[Illustration:
_Fagan, pinx._ _Walker E. Cockerell, ph. sc._
_Elizabeth Lady Holland._]
THE JOURNAL
OF
ELIZABETH LADY HOLLAND
(1791–1811)
EDITED BY
THE EARL OF ILCHESTER
_WITH PORTRAITS_
IN TWO VOLUMES
VOL. I. 1791–1799
LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.
39 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON
NEW YORK, BOMBAY, AND CALCUTTA
1908
All rights reserved
PREFATORY NOTE
I have not considered it necessary to include an extended preface in
these volumes. The requisite words of explanation have been given in
the short introductory sketch of Lady Holland’s career, which follows.
I should like, however, to express my gratitude to Sir Augustus Webster
for the assistance he has given me on matters connected with his family
history, and for the anecdotes of his great-grandmother’s life at
Battle. My thanks are also due to Mr. Walter Sichel for allowing me to
use certain material relating to Sheridan which he has collected for
his forthcoming work.
ILCHESTER.
_September, 1908._
INTRODUCTION
Fame is notoriously fickle. Her methods are many and varied, and all do
not receive a like treatment at her hands. The names of those who have
done the most, by laborious and scientific pursuits, alike injurious
to their health and happiness, to smooth the thorny paths of their
fellow-creatures, are perhaps allowed to lapse into utter oblivion.
While others, whose claim to immortality rests on a more slender base,
are celebrated among their posterity. Lady Holland’s claim to renown
rests upon the later years of her life. She is known to the readers
of memoirs and historical biographies of her time as the domineering
leader of the Whig circle; as a lady whose social talents and literary
accomplishments drew to her house the wits, the politicians, and the
_cognoscenti_ of the day. She is known as the hostess who dared to
give orders to such guests as Macaulay and Sydney Smith, and, what is
more, expected and exacted implicit obedience. As yet, however, little
has been written of her earlier years, and on these her Journal will
throw much light. It is a record of the years of her unhappy marriage
to Sir Godfrey Webster; and after her marriage with Lord Holland the
narrative is continued with more or less regularity until 1814.
The chief point which at once strikes home in reading the account of
her younger days is an entire absence of any system of education, to
use the words in their modern application. Everything she learnt was
due to her own exertions. She did not receive the benefit of any course
of early teaching to prepare her to meet on equal terms the brightest
stars of a period which will compare favourably with any other in the
annals of this country for genius and understanding. ‘My principles
were of my own finding, both religious and moral, for I never was
instructed in abstract or practical religion, and as soon as I could
think at all chance directed my studies.... Happily for me, I devoured
books, and a desire for information became my ruling passion.’ Her
own words thus describe how she gained the general knowledge which
was subsequently of such use to her. Lectures on geology, courses of
chemistry with the _savants_ whom she met on her travels, and
hours of careful reading snatched whenever practicable, seem to have
been the solace and the recreation of those early years of her married
life. By her own efforts she thus became fitted, with the aid of
undoubted beauty and a natural liveliness of disposition, to take her
place in Whig society, into which her marriage with Lord Holland had
thrown her. Without the same opportunities, her _salon_ in later
days succeeded and far surpassed in interest that presided over by the
beautiful Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire. Thus said Charles Greville:
‘Tho’ everybody who goes there finds something to abuse or to ridicule
in the mistress of the house, or its ways, all continue to go. All like
it more or less; and whenever, by the death of either, it shall come to
an end, a vacuum will be made in society which nothing can supply. It
is the house of all Europe; the world will suffer by the loss; and it
may be said with truth that it will “eclipse the gaiety of nations.”’
But her sway over her associates was the rule of fear, not of love; and
with age the imperiousness of her demeanour to her intimates grew more
marked. Each one of her visitors was liable to become a target for the
venom of her wit or the sharpness of her tongue.
But was it solely her exertions which, like a magnet, drew that
distinguished coterie to the old house in Kensington? In this we
think that fame has in some degree erred. Let praise be given where
praise is due. The genial presence of Lord Holland, with his endearing
personality, his sympathetic nature, and his ever-engrossing flow of
anecdote, was at least of equal value in attracting those guests as
were the fascinations of his wife. ‘I would not go to heaven with Lady
Holland, but I could go to hell with his Lordship,’ said Ugo Foscolo;
and the sentiment was echoed in the hearts of many others, who had not
the strength of character to tear themselves from their accustomed
haunts.
