessions, might fear to repair their Places, lest an
Appearance of comfort might tempt the Government to seize their Effects.
The only Buildings at all tolerable are the Barracks, which in general
are large and well taken care of, & plenty of them there are in every
town and village. Every Person is here a Soldier, ready to turn out at a
moment's warning. This Town is in a flourishing State at present, tho'
during the war not a single ship made its appearance in its Ports; now
there are a great number of Vessels, chiefly Dutch. The Trade is Cotton,
for the Manufactory of Stuffs and Handkerchiefs. It is said to be one of
the dearest towns in France; certainly I have not found things very
cheap. We were at the Play last night. An Opera called "La Dot," and an
after piece called "Blaise & Bullet" were performed. The Actors were
capital, at Drury Lane they could not have acted better. The House is
very large for a Country Theatre and very pretty, but so shockingly
filthy and offensive, that I wondered any Person could go often, but
habit, I suppose, reconciles everything. There were a great many
officers in the Boxes, a haughty set of beings, who treat their
Compatriotes in a very scurvy way. They are the Kings of the place and
do what they please. Indeed, we had a fine Specimen of Liberty during
the Performances. An Actress had been sent to Rouen from Paris, a
wretched Performer she was, but from Paris she came, and the Managers
were obliged to accept her & make her act. The Consequence was, she soon
got hissed, and a Note was thrown on the Stage; whatever it was they
were not permitted to read or make it public till they had shewn it to
the Officer of Police, who in the present Case would not let them read
it. The hissing was, however, continued from Corners of the House, & one
man who sate near us talked in a high style about the People being
imposed on, when in the middle of his Speech I saw this Man of Liberty
jump out of the Box and disappear in an Instant. I opened the Box door
to see what was the cause, when lo! the Lobby was filled with Soldiers,
with their Bayonets fix'd, and the officer was looking about for any
Person who might dare to whistle or hiss, and silent and contented were
the Audience the rest of the Performance. I cannot help mentioning a
Speech I heard this very evening at the Play. A Man was sitting near a
Lady & very angry he was, & attempted often to hiss, but was for some
time kept quiet by the Lady. At last he lost all Patience and exclaimed,
"Ma Foi, Madame, Je ferai ici comme si jétais en Angleterre où on fait
tout ce qu'on plait." And away he went to hiss; with what effect his
determination a l'Angloise was attended, I have mentioned. I afterwards
entered into conversation with the Lady, & when she told me about the
Police Officer not giving permission to read the note, she added,
looking at us, "to you, Gentlemen, this must be a second Comedy." Last
night (Sunday) I went to a Fête about a mile from the Town; we paid 1s.
3d. each. It concluded with a grand Firework. It was a sort of Vauxhall.
In one part of the Gardens they were dancing Cotillons, in another
swinging. In another part bands of Music. I was never so much
entertained as with the Dancers; most of them were Children. One little
set in a Cotillon danced in a Style I could not have fancied possible;
you will think I am telling a _Traveller's_ Story when I tell you I
thought they performed nearly as well as I could have seen at the Opera.
Here, as at the Theatre, Soldiers kept every body in awe; a strong party
of Dragoons were posted round the Gardens with their horses saddled
close at hand ready to act. I din'd yesterday at a Table d'Hôte, with
five French Officers. In my life I never saw such ill bred Blackguards,
dirty in their way of eating, overbearing in their Conversation, tho'
they never condescended to address themselves to us, and more proud and
aristocratical than any of the _ci-devant Noblesse_ could ever have
been. From this Moment I believe all the Accounts I have heard from our
officers of the French officers who were prisoners during the War. They
were always insolent, and excepting in some few cases, ungratefull in
the extreme for any kindness shewn to them.
[Illustration: THE PRISON OF THE TEMPLE, PARIS, JUNE, 1802.
_To face p. 31._]
PARIS, _June 17th_.
The Day before yesterday I arrived in this Metropolis. We left Rouen in
a Diligence & had a pleasant Journey; the Country we passed over was
throughout extremely fertile; whatever Scarcity exists at present in
France, it must be of short duration, as the Harvest promises to be
abundant, and as every Field is corn land, the quantity of Grain will be
immense. Government has indeed now taken every precaution. The Ports of
Rouen & Dieppe were filled with Ships from Embden & Dantzig with Corn.
Our Diligence was accompanied all the Night by a Guard of Dragoons, and
we passed every now and then parties of Foot Soldiers on the Watch. The
reason was, that the road had lately been infested with Robbers, who
attacked the Public Carriages in great numbers, sometimes to the Amount
of 40 together. They in general behaved well to the Passengers,
requiring only any Money belonging to Government which might happen to
be in the Carriage. At present as the Leader is taken and the Band
dispersed, there is no Danger, but it is a good excuse to keep a Number
of Troops in that part of the Country. We entered Paris by St. Denis,
but the fine Church and Royal Palace are not now as they were in your
time. The Former is in part unroofed and considerably damaged--the
latter is a Barrack and from its outward appearance seems to have
suffered much in the Revolution. The City of Paris on entering it by no
means strikes a stranger. In your time it must have been but tolerable,
now it is worse, as every other house seems to be falling down or to be
deserted. We have taken our abode in the Rue de Vivienne at the Hôtel de
Boston, a central Situation and the house tolerably dear. The poor
Hussey suffered so much from a Nest of Buggs the first night, that he
after enduring them to forage on his body for an Hour, left his Bed &
passed the night on a sofa. A propos, I must beg to inform Mr. Hugh
Leycester that I paid Attention to the Conveyances on the road & think
that he will have no reason to complain of them; the vehicles are not
quite so good as in England nor are the Horses, but both are still very
tolerable. The Inns I slept at were very good, and the roads by no means
bad. I have been to a Play every Night since my arrival in Paris and
shall continue so to do till I have seen all the theatres. The first
evening I went to the "Théâtre de la République"; I am told it is the
best. At least the first Actors performed there. It is not to be
compared with any of ours in style of fitting up. The want of light
which first strikes a Stranger's eye on entering a foreign Play-house
has its Advantage. It shews off the Performers and induces the Audience
to pay more Attention to ye Stage, but the brilliant Effect we are used
to find on entering our Theatres is wanting. This House is not fitted up
with any taste. I thought the theatre at Rouen preferable. The famous
Talma, the Kemble, acted in a Tragedy, & Mme. Petit, the Mrs. Siddons
of Paris, performed. The former, I think, must have seen Kemble, as he
resembles him both in person and style of acting, but I did not admire
him so much. In his silent Acting, however, he was very great. Mme.
