I
My Birth—Kindness of the Comtesse Borghi—We leave for
Florence—My Circumstances in that Town—Domestic Troubles—My
Parents’ good Fortune—My Tastes—My Education—Journey to Pisa—My
Illness.
I was born in 1773, in the little town of Modigliana, situated on the
heights of the Apennines, which could be reached only by very bad roads.
It belongs to the Grand Duchy of Tuscany, though dependent on the Diocese
of Faenza in the Papal States.
On April 17 of the same year I was baptized in the parish church,
receiving the names of Maria Stella Petronilla. My father’s name was
Lorenzo Chiappini; my mother’s, Vincenzia Viligenti.
The family of Borghi Biancoli of Faenza owned, in my birthplace, a
magnificent palace almost opposite the Pretorial Palace, where my father
lived in the position of jailer.
The Count Pompeo Borghi, with his mother, the Countess Camilla, came
there every year to spend the summer. The Countess happened to see me,
and despite my father’s ignoble profession, she was very fond of me and
showed me immense kindness. I was admitted to her table, and often even
shared her bed; she heaped presents upon me, and I lived almost entirely
with her; I may even say that she inspired all the people of her house
with the same sentiments, and that I was generally loved.
It was a precious compensation for the ills I suffered at home, where I
had to endure the cruel brutality of a barbarous mother, to whom I was an
object of detestation!
I well remember that as the first germ of gratitude developed in my
little heart, I loved my benefactress as myself. When she was absent,
I longed for her return, and when I had got her back, I couldn’t tear
myself away from her; in a word, she was all the happiness of my life;
but, alas! it was soon to be torn from me.
I had not yet reached my fourth year, when my father was summoned to
Florence by the Grand Duke Leopold, who put him in command of a company
of archers (_capo squadra sbirri_). A few months later my father, in his
turn, sent for us. I was his eldest child; two brothers were born after
me, and the first had been dead some time.
The day we left, I was awakened very early, and in a few minutes my
brother and I were each put into a pannier on a mule, and my mother got
upon another animal of the same kind, our sole guide, protector and
companion being the muleteer.
What tears I shed at leaving my dear Countess! It almost seemed as if I
had foreseen that in losing this loving friend I should lose everything,
absolutely everything!…
During the journey, which lasted two days, my mother seemed to care for
nothing but my little brother, to whom she gave all her attention. Her
neglect of me filled me with such bitterness that I felt like complaining
to my father the instant we reached Florence.
In this new abode small-pox attacked our family; I got off with some
small suffering; but my brother fell a victim to it, and my mother was
not consoled for his loss till she gave birth to a third son six months
later.
Scarcely convalescent, I was sent to a school, taken every morning by an
ancient maidservant.
My appearance and manners, my native tongue, which nobody spoke at
Florence; my rich attire, my splendid bracelets, my coral necklace, and
all the gifts of the Countess Borghi, soon attracted much attention. I
was sent for; people were pleased to see me, and liked to listen to me.
But what struck other people so pleasingly made only an unfavourable
impression on my mother; for the slightest fault I was punished with the
greatest severity.
On one occasion she gave me such a violent blow with her heavy hand that
I fainted, and, falling backwards, hurt myself terribly. When I recovered
from my fainting fit, I could not restrain my grief. Going into a corner,
I gave myself up to the most frightful despair, invoking my protectress
with loud cries and calling to her for help.
Vain lamentations! Henceforth given over to my ill fortune, I was never
again to find maternal consolation.
My father had a sister who was very unfortunate in her marriage; she left
her husband and came to live with us. She and my mother could never get
on; they detested each other, and were perpetually quarrelling.
Witnessing their disputes, my father sometimes took the part of one,
sometimes of the other; still more often he reproved both of them, and
drew their anger upon himself. The arrival of my paternal grandmother,
who, growing old, came to be with her son, led to fresh subjects for
wrangling; and as they were all violent and passionate, our house was
like a veritable hell upon earth.
These interminable quarrels were not caused, as might be supposed, by the
cares attending poverty. Though my father’s post brought him in no more
than a hundred francs a month, he had always plenty of money. He was well
dressed, and often gave large dinners. He had abundance of provisions,
and his cellar contained wines of the best kinds. He had a very pretty
house and a splendid garden.