Elizabeth Vassall was born on March 25, 1771. She was an only child,
the daughter of Richard Vassall, of Jamaica. Owing to a similarity in
the Christian names, the Vassall pedigree is somewhat difficult to
trace with any certainty. It appears, however, that they were descended
from one of two brothers, John and William, who went to America from
England and are mentioned in the first Massachusetts Charter of 1629.
The latter of these brothers went to Barbadoes in 1650, and purchased
large estates there. Ticknor, in reply to Lady Holland, who had just
told him that New England was originally populated with convicts,
mentioned a house in Cambridge, Massachusetts, built by a member of
her family, and a marble monument to one of them in King’s Chapel,
Boston. Florentius Vassall, her grandfather, was born in 1710, and
married Mary, daughter of Colonel John Foster, of Jamaica. By her he
seems to have had two sons and two daughters, the second of whom,
Richard, succeeded to the property upon his father’s death in 1779.
Richard was born in 1731–2, and married Mary, daughter of Thomas
Clark, of New York. They lived almost entirely in England, and after
her husband’s death in 1795, Mrs. Vassall married Sir Gilbert Affleck,
second Baronet, of Dalham Hall, Suffolk. She died in 1835, at the age
of eighty-six. Florentius Vassall’s will contained a most stringent
proviso that whoever succeeded to the estates should take the name of
Vassall immediately after their Christian names. By its terms Elizabeth
succeeded to the whole of the West Indian property, chiefly situated
in Jamaica, at her father’s death. This amounted in 1800 to about
7000_l._ a year, but after the suppression of the slave trade it
deteriorated greatly in value, and was of little account at the time of
her death.
In 1786, at the age of fifteen, Elizabeth was married to Sir
Godfrey Webster, of Battle Abbey, in Sussex. It was a _mariage de
convenance_, and one which would probably appeal to all parties
except the young lady. Her parents would doubtless welcome the alliance
to a member of an old and respected English county family; while the
money which was to come to her at her father’s death would be of much
service to her husband. The Websters came originally from Derbyshire,
but had settled near Waltham, in Essex. Sir Thomas Webster, who was
created a baronet in 1703, was the purchaser of Battle Abbey. He sat
as member for Colchester for many years, and married Jane, daughter
of Edward Cheek, of Sandford Orcas, Somerset. He died in 1751, and
was succeeded by his eldest son, Whistler, who married Martha Nairne,
daughter of the Dean of Battle. Upon his death, without surviving
issue, in 1779, the property and title went to his brother, Godfrey,
who died the following year, leaving by his wife, Elizabeth, daughter
of Gilbert Cooper, of Lockington, co. Derby, a son, Godfrey, and a
daughter, Elizabeth, who married Thomas Chaplin. Sir Godfrey was
born in 1748, and was thus nearly twenty-three years older than the
child he married. He was for some years member for Seaford, and at
the time of his death sat for Wareham. Battle Abbey was tenanted by
his aunt, the widow of Sir Whistler Webster (she lived till 1810),
and the Websters were therefore obliged to take up their residence in
a small house close by. The old lady did little or nothing to keep
up the place, and everything was falling into a state of ruin and
disrepair. Elizabeth seems to have looked on her as a kind of usurper
of her rights, and as the dispositions and tastes of the two ladies
were diametrically opposed to one another, a constant friction between
them developed into open warfare. At one time the young lady used to
send across to the Abbey in the mornings to inquire ‘If the old hag was
dead yet.’ At others she would set about devising ghostly apparitions,
rattling of chains, and other eerie noises calculated to frighten the
old woman, who, contrary to her desires, appears to have thriven on
these petty annoyances, and more than once was able to turn the tables
on her persecutor.
On one occasion a dozen or more people were introduced into the Abbey
after dark and distributed about the house. At a given time each
commenced a kind of drumming noise in turn increasing and decreasing
in intensity. After the din had gone on for some time, and no notice
was taken, the jokers came out of their hiding places only to find that
Lady Webster had left the house with her servants and taken the keys
with her. There they had to remain till morning!