Petit acted better than any tragic Actress I have ever seen, excepting
Mrs. Siddons. After the Play last Night I went to the Frascati, a sort
of Vauxhall where you pay nothing on entering, but are expected to take
some refreshments. This, Mr. Palmer told me, was the Lounge of the Beau
Monde, who were all to be found here after the Opera & Plays. We have
nothing of the sort in England, therefore I shall not attempt to
describe it. We staid here about an hour. The Company was numerous, & I
suppose the best, at least it was better than any I had seen at the
Theatres or in the Walks, but it appeared to me to be very bad. The Men
I shall say nothing more of, they are all the same. They come to all
Places in dirty Neckcloths or Pocket Handkerchiefs tied round their
necks & most of them have filthy great Coats & Boots, in short, Dress
amongst the Bucks (& I am told that within this Month or two they are
very much improved) seems to be quite out of the Question. As for the
Ladies, O mon Dieu! Madame Récamier's[4] Dress at Boodles was by no
means extraordinary. My sister can describe that and then you may form
some idea of them. By what I can judge from outward appearance, the
Morals of Paris must be at a very low ebb. I may perhaps see more of
them, when I go to the Opera & Parties. I have a thousand things more to
say, but have no room. This Letter has been written at such out of the
way times & by little bits at a time, that I know not how you will
connect it, but I have not a moment to spare in the regular Course of
the Day. It is now between 6 & 7 o'Clock in the Morning, and as I cannot
find my Cloaths am sitting in a Dress à la Mode d'une Dame Française
till Charles comes up with them. Paris is full of English, amongst
others I saw Montague Matthews at the Frascati. I shall stay here till
5th July, as my chance of seeing Buonaparte depends on my staying till
4th, when he reviews the Consular Guard. He is a fine fellow by all
accounts; a Military Government when such a head as his manages
everything cannot be called a Grievance. Indeed, it is productive of so
much order and regularity, that I begin not to dislike it so much. At
the Theatres you have no disturbance. In the streets Carriages are kept
in order--in short, it is supreme and seems to suit this Country vastly
well, but God forbid I should ever witness it in England. You may write
to me and tell others so to do till the 25th of June. Adieu; I cannot
tell when I shall write again. This you know is a Family Epistle,
therefore Farewell to you all.
ED. STANLEY.
I have just paid a visit to Madame de D. She received me very
graciously, & strongly pressed me to stay till 14th of July to be
present at the Grand Day. She says Paris is not now worth seeing, but
then every Person will be in Town. If there is no other way of seeing
Buonaparte I believe I shall stay--but I do not wish it--I shall prefer
Geneva.
_Edward Stanley to his brother, J. T. Stanley._
HOTEL DE BOSTON, RUE VIVIENNE,
_June 21, 1802_.
MY DEAR BROTHER,-- ... I sailed from Brighton on the evening of 8th and
was wafted by a fine Breeze towards this Coast, which we made early on
the morning of 9th, but owing to the tide, which had drifted us too much
to leeward of Dieppe, we were unable to land before noon. We were
carried before the Officer of the municipality, who after taking down
our names, ages, & destination, left us to ramble about at pleasure.
Whatever Dieppe might have been before the Revolution, it is now a
melancholy-looking place. Large houses falling to ruin. Inhabitants
poor, Streets full of Soldiers, & Churches turned into Stables,
Barracks, or Magazines. We staid there but one night & then proceeded in
one of their Diligences to Rouen. These Conveyances you of course have
often seen; they are not as Speedy in their motion as an English Mail
Coach, or as easy as a Curricle, but we have found them very convenient,
& shall not complain of our travelling accommodation if we are always
fortunate enough to meet with these vehicles. At Rouen we staid four
days, as the Town is large and well worth seeing; I then made an attempt
to procure you some painted glass; as almost all the Churches and all
the Convents are destroyed, their fine windows are neglected, & the
panes broken or carried off by almost every person. The _Stable_ from
whence our Diligence started had some beautiful windows, and had I
thought of it in time I think I might have sent you some. As it was I
went to the owner of the Churches & asked him if he would sell any of
the windows. Now tho' ever since he has had possession of them Everybody
has been permitted to demolish at pleasure, he no sooner found that a
Stranger was anxious to procure what to him was of no value, & what he
had hitherto thought worth nothing, than he began to think he might take
advantage & therefore told me that he would give me an answer in a few
days if I would wait till he could see what they were worth. As I was
going the next morning I could not hear the result, but I think you
could for one guinea purchase nearly a whole Church window, at least it
may be worth your while to send to Liverpool to know if any Ship is at
any time going there. The Proprietor of these Churches is a Banker, by
name Tezart; he lives in la Rue aux Ours.
I arrived in Paris on the 15th, and intend staying even till the 14th of
July if I cannot before then see the chief Consul. Hitherto I have been
unfortunate; I have in vain attended at the Thuilleries when the
Consular guard is relieved, and seated myself opposite his box at the
Opera. On the 4th of July, however, there is a Review of his Guard, when
he always appears, then I shall do my utmost to get a view of him. I
cannot be introduced as I have not been at our Court, and no King was
ever more fond of Court Etiquette than Buonaparte. He resides in the
Thuilleries; opposite to his windows is the place de Carousel, which he
has Separated from the great Area by a long Iron railing with three
Gates. On each side of the 2 side Gates are placed the famous brazen
horses from Venice, the middle Gate has 2 Lodges, where are stationed
Horse Guards. Above this Gate are four Gilt Spears on which are perched
the Cock & a Civic wreath which I at first took for the Roman Eagle,
borne before their Consuls, resembling it in every other respect. These
Gates are shut every night and also on every Review day. Paris, like all
the Country, swarms with Soldiers; in Every Street there is a Barrack.
In Paris alone there are upwards of 15 thousand men. I must say nothing
of the Government. It is highly necessary in France for every person,
particularly Strangers, to be careful in delivering their opinions; I
can only say that the _Slavery_ of it is infinitely more to my taste
than the _Freedom_ of France. The public Exhibitions (and indeed almost
Every thing is public) are on a scale of Liberality which should put
England to the blush. Everything is open without money. The finest
library I ever saw is open Daily to Every person. You have but to ask
for any book, & you are furnished with it, and accommodated with table,
pens, ink, & paper. The Louvre, the finest Collection of pictures and
Statues in the world, is likewise open, & not merely open to view. It is
filled, excepting on the public days, with artists who are at liberty to
copy anything they please. Where in England can we boast of anything
like this? Our British Museum is only to be seen by interest, & then
shewn in a very cursory manner. Our Public Libraries at the Universities
are equally difficult of access. It is the most politic thing the
Government could have done. The Arts are here encouraged in a most
liberal manner. Authors, Painters, Sculptors, and, in short, all persons
in France, have opportunities of improving themselves which can not be
found in any other Country in the World, not even in Britain. You may
easily conceive that I who am fond of painting was most highly
Entertained in viewing the Great Gallery of the Louvre, & yet you will,
I am sure, think my taste very deficient when I tell you that I do not
admire the finest pictures of Raphael, Titian, Guido, and Paul Veronese,
so much as I do those of Rubens, Vandyck, & le Brun, nor the landscapes
of Claude and Poussin so much as Vernet's. Rembrandt, Gerard Dow & his
pupils Mieris and Metsu please me more than any other artists. In the
whole Collection they have but one of Salvator's, but that one, I think,
is preferable to all Raphael's. I have not yet seen statues enough to be
judge of their beauties. The Apollo of Belvidere & the celebrated
Laocoon lose, therefore, much of their Excellence when seen by me. There
is still a fine Collection in the Palace of Versailles, but the view of
that once Royal Palace excites the most melancholy ideas. The furniture
was all sold by auction, & nothing is left but the walls and their
pictures. The Gardens are much neglected, & will soon, unless the Consul
again makes it a royal residence, be quite ruined. You have, I daresay,
often heard that the Morals & Society of Paris were very bad; indeed,
you have heard nothing but the truth. As for the men, they are the
dirtiest set of fellows I ever saw, and most of them, especially the
Officers, very unlike Gentlemen. The dress of the women, with few
exceptions, is highly indecent; in London, even in Drury Lane, I have
seen few near so bad. Before I left England, I had heard, but never
believed, that some Ladies paraded the streets in men's Clothes. It is
singular that in the first genteel-looking person I spoke to in Paris to
ask my way, I was answered by what I then perceived a lady in Breeches &
boots, since when I have seen several at the Theatres, at the Frascati &
fashionable lounges of the evening, & in the Streets and public walks! I
have not heard from you since I left England. Excepting the letter which
was forwarded from Grosvenor Place. I hope to hear at Geneva, where I
shall go as soon as the great Consul will permit me by shewing himself.
