"Venice, December 3. 1817.
"A Venetian lady, learned and somewhat stricken in years, having,
in her intervals of love and devotion, taken upon her to translate
the Letters and write the Life of Lady Mary Wortley Montague,--to
which undertaking there are two obstacles, firstly, ignorance of
English, and, secondly, a total dearth of information on the
subject of her projected biography, has applied to me for facts or
falsities upon this promising project. Lady Montague lived the last
twenty or more years of her life in or near Venice, I believe; but
here they know nothing, and remember nothing, for the story of
to-day is succeeded by the scandal of to-morrow; and the wit, and
beauty, and gallantry, which might render your countrywoman
notorious in her own country, must have been _here_ no great
distinction--because the first is in no request, and the two latter
are common to all women, or at least the last of them. If you can
therefore tell me any thing, or get any thing told, of Lady Wortley
Montague, I shall take it as a favour, and will transfer and
translate it to the 'Dama' in question. And I pray you besides to
send me, by some quick and safe voyager, the edition of her
Letters, and the stupid Life, by _Dr. Dallaway_, published by her
proud and foolish family.
"The death of the Princess Charlotte has been a shock even here,
and must have been an earthquake at home. The Courier's list of
some three hundred heirs to the crown (including the house of
Wirtemberg, with that * * *, P----, of disreputable memory, whom I
remember seeing at various balls during the visit of the
Muscovites, &c. in 1814) must be very consolatory to all true
lieges, as well as foreigners, except Signor Travis, a rich Jew
merchant of this city, who complains grievously of the length of
British mourning, which has countermanded all the silks which he
was on the point of transmitting, for a year to come. The death of
this poor girl is melancholy in every respect, dying at twenty or
so, in childbed--of a _boy_ too, a present princess and future
queen, and just as she began to be happy, and to enjoy herself, and
the hopes which she inspired.
"I think, as far as I can recollect, she is the first royal defunct
in childbed upon record in _our_ history. I feel sorry in every
respect--for the loss of a female reign, and a woman hitherto
harmless; and all the lost rejoicings, and addresses, and
drunkenness, and disbursements, of John Bull on the occasion.
"The Prince will marry again, after divorcing his wife, and Mr.
Southey will write an elegy now, and an ode then; the Quarterly
will have an article against the press, and the Edinburgh an
article, _half_ and _half_, about reform and right of divorce; the
British will give you Dr. Chalmers's funeral sermon much commended,
with a place in the stars for deceased royalty; and the Morning
Post will have already yelled forth its 'syllables of dolour.'
"Woe, woe, Nealliny!--the young Nealliny!
"It is some time since I have heard from you: are you in bad
humour? I suppose so. I have been so myself, and it is your turn
now, and by and by mine will come round again. Yours truly,
"B.
"P.S. Countess Albrizzi, come back from Paris, has brought me a
medal of himself, a present from Denon to me, and a likeness of Mr.
Rogers (belonging to her), by Denon also."
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