Another day, a crowd of panic-stricken countrypeople, with carts and
horses, fleeing from the coast, bringing intelligence of a French
landing, invaded the Abbey. These were in reality led by friends of
Elizabeth, many of them in disguise. The old lady gave them all as much
food and drink as they wanted, and sent them away to tell the French
that she would treat them in like fashion when they came, and that
there she would be found until the day of her death.
To a young and pretty woman, blessed with buoyant spirits, of an age to
realise the pleasures of life, and with every wish to enjoy them to the
full, this quiet country life must soon have become irksome. Even with
everything in her favour she might naturally have desired to see more
of the world than she was likely to find in the green fields of Sussex,
varied by an occasional visit to London. But circumstanced as she was,
with a husband more than double her age, and without the occupation
and cares of a large establishment to manage, her fancies and desires
were sure to wander further afield. She longed to leave Battle, ‘that
detested spot where I had languished in solitude and discontent the
best years of my life,’ and she implored her husband to take her abroad
after the birth of her son. Their eldest, Godfrey Vassall, was born in
1789, and another, who died soon after, was born the following year.
Though a member of Parliament, Sir Godfrey had no keen desire for
political life; in fact, he had lost his seat in 1790. Nor did he care
for society, but his tastes and interests led him to prefer a residence
in England; and the racket of the Continent, with its endless journeys
and discomforts, had no attraction whatever for him. He did not care
for the pictures and works of art in Italy as much as for the pleasures
of the country gentleman of the day. He was immensely popular in the
county, perhaps partly on account of his liberality and extravagance,
which, combined with his gambling propensities, greatly helped to
dissipate the large sum of ready money to which he had succeeded.
He also took an active part in all local matters of business. These
interests, however, he consented temporarily to relinquish, and in
compliance with his wife’s constant entreaties they set off abroad in
the spring of 1791.
It will be unnecessary here to go at length into their travels, as the
Journal deals closely with their progress. Another son, Henry, was
born in February 1793; a daughter, Harriet, in June 1794; and another
boy, who died soon after his birth, in October 1795. Sir Godfrey was
sometimes with his wife abroad, sometimes in England, their final
separation taking place in the spring of 1795.
All this time the relations between husband and wife were becoming more
and more strained. Everything appears to have been perfectly amicable
between them until 1792, when, in a letter to Thomas Pelham, Lady
Webster mentions that his behaviour to her seems to have undergone a
sudden change, owing, she thought, to money difficulties which were
troubling him. It is impossible to say what was the true explanation of
the reasons for this change. Her various friends were certainly a trial
to Sir Godfrey’s jealous disposition, but beyond a foolish levity of
conduct consequent upon youth, her flirtations do not seem to have been
of a very dangerous nature. Their correspondence, however, continued
without break until her return to England in June 1796. Disparity in
ages and a complete absence of any similarity of interests was in all
probability the base from which the rift first sprang; and, once the
edges were parted asunder, an infinity of foolish misunderstandings and
trivial annoyances would too surely have assisted the widening of the
gulf.
Faults there were, and material faults too, on both sides. Sir
Godfrey’s indifference to her tastes, his gloomy and at times sullen
disposition, his violence of temper, his fits of depression which were
the ultimate cause of his unhappy end, and his love of gambling and
dissipation, cannot have nurtured, and, in fact, speedily blasted a
youthful affection which might have flourished in a more congenial
soil. He can never have properly fathomed the character and temperament
of the girl to whom he was united. Had he married a nonentity, who was
ready to sit at home and trace out a colourless existence, obedient
to his beck and call, all might have been well. But his wife was not
one of these. She was essentially a woman of action. Her ambitions
could not be confined to any particular groove, and her spirit would
not allow her to stoop to a position of dependence. Her increasing
knowledge of the world and its ways taught her to believe herself a
victim to her fortune, and, regarding her husband as the cause, her
respect for him became diminished and the recollection of the kindly
side of his nature was swallowed up in her grievances. Thus it is that
her references to him in her Journal are tinged with even more than a
feeling of dislike. Throughout her life she was accustomed to speak
out her thoughts with an almost brutal frankness, and her allusions to
Sir Godfrey in these pages are sometimes inclined to be hysterical and
perhaps more severe than circumstances always merited.