The Country is in the finest state possible, and their weather most
favourable. They have had a scarcity of corn lately, but the approaching
Harvest will most assuredly remove that. Adieu; I hope Mrs. Stanley has
already received a very trifling present from me; I only sent it because
it was classic wood. I mean the necklace made of Milton's mulberry-tree.
I brought the wood from Christ's College Garden, in Cambridge, where
Milton himself planted it.
Believe me,
Yours sincerely,
EDWD. STANLEY.
_From Edward Stanley to his Father and Mother._
LYONS, _July 20, 1802_.
I shall not write you a very long letter as I intend to send you a more
particular account of myself from Geneva, for which place we propose
setting out to-morrow, not by the Diligence, but by the Vetturino, a
mode of travelling which, of course, you are well acquainted with, being
the usual and almost only method practised throughout Italy unless a
person has his own carriage. I am to pay £3 10s. for ourselves and
Suite, but not including bed and provisions. South of the Alps these are
agreed for.
After every endeavour to see Buonaparte had proved vain, on the 6th of
July we quitted Paris in a Cabriolet. All this night, and especially
the next day, we thought we should be broiled to death; the thermometer
was at 95 the noon of July 7th; as you relish that, you may have some
idea of the Luxury you would have enjoyed with us.
We arrived at Troyes on the evening of the 7th, an old town in
Champagne. People civil and excellent Living, as the Landlord was a
_ci-devant_ Head cook to a convent of Benedictines, but Hussey and
Charles were almost devoured in the Night by our old enemies the Bugs.
Hussey was obliged to change his room and sleep all next day. I escaped
without the least visit, and I am persuaded that if a famine wasted the
Bugs of the whole Earth, they would sooner perish than touch me.
We left Troyes early on the morning of the 9th, arrived at Chatillon at
four, and stayed there all night, for the Diligences do not travel so
fast as in England. We left it at four the next morning, Hussey, as
usual smarting, and I very little refreshed by sleep, as owing to a
Compound of Ducks and Chickens who kept up a constant chorus within five
yards of my bed, a sad noise in the kitchen from which I was barely
separated, Dogs barking, Waggon Bells ringing, &c., I could scarcely
close my eyes.
At Dijon, beautiful Dijon, we arrived on the Evening of the 10th. Had I
known it had been so sweet a Town I should have stayed longer, but we
had taken our places to Châlons and were obliged to pass on. You, I
believe, staid some time there, but, alas! how different now! The Army
of rescue was encamped for some time in its neighbourhood, and the many
respectable families who lived in or near it rendered it a sad prey to
the hand of Robespierre. Its Churches and Convents are in a deplorable
state, even as those of this still more unfortunate Town. The best
Houses are shut up, and its finest Buildings are occupied by the
Military. We left on the morning of the 11th, travelled safely (except a
slight breakdown at our journey's end) to Châlons sur Saône, and on the
11th went by the water-diligence to Macon, where we stopped to sleep. We
arrived at dusk, and as we were in a dark staircase exploring our way
and speaking English, we heard a voice say, "This way, Sir; here is the
supper." We were quite rejoiced to hear an English voice, particularly
in such a place.
We soon met the speaker, and passed a most pleasant Hour with him. He
proved to be a Passenger like ourselves in the Diligence from Lyons
which met ours here at the Common resting-place. He was a Surgeon of the
Staff, returning from Egypt, by name Shute. We all three talked
together, and as loud as we could; the Company, I believe, thought us
strange Beings. We told him what we could of England in a short time, he
of the South, and we exchanged every Species of information, and were
sorry when it was necessary to part.
[Illustration: THE GUILLOTINE AT CHALON-SUR-SAÔNE.
_To face p. 43._]
We arrived at Lyons on the 14th, the Day of the Grand Fête. We saw the
Town Hall illuminated, and a Review on the melancholy Plains of
Buttereaux, the common Tomb of so many Lyonnese. Here we have remained
since, but shall probably be at Geneva on the 23rd. I lodge at the Hotel
de Parc looking into the Place de Ferreant.
The Landlady, to my great surprise, spoke to me in English very
fluently. She is also a very excellent Spaniard. She has seen better
days, her husband having been a Merchant, but the Revolution destroyed
him. She was Prisoner for some time at Liverpool, taken by a Privateer
belonging to Tarleton and Rigge, who, I am sorry to say, did not behave
quite so handsomely as they should, the private property not having been
restored.
Of all the Towns I have seen this has suffered most. All the Châteaux
and Villas in its most beautiful Environs are shut up. The fine Square
of St. Louis le Grand, then Belle Cour, now Place Buonaparte, is knocked
to pieces; the fine Statue is broken and removed, and nothing left that
could remind you of what it was.