But these advantages were far from making up to me for my annoyances,
or from doing away with the mortal weariness I felt in the bosom of my
family.
I bewailed my fate unceasingly; I felt humiliated by my circumstances; I
envied the ladies who possessed many servants, beautiful mansions, fine
equipages, and most of all those who were received at Court.
These lofty aspirations were always with me; they were so deeply graven
on my mind, so natural to me after a fashion, that I should have liked
always to live with the great, and felt myself grievously hurt when I was
obliged to keep company with common people.
I had, too, a decided taste for the fine arts; I had a passion for
antiquities, and I do not doubt that I should have made great progress if
my talents had been cultivated.
However, from the age of seven I was given lessons in writing, dancing,
music, etc.
As my voice and my skill were remarkable, my parents made me early an
object of speculation, and I was forced into practising cruelly. They
made me sing, or play the piano eight hours a day, which inspired me with
an insurmountable detestation of that instrument.
If my master complained of my inattention, I was shut up in the
music-room from six in the morning till eight in the evening and given
hardly anything to eat. If by chance I got a good report, I was pretty
well treated, my father made me a present of twopence, and my mother told
me ghost stories, which terrified me to such an extent that I scarcely
dared to be alone during the night.
One day when they had forgotten to open my prison at the usual hour, I
was suddenly seized with a panic of terror, and, quite beside myself, I
opened the window and threw myself out into the garden, without doing
myself any harm, however.
About this time great rejoicings were taking place in Pisa in honour of
their Neapolitan Majesties, who were on a visit to the Grand Duke Leopold.
My mother, wishing to take the opportunity of going to see her sister,
who lived in that town, my father gave his consent, on condition that my
aunt and I should be of the party.
With what transports of joy did I receive this agreeable news! What a
delightful and lively satisfaction it would be to let my _dear_ piano
rest!
Great preparations were made for my toilette; several frocks were bought
for me; my father gave me two gold watches and a very valuable ring. He
did not forget to make me take my shoes with their very high red heels,
whose sound much delighted me.
We embarked on a public boat, and, although it was my first journey by
water, my young imagination, far from dreading the perils of the furious
element, was at once wonderfully diverted.
In twenty-four hours we landed at Pisa, where my uncle and aunt
Fillipini, as well as their son and daughters, received us with open
arms. They were greatly surprised to see me so richly clad, and said to
my mother that no doubt her husband was very well off.
She answered only that I was a _bastard_, a name she gave me pretty
often, and the meaning of which I did not understand.
Profiting by my father’s absence to treat me with greater harshness, she
was eternally scolding and tormenting me; she went so far as to take
away my watches and my ring, to give them, as she said, to the great
Madonna. Unluckily for me, she managed to procure a piano, at which I was
pitilessly forced to work.
One day, having suddenly sent for me, she ordered me to sing for the
amusement of two ragged and unpleasant-looking women she told me were
intimate friends of hers.
Indignant at such a proposal, I said that a bit of bread was all they
needed just at present.
She rose; I rushed to my room; but nothing could save me from her fury.
In vain did I beg her pardon, in vain entreated for mercy; a hail of
blows fell upon me; my body was a mass of bruises; the blood streamed
from my nose. I could not stand the overcoming pain; I went to bed, and
did not rise from it again till we set out for Florence.
In this fashion my visit to Pisa became a real martyrdom for me instead
of an amusement.
During my infancy I had been very subject to eruptions which from time
to time appeared all over my body; but none had ever equalled that which
was caused after my return by weariness and wretchedness. After the
doctors had prescribed a lengthy course of cooling remedies, my parents,
to rid themselves of such a nuisance, determined to send me to a hospital
maintained at the expense of the Grand Duchess, and the admission to
which needed great interest. Nevertheless, my father got an order
without any difficulty.
I stayed there several weeks, and I must proclaim aloud that I felt as if
I had refound my dear Countess in the person of each of the sisters who
managed the hospital. Their constant care soon cured me; they were always
near me, caressing me, and giving me fruit and sweetmeats.
No, no one could have been kinder, more courteous than those charitable
women, to whom I vowed eternal gratitude, and whom I could not leave
without anguish.