For he too had much to contend with. Once abroad, the memory of her
unhappy life in Sussex recurred with double force, and the possibility
of a return to England, even for a few months, became a nightmare.
She loved the bright sun and blue skies more dearly from the contrast
of her gloomy recollections of the northern climate, and a growing
taste for art and literature fanned her reluctance to undergo again
the thraldom of an existence at home. Here was indeed an unpleasant
position for a man whose whole interests were centred in England. Was
he to leave his wife continually alone in a strange country to follow
her own devices, or was he at all risks to assert his authority and
take her back with him by force? It was a situation which was likely
to have but one ending.
In her solitude she craved for someone to love and cherish her, and one
whom she might love in return. ‘I strive to repress, but often feel a
strong desire to be dependent upon another for happiness’; but it was
not till 1794 that the ‘other’ appeared upon the scene. Devoted friends
she had had, but none had touched her heart before she met Lord
Holland.
Henry Richard, third Lord Holland, was born in November 1773. His
father, Stephen, second Lord Holland, died the year after his son’s
birth, and his mother, a daughter of John, first Earl of Upper Ossory,
only lived until 1778. He was brought up by his uncles, Charles James
Fox and Lord Ossory; while his only sister, Caroline Fox, five years
his senior, remained under the charge of their aunt, Lady Warwick,
and their great-aunt, the Duchess of Bedford. He had been educated at
Eton and Christ Church, Oxford, and went abroad in 1791. He spent some
time in Spain, and in the course of his travels arrived at Florence in
February 1794. There he made Lady Webster’s acquaintance; friendship
ripened into mutual attachment, and both before and after Sir Godfrey’s
departure for England in 1795 much of his time was spent with her. In
April 1796 Lady Webster started for home from Florence, accompanied
by Lord Holland, and reached England in June. She met Sir Godfrey
at his house in Albemarle Street, but shortly after took rooms in
Brompton Row, and went to live there. In November a son was born--Lord
Holland’s--christened Charles Richard Fox.
Sir Godfrey had taken into consideration the question of a divorce
as early as July 1796, but was not actually prevailed upon to
commence proceedings until the following January. In those days
this necessitated a case before the Civil Court and also an Act of
Parliament. There is no need to go into the transactions further than
is necessary to throw light on the allusions in the Journal. Though
he was the injured person, and was therefore justified in making his
own terms, Sir Godfrey’s conduct throughout the negotiations shows
an indecision of purpose, almost verging at times upon insanity. At
one moment he would refuse to go on with the proceedings at all;
at the next he would state that he still adored Lady Webster, and
for her sake would only be too ready to expedite matters, and would
not even sue for damages. At another he wished to fight a duel with
Lord Holland, not for running away with his wife, but because he had
offered to buy a picture of her, by Romney, which belonged to Sir
Godfrey. The case finally came up before Lord Kenyon in the Civil
Court at the end of February, with a condition attached that Lady
Webster should give up her whole fortune to Sir Godfrey for his life,
keeping only 800_l._ a year for her own use; besides a claim of
10,000_l._ damages against Lord Holland, which was modified by
the jury into 6000_l._ This settlement the judge described during
the negotiations as iniquitous. But Sir Godfrey seemed prepared to
drop the case unless he obtained these terms; and as there seemed to
be little chance of securing the recognition of the court, a bond was
given to him, signed by the Duke of Bedford, Charles Ellis, Sir Gilbert
Affleck, and Lord Holland, guaranteeing that these conditions should
be religiously observed, if he continued the proceedings. This was
accepted, and though minor difficulties arose as to the payment of past
debts, &c., the divorce was successfully carried through the courts and
both Houses of Parliament.