I have been witness to a scene which, of course, my curiosity as a
Traveller would not let me pass over, but which I hope not to see
again--an Execution on the Guillotine. Charles saw a man suffer at
Châlons; we did not know till it was over, but the Machine was still
standing, and the marks of the Execution very recent. On looking out of
my window the morning after our arrival here, I saw the dreadful
Instrument in the Place de Ferreant, and on inquiry found that five men
were to be beheaded in the morning and two in the evening. They deserved
their fate; they had robbed some Farmhouses and committed some
cruelties. In England, however, they would probably have escaped, as the
evidence was chiefly presumptive. They were brought to the Scaffold from
the Prison, tied each with his arms behind him and again to each other;
they were attended by a Priest, not, however, in black, and a party of
soldiers. The time of execution of the whole five did not exceed five
minutes. Of all situations in the world, I can conceive of none half so
terrible as that of the last Prisoner. He saw his companions ascend one
after another, heard each fatal blow, and saw each Body thrown aside to
make room for him. I shall never forget his countenance when he
stretched out his neck on the fatal board. He shut his eyes on looking
down where the heads of his companions had fallen, and instantly his
face turned from ghastly paleness to a deep red, and the wire was
touched and he was no more. Of all Deaths it is far the most easy; not a
convulsive struggle could be perceived after the blow. The sight is
horrid in the extreme, though not awful, as no ceremony is used to make
it so. Those who have daily seen 200 suffer without the least ceremony
or trial get hardened to the sight.
The mode of Execution in England is not so speedy certainly nor so
horrid, but it is conducted with a degree of Solemnity that must impress
the mind most forcibly. I did not see the two who suffered in the
evening, the morning's business was quite enough to satisfy my
curiosity.
The next Morning I saw a punishment a degree less shocking, though I
think the Prisoner's fate was little better than those of the day
before. He was seated on a Scaffold in the same place for Public View,
there to remain for six hours and then to be imprisoned in irons for 18
years, a Term (as he is 41) I think he will not survive.
What with the immediate effects of the Siege and events that followed,
the Town has suffered so much in its Buildings and inhabitants, that I
think it will never recover. The Manufactories of silk are just
beginning to shoot up by slow degrees. Formerly they afforded employment
to 40,000 men, now not above half that number can be found, and they
cannot earn so much. Were I a Lyonese I should wish to plant the plains
of Buttereaux with cypress-trees and close them in with rails. The Place
had been a scene of too much horror to remain open for Public amusement.
The fine Hôpital de la Charité, against which the besiegers directed
their heaviest cannon in spite of the Black ensign, which it is
customary to hoist over buildings of that nature during a Siege, is much
damaged, though scarcely so much as I should have expected. The Romantic
Castle of the Pierre Suisse is no longer to be found, it was destroyed
early in the troubles together with most of the Roman Antiquities round
Lyons. I yesterday dined with two more Englishmen at the Table d'hôte;
they were from the South; one, from his conversation a Navy officer, had
been absent seven years, and had been in the Garrison of Porte Ferrajo
in the Isle of Elba, the other an Egyptian Hero. There is also a Colonel
from the same place whose name I know not.
I heard it was an easy thing to be introduced to the Pope,[5] if letters
are to be had for our Minister, whose name is Fagan, or something like
it. Now, as I may if I can get an opportunity when at Geneva to pay a
visit to Rome and Florence previous to passing the Pyrenees, I should
like a letter to this Mr. Fagan, if one can be got. As Buonaparte's Pope
is not, I believe, so particular as the Hero himself with regard to
introductions, I may perhaps be presented to him. I look forward with
inexpressible pleasure to my arrival at Geneva, to find myself amongst
old friends and to meet with, I hope, an immense collection of letters.
The Vineyards promise to be very abundant; of course we tasted some of
the best when in Burgundy and Champagne. What a country that is! The
corn to the East of Paris is not so promising as that in Normandy. The
frosts which we felt in May have extended even more to the South than to
this Town. The apple-trees of Normandy have suffered most, and the vines
in the Northern parts of France have also been damaged.... I shall go
from Geneva to Genoa, and there hold a council of war.
GENEVA.
...Between Lyons and Geneva we supped with the Passengers of a
Vetturino. Two of these were Officers in the French Service, one of them
a Swiss, the other a Frenchman. The conversation soon fell upon
Politics, in which I did not choose to join, but was sufficiently
entertained in hearing the Discourse. Both agreed in abominating the
present state of Affairs. The Swiss hated the Consul, because he
destroyed his Country, the other because he was too like a King. Both
were Philosophers, and each declared himself to be a Moralist. The
Frenchman was by far the most vehement of the two, and the Swiss seemed
to take much pleasure in leading him on. His philosophy seemed to be
drawn from a source equally pure with his Morality; assuming for his
Motto his first and favourite Maxim, "que tous les hommes sont égaux par
les lois de la Nature," &c., he thought himself justified in wishing
Buonaparte (I was going to say) at the Devil (but I soon found out that
the existence of that Gentleman was a matter of great doubt with the
Philosopher) for daring to call himself the Head of the French Republic.
His hatred of Power was only equalled by his aversion to the English,
whom he seemed to abhor from the bottom of his heart, so much so, that
when I attempted to defend the First Consul, he dashed out with a
Torrent of abuse, and ended by saying, "Et enfin c'est lui qui a fait la
paix avec l'Angleterre."
I was for some time in doubt what part of the Revolution he preferred,
but by defending Robespierre, he soon gave me an Idea of his Love of
Liberty, Morality, Equality, and so forth. I was sorry he retired so
soon after Supper, as I never was more entertained in my life in so
short a time as with this little Fellow, as singular in his Figure and
Dress as in his Manner, and he contrived to be always eating as well as
talking.
_Edward Stanley to his brother J, T. Stanley._
_Argonauta_, OFF HYÈRES,
_Sept. 29, 1802._
MY DEAR BROTHER,--Before I left Geneva I firmly intended writing to you,
but as I left it unexpectedly and sooner than I intended I had not time,
but this, and all my adventures till I left it, I hope you have already
heard, as I wrote two letters, one to my Father, the other to my Mother
before I quitted Geneva. You will no doubt be Surprised, and perhaps
envy my present situation. Where do you think I am? Why, truly, writing
on a cot between two 24-pounders in a Spanish 84. You will wonder, I am
sure, at seeing the date of this letter, and perhaps wish to know by
what good fortune I found a berth in a Spanish man-of-war, an Event
which I little expected when I wrote last. I shall begin my story from
Geneva, and you shall hear my adventures to the present moment. We left
Geneva in a Vetturino for Turin, a Journey which took up 8 days longer
than it naturally should have done, but our Coachman was taken ill, & we
were on his account obliged to travel slowly. But I was not impatient,
as you will know the Scenery is beautiful; we crossed Mount Cenis,
which, after St. Bernard's, cannot be called a difficult pass. At Turin
we stayed 3 days. It is now a melancholy Town, without commerce, &
decreasing daily in population. The celebrated Jourdan[6] is the ruler
of the place, & with his wife lives in the King's Palace. From Turin we
went to Genoa, passing through Country not equal in Scenery, but
infinitely more interesting than that between Geneva & Turin, every step
almost having been the scene of battle, and every Town the Object of a
siege. But the most interesting spot of all was the plain of Marengo,
near Alessandria. As we travelled in the Diligence I had not so good an
opportunity of viewing it as I should have had in a Vetturino, but we
stopped a short time to see the monument which is raised to commemorate
the victory; it is erected near 2 remarkable spots, one where Desaix[7]
fell, the other the House from which Buonaparte wrote an account of the
event to the Directory.