In April 1796 Lady Webster wrote to Sir Godfrey announcing the death
of their daughter, Harriet, who had been born in June 1794. In her
letter she stated that the child had sickened of measles at Modena,
and had died of convulsions consequent upon that disease. In all this
there was not one word of truth. Harriet, who afterwards married
Admiral Sir Fleetwood Pellew, was perfectly well all the time, but was
concealed by her mother, in order to avoid being deprived of all her
children whenever the time for the inevitable rupture with her husband
arrived. The girl was handed over to the custody of an English nurse,
Sarah Brown, and was brought safely back to England some time later. It
was not until 1799 that Lady Holland, as she was then, determined to
restore her to her father. In the Journal she mentions that scruples,
and the fear of involving Lord Holland in difficulties on her behalf,
had led her to decide to pursue this course. She allows that she was
very loath to make the sacrifice, and it is probable that the knowledge
that Sir Godfrey had somehow received information of something being
wrong had more to do with her determination than anything else. At
the time he had no inkling that everything was not as she had stated.
Shortly after the divorce, however, facts were brought to his notice
which led him to take action. A commission was appointed to investigate
into the whole circumstances, and the grave, we believe, was actually
opened; for so thoroughly had the matter been arranged in the first
instance that a mock funeral had taken place, and a kid had been buried
in the coffin instead of the child. Fear of discovery would therefore
have influenced her wish to make a clean breast of the deception,
before it was too late.
After Sir Godfrey’s death Lady Holland made a vigorous effort to gain
access to her children. Her request to be allowed to see them was
refused, as Sir Godfrey’s brother-in-law, Mr. Chaplin, stated that he
had been expressly enjoined, in the event of the former’s death, to see
that the children had no communication with their mother. The matter
was taken before the courts in 1801, but the judge’s award does not
seem to have given her any satisfaction.
After their marriage the Hollands remained in England until 1802, when
they were compelled by the unsatisfactory state of their son Charles’s
health to winter abroad. It was during these five years that Lady
Holland laid the groundwork of those distinguished gatherings for which
Holland House was, in after years, so justly famed. We have already
seen that the subsequent glories of their _salon_ were as much due
to Lord Holland as to his wife; but in the early days of their marriage
her personality, her beauty, and the brilliancy of her conversational
powers undoubtedly attracted many of the men of culture and learning
by whom they were surrounded. Feminine society was almost wanting in
that circle. She received much kindness from members of Lord Holland’s
family, but with this exception and that of a few of her former
friends, the Duchess of Devonshire, Lady Bessborough, and others, she
was nowhere received in society. To a woman of her ambitions this
treatment cannot but have been very galling, though it was only what
she had to expect; and perhaps to this fact may be traced some part
of that bitterness of manner with which her name is so generally
associated.
She possessed to the full the gift of drawing out her guests.
Conversation never flagged at her table, and however diverse were the
sentiments of those who met under her roof, they felt that they were
there able to fraternise on neutral ground. Especially as she grew
older her desire to rule grew stronger, and her opinion on any subject
was not to be lightly contradicted. ‘Elle est toute assertion, mais
quand on demande la preuve, c’est là son secret,’ said Talleyrand;
and it was characteristic of the means she employed to state a fact
or clinch an argument. Her methods of government were essentially
tyrannical. Macaulay thus describes his first visit to Holland House:
‘The centurion did not keep his soldiers in better order than she
kept her guests. It is to one, “Go,” and he goeth; and to another,
“Do this,” and it is done’; and numerous are the records left by her
contemporaries of the insults and abuse from which the _habitués_
were never immune. Yet within that cold exterior, with all her
arrogance of demeanour and harshness of speech, beat as warm a heart as
ever beat in woman’s breast. To her dependents she was kindness itself,
her old friends were never forgotten, and many a struggling writer had
reason to bless the assistance she bestowed on his efforts unasked.
Her views on religion were indefinite, and her belief in the principles
of Christianity was probably not deeply seated. Atheism, however,
she would not tolerate, and Allen’s allusions in her presence to
his disbelief in the Godhead would always receive instant reproof.
Superstitious she was, to a certain degree, but she seems to have
thrown off many of her fancies later in life. ‘She died with perfect
composure, and though consciously within the very shadow of death for
three whole days before she crossed the dark threshold, she expressed
neither fear nor anxiety, and exhibited a tranquillity of mind by no
means general at the time’ (_Rogers and his Contemporaries_). Yet
to the end she was never entirely free from fears of her own health,
and her dread of storms, and especially thunder, was almost ludicrous.