We passed also thro' Novi, every House in which is marked by Shot; that
unfortunate Town has been three times pillaged during the war. We
arrived at Genoa on the 10th of Septr., in my opinion the most
magnificent Town for its size I ever saw. The Palaces are beyond
conception beautiful, or rather were, for the French Troops are not at
this moment admitted within the Gates; they are quartered in the Suburb
in great numbers. As for the new Government, it is easily seen who is at
the head of it. There is a Doge, to be sure, but his orders come all
from Paris. While we were waiting there expecting a ship to sail to
Barcelona, the _Medusa_, English Frigate, came in, and amongst its
passengers who came with her we found a Cambridge acquaintance, who
advised us to go without delay to Leghorn as the Spanish Squadron was
waiting there for the King of Etruria[8] in order to carry him to
Barcelona. Fortunately the next day an English Brig was going, & in her
we took our passages; we were fortunate enough to receive a large packet
of letters from England a few hours before she sailed, which had she
sailed at the time the Captain intended we should have missed. Will you
let my sisters know that they arrived safe? I am not without hopes of
making some use of the interesting letters to Italy, tho' I am now
steering to the westward. After a good passage of two days we arrived at
Leghorn and found the Spaniards still there. As soon as I landed I
delivered a letter to a Mr. Callyer, a Liverpool Gentleman who is
settled there, & by his means was introduced to the Admiral's first
Lieut., who promised to secure me a berth in some of the ships. In
short, here I am in a very fine ship, tho' a horrid sailer. I have now
given you a short sketch of my tour till arriving at Leghorn; I have
only to say something of Leghorn and the _Argonauta_. The Town has
suffered very much by the war, supported nearly as it was by its
Commerce with England. The inhabitants saw with little pleasure a French
army take possession of the place & drive away the English. They still
have a strong force in the town--upwards of 2,000--and its
fortifications have been dismantled. It is singular enough to see the
French and Tuscan colours flying together on the same staff. When we
entered the port the Tuscan Ensign was becalmed & the French flag was
flying _by itself_. I was much grieved not to be able to visit Florence
when so near it, but as the Squadron was in daily expectation of sailing
I did not venture to be absent for 4 days, which the Journey would have
required. I was therefore obliged to content myself with a view of Pisa,
which I would not have missed on any account. The leaning Tower is a
curiosity in itself sufficient to induce a stranger to make a long
journey to visit it. Here the King of Etruria lived and was hourly
expected to set out for Leghorn. But his health, as it was believed, was
in so precarious a State that it was sometimes reported that he would
not go at all. The Queen, indeed, was in a very critical state, and were
it not that her children, she being an Infanta of Spain, are entitled to
a certain sum of money by no means small, provided they were born in
Spain, it would have been madness in her to have undertaken the voyage;
indeed, I think it highly probable that a young Prince will make his
appearance ere we arrive at Barcelona. After having spent a longer time
than I liked at Leghorn, which has nothing curious to recommend it, at
length it was given out that on the 26th the K. would certainly arrive
from Pisa and embark as soon as possible. Accordingly at 6 o'Clock on
that day all the houses were ornamented in the Italian style by a
display of different coloured Streamers, etc., from the windows, & His
Majesty entered the Town. Had I been a King I should have been not
altogether pleased with my reception. He appeared in the Balcony of the
Grand Duke's Palace, no one cried, "Viva Ludovico I!" He went to the
Theatre the same Evening, which was illuminated on the occasion, &, of
course, much crowded. I do not think our opera could have boasted a
finer display of Diamonds than I saw that Evening in the Ladies' heads,
but, be it remembered, that there are 7,000 Jews in Leghorn, not one of
whom is poor; some are reported to be worth a million. Many of the
Italians are also very rich. Next day we were informed that it was
necessary to repair on board our ship, as the King was to go early on
the 20th. The Naval Scene received an addition on 26th by the arrival of
2 French frigates from Porto Ferrajo. They had carried a fresh garrison
there & landed 500 men of the former one at Leghorn; they marched
immediately, as it was said, to garrison Florence. On the 27th the
Spaniards and French, the only ships of war in the roads, saluted, were
manned and dressed. At Eleven o'Clock of the 27th (after having again
seen the K. at the Opera) in the Launch of the _Argonauta_ we left
Leghorn & went on board, for the first time in my life, to spend I hope
many days in so large a ship. She was one of that unfortunate Squadron
which came forth from Cadiz to convey home Adl. Linois[9] & his prize
the _Hannibal_, after our unsuccessful attack in Algeciras bay. This
Ship suffered little; she was then a better sailer than she is now, or
most probably she would not be at present in the Service of Spain. Early
on the morning of the 28th the Marines were on the deck. It blew fresh
from the shore, & it was doubted whether the K. would venture; at 8
o'Clock, however, the Royal barge was seen coming out of the Mole. The
Admiral's Ship, _La Reyna Louisa_, gave the signal & at the instant
Every Ship fired 3 royal salutes. The Effect was very beautiful; we were
the nearest to the Admiral, nearer the land were the 2 other Spanish
frigates, & abreast of us the two French Ships. They were all dressed,
and as the King passed near them they were manned and three cheers were
given. The King's boat came first, then the Queen's. After them followed
the Consuls of the different Nations who were at Leghorn, & after them a
boat from each of the Ships. There were besides a great number of other
boats & Ships sailing about. Soon after the King had arrived on board
the _Reyna Louisa_, of 120 guns, the Signal was made for preparing to
Sail, & soon after the Signal for Sailing. We all got under weigh, but
as our Ship was a bad sailer we had the mortification of seeing
ourselves left far behind in a short time. We have had nothing but light
winds ever since, & for the last two days contrary, but I am not in the
smallest degree impatient to get to Barcelona. The Novelty of Scene,
more especially as it is a naval one, pleases me more than anything I
have met with hitherto. We are, however, now (Oct. 3rd) looking out for
land. Cape Sebastian will be the point we shall first see in Spain, & I
much fear that to-morrow night I shall sleep in Barcelona. Of the
Discipline of the Spanish Navy I cannot say much, nor can I praise their
cleanliness. I wish much to see a storm. How they manage then I do not
know, for when it blows hard the sailors will not go aloft; as for the
officers or Midshipmen, they never think of it. Indeed, the latter live
exactly as well as the officers; they mess with them, have as good
berths, & are as familiar with them as they are with each other; very
different in every respect from the discipline in English Men of War. I
shall write another letter to my sisters by this post; as they are at
Highlake you may exchange letters. Soon I shall write to you again. I
have to thank you for a very long letter which I received at Geneva,
chiefly relating to the proper judgement of paintings. I am not yet
quite a convert, but experience may improve me. In Spain I understand I
shall see some very good ones by the first masters. I fear much that my
desire of visiting Spain will not be so keen as it was when I have seen
a very little of it. By all accounts, even from Spaniards themselves,
travelling is very inconvenient, & what is infinitely worse, very
expensive; added to which the intolerable Suspicion & care of the
Government renders any stay there very unpleasant. In case I find myself
not at my ease there I shall, when at Gibraltar, take a passage back to
Italy, for Rome & Naples must be seen. Now I think of it I must mention
one ship well known to you which I saw at Leghorn, namely, the _John of
Leith_. I accidentally saw her boat with the name written; you may be
sure I looked at her with no small pleasure.[10] When I sought for her
next day she was gone. I little thought when I last saw you to see a
ship in which you had spent so much time, up the Mediterranean. I am
learning Spanish at present, & the progress I have made in it is not the
least pleasure I have received during my stay in the _Argonauta_. It is
a language extremely difficult to understand when spoken, but easy to
read, & very fine. I can already understand an easy book. If I can add
Spanish & Italian, or some knowledge of those languages, to my stock, I
shall consider my time and money as well spent, independent of the
Countries I shall have seen. Before I close this letter, which you will
receive long after its original date, I must tell you I have been making
a most interesting visit to the celebrated Lady of Mont Serrat,[11] &
was even permitted to kiss her hand, an honour which few, unless well
recommended, enjoy. I have not time to say so much of it as I could, I
can only assure you that it fully answered the expectations I had
raised. The singular Scenery and the more singular Customs of its
solitary inhabitants, excepting the monks of the convent, who lead a
most merry, sociable life, are well worth the trouble of going some
distance to visit. The formation of the mountain is also very
extraordinary. Entirely pudding stone, chiefly calcarious, some small
parts of quartz, red granite, & flint only to be found. I have preserved
some pieces for your museum, which I hope will arrive safe in England,
as also the small collection of stones which I sent from the Alps.
Yours sincerely,
EDWD. STANLEY.
MALAGA, _Jan., 1803_.
MY DEAR FATHER,--To this place am I once more returned, after having
made an excursion to the far-famed city of Granada and still more
renowned palace of the Alhambra. My last letter was dated from Gibraltar
on the 17th of Decr. We left the Rock in a Vile Tartan,[12] rendered
still less agreeable by belonging to Spaniards, who, at no time
remarkable for cleanliness, were not likely to exert themselves in that
point in a small trading Vessel. We were crowded with Passengers and
empty Casks--both Equally in the Way; tho' the latter were not then
noisy nor Sick, I considered them as the least nuisance. Fortunately a
strong W. Breeze soon carried us from the Rock, and in one night we
found ourselves close to the Mole of Malaga. We introduced ourselves on
landing to the English Consul Laird, to whose attentions we have been
since much indebted. On the 2nd day after our arrival we heard of a
Muleteer who was on his return to Granada, and with whom we agreed for 3
Mules. The distance is 18 leagues over the Mountains, a Journey of 3
days; this is a Country wild as the Highlands of Scotland, and in parts,
if possible, more barren. The first night we slept at Vetey Malaga and
the 2nd at Alhama, a Town famous for its hot baths, which, thanks to the
Moors--who built walls about them--the Spaniards still enjoy. The
accommodations in the Country are rather inferior to those of England,
tho' perhaps you may consider me so prejudiced in favour of my own, and
therefore unjust in my accounts of other Countries. This may be the
Case, and I dare say a Muleteer would find infinite fault with an
English Inn, where accommodation may be found for the Rider as well as
the Mule. On entering one of these Ventas, or Inns, you find yourself in
the Midst of Jack Asses and Mules, the necks of which, being usually
adorned with bells, produce a Music highly entertaining to a traveller
after a long day's Journey over these delightful roads. If you can force
your way through this Crowd of Musical Quadrupeds it is necessary that
you should attempt to find out the Landlord and petition for a room,
which in general may be had, and if you are fortunate, Mattrasses are
laid on the floor. Eating, however, is always out of the question. It is
absolutely necessary to carry your own Stock and look for your self if
a frying Pan can be found. If you are very much tired and the Bugs,
Mosquitos, Fleas, and other insects (sent into the World, I believe, to
torment Mankind) are also tired or satiated with sucking the Blood from
the Travellers the preceding night, you may chance to sleep till 3
o'clock in the Morning, when the Carriers begin to load their beasts and
prepare for the day's Journey. The pleasure of travelling is also
considerably diminished by the numbers of Crosses by the road side,
which, being all stuck up wherever a murder has been committed, are very
unpleasant hints, and you are constantly put in mind of your latter End
by these confounded Monuments of Mortality. Fortunately, we met with no
Tromboners on the road, and hitherto we have saved the Country the
Expence of Erecting 3 Crosses on our account. At last we arrived at
Granada, the 3rd Town in Spain in Extent, being surpassed only by
Seville and Toledo. You will, I suppose, expect a long account of the
Alhambra and Romantic Gardens of the Generalife, a minute account of the
curiosities in the City and a long string of etceteras relative to the
place. You must, however, remain in ignorance of all these things till
we meet, as at present I have neither time or inclination or paper
sufficient to repeat my adventures and observations: suffice it to say
that on the whole I was much disappointed both with the Alhambra and
Granada, which are I cannot say lasting Monuments, for they are falling
fast to ruin. Of the Indolence and negligence of the people, you will
scarcely believe that so large a Town so near the sea, and situated in
one of the finest vales in Spain, is almost without Trade of any
Sort--neither troubling itself with importations or exerting its powers
to provide Materials for Exportation. The Capt. Genl., however, is doing
all he can to restore it to its former dignity, and were he well
seconded, Granada might again hope to become one of the brightest
ornaments of Spain. We returned by way of Loja and Antiquiera on the
27th of Decr., and have been wind bound ever since, and likely to be for
another Month--sure never was a wind so obstinate as the present. We
have here, I believe, quite formed a party to visit another quarter of
the Globe--a short trip to Africa is at present in agitation. A Capt.
Riddel from Gibraltar is one of the promoters, and if we can get to
Gibraltar in any decent time you may possibly in my next letter hear
some account of the Good Mahometans at Tangiers. We are but to make a
short Stay and carry our Guns and dogs, as we are told the Country is
overrun with game of every sort. I have been most agreeably surprised in
finding Malaga a very pleasant place: we have met with more attention
and seen more Company here than we ever did in Barcelona. I am this
Evening going to a Ball; unfortunately Fandangos are not fashionable
dances, but they have another called the Bolero, which in grace and
Elegance stands unrivalled, but would scarcely be admitted in the less
licentious circles of our N. Climate. I shall take lessons at Cadiz, and
hope to become an adept in all those dances before I see you. If you
write within a fortnight--and of course you will after receiving
this--you may still direct to Cadiz. There has been a disturbance at
Gibraltar, which was hatching when we were there, and during our absence
has Broken out. The many strange reports and particulars which have
reached Malaga--as I cannot vouch for their truth, I shall not Mention;
the Grand point, however, was to put his Royal H. on board of a Ship and
send him back to England. There has been also a desperate gale of Wind
in the Straights--3 Portuguese Frigates, one with the loss of her
rudder, were blown in here. Some Vessels, I understand, were also lost
at the Rock. I hope our little brig, _ye Corporation_, with the young
pointers has arrived in the Thames in spite of the constant Gales and
contrary Winds which we met with. I was sorry when the Wind became fair
and the Rock appeared ahead. My taste for salt Water is not at all
diminished by Experience. It is no doubt a strange one, but there is no
accounting for these things, you know. Malaga is warm enough--we have
Green Peas and Asparagus every day. But we experienced very severe
Weather at Granada--Frost and Snow. The baths of the Alhambra were even
covered with Ice an Inch Thick. Adieu! this is Post Day.
Loves to all,
Yours Sincerely,
E. S.
GIBRALTAR, _Jan. 22, 1803_.
MY DEAR BROTHER,--I promised in my last, which I wrote when I was on the
point of Setting out on a tour to Granada, to write again and give some
account of myself immediately on my return, which was delayed on account
of Sundry unfortunate Circumstances till the day before yesterday. From
Malaga I wrote to my Father, and you probably have heard that a fair
wind carried us in a vile vessel from this place to Malaga in one night,
from whence, staying as Short a time as possible, I set out on mules to
Granada, distant a journey of three days. Till this time I had never,
excepting from hearsay, formed a true idea of the perfection to which
travelling in Spain could be carried, and yet, bad as it was, my return
to land from Gibraltar has shown that things might be a degree worse. Of
the roads I can only say that most probably the Spaniards are indebted
to the Moors for first marking them out, and that the present race
follow the steps of their Ancestors, without troubling themselves with
repairs or alterations of any description. You may well then imagine the
delicate State in which they now are. The Ventas or Inns are in a State
admirably corresponding to that of the high-roads. Provisions of every
sort must necessarily be carried unless the traveller wishes to fast;
beds are occasionally, and indeed I may say pretty generally, to be met
with, such as they are; of course, bugs, fleas, Mosquitos, and so forth
must not be considered: they are plentifully diffused over the Country,
and are by no means confined to the inferior houses. With a Substitution
for "Pallida Mors" the quotation from Horace may with truth be applied,
"aequo pulsant pede pauperum tabernae, Regum turres." We passed thro'
Alhama, near which are some very fine hot baths; the exact heat I could
not ascertain (as my thermometer was actually jolted to pieces tho' in
its case in my pocket, travelling from Turin to Genoa), but it is so
great that I could scarcely keep my hand immersed for a minute. In
another Country they would be much frequented; as it is there are only
some miserable rooms for those who repair to them from necessity. On the
evening of the 21st of December we arrived at our Journey's end, and
found, what we did not expect, a very tolerable Inn, though as Granada
is considered the third Town in Spain, those who are unacquainted with
the country might expect a better. I have so much to say that I cannot
enter into a minute account of the famous Palace of the Alhambra and
other Curiosities in the Town, which is most beautifully situated at the
foot of a range of snow-covered Mountains at the extremity of what is
said to be the most luxuriant and delightful valley in Spain. I hope for
the credit of the Inhabitants that it is not so, as certainly it is in a
disgraceful state of Cultivation, and were it not for the Acqueducts
erected by the Moors for the convenience of watering the land would, I
fear, in a few years be burnt up by the intense heat of summer. Its
chief produce is Corn and oil; silk and Wine are also cultivated, but
the cold of winter sometimes injures the two latter. The place is badly
peopled and has no trade; it is chiefly supported by being the chief
criminal port of Spain, and the richest people are consequently the
Lawyers. We saw the baths of Alhambra in a state very different from
what they usually are--actually frozen over and the Ice nearly an Inch
thick. I must say I was greatly disappointed with these famed remains of
Moorish Magnificence, tho' certainly when everything was kept in order,
the fountains all playing, it must have been very different; at present
it is falling fast to ruin. The Governor is a man appointed by the
Prince of Peace,[13] and I believe would be unwilling to bestow any
attention on anything in the world but his own person, of which by all
accounts he takes special care. We returned to Malaga through Loja and
Antequerra, both Moorish towns. At Malaga we were detained by Contrary
winds for three weeks; we might, indeed, have passed our time less
advantageously at other places, as we experienced much unexpected
Civility & saw a great deal of Spanish Society. Wearied at length with
waiting for Winds, we determined to set out on our return to the Rock by
land, and accordingly hired 4 horses, and, under the most favourable
auspices, left Malaga. We soon found that even a Spanish sky could not
be trusted; it began before we had completed half our first day's
journey to pour with rain. To return was impossible, as we had forded
the first river. In short, for three days we suffered Every
Inconvenience which can be conceived, but were still to meet with
another disappointment, for on the Morning of the day in which we had
certainly calculated to arrive at Gibraltar we came to a River which was
so much swelled that the Boatman could not ferry us over. Nearly a
hundred Muleteers and others were in the same predicament, and we had
the satisfaction of passing two most miserable days in a horrid Cortigo,
a house of _accommodation_ a degree lower than a Venta. Our provisions
were exhausted, and nothing but bread and water were to be met with.
Beds, of course, or a room of any sort were unobtainable. Conceive to
yourself a kitchen filled with smoke, without windows, in which were
huddled together about forty of the lowest order of Spaniards. As it
poured with rain we could not stir out, and as for staying within doors
it was scarcely possible. If we tried to sleep we were instantly covered
with fleas and other insects equally partial to a residence on the human
body. After two days' penance, as the waters began to abate, we
determined to cross the river in a small boat and proceed on foot, which
we did, and though we had to skip thro' 2 or 3 horrible streams and wade
thro' Mud and Marshes we performed the journey lightly, as anything was
bearable after the Cortigo del rio Zuariano. We passed through St. Roque
and the Spanish lines and arrived at Gibraltar on 20th, out of patience
with the Spaniards and everything belonging to Spain. Indeed, the
Country is a disgrace to Europe. I wish indolence was the only vice of
the inhabitants, but added to laziness they are in general mean in their
ideas, the women licentious in their manners, and both sexes sanguinary
to a degree scarcely credible. In Malaga particularly, few nights pass
without some murders. Those who have any regard for their safety must
after dark carry a sword and a lantern. You may form some idea of the
people when there was one fellow at Granada who had with his own hand
committed no less than 22 Murders. Nothing could be more gratifying to
an Englishman than finding wherever he goes the manufactures of his own
Country. This in Spain is particularly the case; there is scarcely a
single article of any description which this people can make for
themselves, consequently English goods are sure of meeting with a quick
sale. Perhaps it may be from prejudice, but certainly the idea I had of
England before I left it has been raised many degrees since I have had
an opportunity of comparing it with other countries. But now for some
news respecting Gibraltar itself, which has during my absence been a
scene of Confusion, first by a dreadful gale of wind, and secondly from
a much more serious cause, a spirit of Mutiny in the Garrison. By the
former 16 or 18 vessels were either lost or driven on shore; by the
latter some lives were sacrificed before tranquillity was restored, and
3 men have since suffered death by the Verdict of a Court Martial. No
doubt you will see something of it in the papers; I cannot now enter
into a detail as it would take some time. The 2 Regts. principally, and
I believe I may say only, concerned were the Royals, which is the
Duke's[14] own Regt., and the 25th; fortunately they did not act in
concert. The other Regts. of the Garrison, the 2nd, 8th, 23rd, and 54th,
particularly the latter, behaved well. The design was to seize the Duke
and put him on board a ship and send him to England. He is disliked on
account of his great severity: whether he carries discipline to an
unnecessary degree military men know better than myself. Despatches have
been sent to England, and I believe some of the men concerned; the
greatest anxiety prevails to know what answers or orders will be
returned. Of War and the rumours of War, tho' we it seems are nearer the
scene of action than those who dwell at home, little is known, and what
little is seems to be more inclined to peace than the English papers
allow. It is here said, on what grounds I know not, that the Spaniards
have entirely ceded Minorca to their good neighbours the French. We have
but a small Naval force in the bay; and a few frigates and ships of
war, one of the latter the _Bittern_, I believe, arrived yesterday from
England, but without any particular news. Many gun boats were fitting
out at Malaga, but I was informed they were only meant for "Guarda
Costas," which may or not be the truth. We sailed for Cadiz the moment
an E. wind would give us leave; it has now blown almost constantly a W.
wind for three months, and the season has been remarkably wet. I am
impatient to get to Cadiz as I expect certainly to find letters, the
receipt of which from home is, I think, the greatest pleasure a
traveller can experience. Of Louisa's[15] marriage I have as yet not
heard, tho' no doubt, however, it has taken place. How are my Nephews
and Nieces? I do indeed look forward with pleasure to my next visit to
Alderley. Remember it is now nearly 2 years since I have seen you; how
many things have happened in the time to yours most sincerely
EDWD. STANLEY.
_Edward Stanley to his brother J. T. Stanley._
GIBRALTAR, _January 16, 1803_.
MY DEAR BROTHER,-- ... I shall pass over the greater part of the rest of
your long letter & proceed without further delay to talk of myself. The
last time you heard from me I think was soon after I arrived in
Barcelona; what occurred during my stay there you have most probably
heard from my sisters, as I wrote to Highlake just before I left that
place. I consider myself as extremely fortunate in being at Barcelona
during a time when I had a better opportunity of seeing the Court of
Spain and the different amusements of the Country than I could have
witnessed by a much longer residence even in Madrid itself. I was,
however, unfortunately only a Spectator; as no regular English Consul
had arrived in Barcelona, I had no opportunity of being introduced
either at Court or in the first Circles. Another difficulty also was in
my way; unfortunately I was not in the Army & consequently had no
uniform, without which or a Court dress no person is considered as a
Gentleman in this Country. I have repeatedly regretted that before I
left England I did not put my name down on some Military list, & under
cover of a red Coat procure an undisputed right to the title of
Gentleman in Spain.
As for the people, both noble and vulgar, it requires but a very short
residence amongst them to be highly disgusted; few receive any thing
which deserves the name of a regular Education, & I have been told from,
I believe, undoubted Authority, that a nobleman unable to write his
name, or even read his own pedigree, is by no means a difficult thing to
meet with. The Government is in such a State that ere long it must fall,
I should think. The King is entirely under the power of the Prince of
Peace,[16] a man who from being a common Corps de Garde has risen by
degrees, & being naturally ambitious & extremely avaricious has gained a
rank inferior only to that of the King, & a fortune which makes him not
only the richest man in Spain but probably in Europe. He is disliked by
every Class of people, & it is not, I believe, without good ground that
he is considered as little better than a tool of Buonaparte's.
The conduct of France to Spain in many particulars, which are too
numerous now to mention, shews in what a degraded state the latter
is--how totally unable to act or even think for herself. One instance I
need only mention, tho' I do not vouch for the truth of it, further than
as being a report current in the Garrison. The French have _kindly_
offered to send 4,000 troops to Minorca in order to _take care_ of it
for yr good friends the Spaniards, and a Squadron is fitting out at
Toulon to carry them there. After your alarming account of the naval
preparations in the three kingdoms you will expect that I, who am here
in the centre of everything, should be able to tell you a great deal;
you will, therefore, be surprised when you are informed that yours is
almost the only account of another war which I have heard of. A Strong
Squadron, indeed, of 6 line of Battle Ships some time ago sailed with
sealed orders and went aloft, but where is unknown. From Barcelona, as
it was utterly impossible to get to Madrid on account of the King
having put an Embargo on every Conveyance, which is easily done as the
Conveyances are bad as the roads and difficult to meet with, as well as
enormously dear, we determined to steer for Gibraltar by Sea, and
accordingly took passage on an English brig, which was to stop on the
Coast for fruit we took on board. The Voyage was uncommonly long, and we
met with every Species of weather, during which I had the pleasure of
witnessing a very interesting Collection of Storms, with all the
concomitant circumstances such as Splitting Sails and Shipping Seas, one
of which did us considerable mischief, staving in all the starboard
quarter boards, filling and very nearly carrying away the long-boat,
drowning our live Stock, and, of course, ducking us all on deck most
thoroughly. We stayed a week at Denia, a small but beautiful Town on the
south part of the K. of Valencia. We were fortunately put on shore here
in the night of December 6th. I say fortunately, as in consequence of a
very strong Levanter the Captn. was for some hours in doubt whether he
should not be under the necessity of running through the straits and
carrying us to England, which was very near happening. Italy I have
quite given up for the present. Rome and Naples I lament not to have
seen, but you know that from Leghorn I turned to the westward in
Compliance with Hussey's wish, who was anxious to be near Lisbon. We
have some idea of going from this place thro' Malaga to Granada, and
soon after we return proceed to Cadiz, and after making some excursions
from thence go on to Lisbon. Your letter which you promised to send to
Madrid will, I fear, never reach me, tho' I have still hopes of paying
that Capital a visit. At Lisbon I shall arrive, I should think, about
March, and hope to be in England about May, or perhaps sooner. At Lisbon
I hope to find a letter from you; the direction is Jos. Lyne & Co. I
have been very unfortunate in not finding some friends in the Garrison,
the only officer to whom I had a letter whom I found here has been of
little Service to us. I have, however, made the best use of my time and
have been over the greatest part of this extraordinary Fortress, but
shall leave the description of it, as well as of an infinity of other
things, till we meet, which shall be very soon after my arrival in
England. I must send this instantly or wait for the next Post day, so I
shall conclude rather hastily. My best Love to Mrs. S. and Believe me,
Yours sincerely,
EDWD. STANLEY.
[Illustration: Lord Sheffield
Walker & Boutall, ph. sc.]