Macaulay relates how she would even have her rooms shut up in broad
daylight and the candles lit, to prevent her from seeing the lightning,
which she dreaded so much.
In politics she was by no means an extremist, and especially before
she had tasted the sweets of office her influence over Lord Holland
tended to restrain him from the more advanced principles of Whiggism
which he sometimes affected. Her views were essentially those of a
partisan, both in public and in private. No exertion was too great for
her, if it was to assist a friend in need or to further any scheme
which she considered worthy of support. Her admiration for Napoleon
and her efforts to improve his situation when in exile are well known,
yet her personal intercourse with her hero was limited to two or three
words in one short audience. She revelled in intrigue, and her desire
to have a hand in all that was taking place led her at times to assume
a more active part than was consistent with her own professions or
advantageous to her husband’s position in the party.
Her reputation has always been that of an imperious, downright woman,
who said just what she thought, without reference to the feelings
of her hearers. So it is with her writings. Her likes and dislikes
were very marked, and led her into extremes which are reflected in
the delineations of the characters of her contemporaries. The task
of editing her Journal has on this account been a matter of some
difficulty. To have eliminated all passages in which her political
bias or personal feelings of dislike are apparent would be to destroy
the value of her chronicle, and would create a fictitious impression
of her real disposition and way of speaking. Bearing in mind these
peculiarities, therefore, it has been thought fit to retain more of
her critical observations than would otherwise have been kept. Some
passages, however, have been necessarily omitted and others have been
somewhat softened, where it has been found possible to do so. It
has also been attempted to point out any inaccuracies wherever they
appear in the text, which has been altered as little as possible. Her
sentences are sometimes involved, and it seems difficult to credit her
with a complete command of the English language--an attainment which
her contemporaries relate that she was fond of boasting she possessed.
After nearly two years, spent chiefly in Spain, the Hollands returned
to England in 1805. The following year, after Fox’s death, Lord Holland
was included in Lord Grenville’s Ministry as Lord Privy Seal. They went
again to Spain in 1808, and returned in August 1809. The narrative
of these journeys has been omitted from these pages, and is reserved
for publication at some future date, should it be considered to be of
sufficient interest. The Journal closes in 1814, but as nothing of
particular interest is recorded during the last few years, that portion
has been omitted. We need not therefore concern ourselves here with
Lady Holland’s later career, as it does not come within the scope of
these volumes. Suffice it to say that Lord Holland died in 1840, and
that after his death Lady Holland moved to their little house in South
Street, taking with her Dr. Allen, who died two years later. Lady
Holland died in 1845, and was buried at Millbrook, in Bedfordshire.
The Journal has never been revised in any way, and is therefore full
of slips and omissions, which are now corrected. The original spelling
and punctuation has not been retained, as it is unreliable and often
varies, especially in the proper names, except in a few cases where
the particular form was in vogue at the time. Abbreviations remain
as they appear in the manuscript. In a few places names have been
purposely omitted, but in most cases a blank signifies that the
word is illegible, or has not been filled in by the writer. Certain
sentences also are somewhat obscure from the difficulty which has
been experienced in deciphering the handwriting; these have been
made as clear as possible. Some passages in the earlier portion,
relating to the travels abroad, have been curtailed, and the sequence
of the narrative retained by means of editorial notes. Most of the
descriptions of collections in Italy have also been left out, except in
a few cases where Lady Webster’s remarks are of interest in showing her
own appreciation of various well-known works of art and the opinions
of men of learning of the day upon them. Extracts from books which
she had read are also omitted; though in many cases the titles of the
books she read and her critical remarks upon the contents are retained.
By these it is possible to form some opinion of her special tastes in
literature, and discover by what stages she was able to prepare herself
to become the leader of Whig society.
LIST OF PLATES TO VOLUME I.
ELIZABETH, THIRD LADY HOLLAND, 1793 _Frontispiece_
_From a painting by Robert Fagan._
RICHARD VASSALL, 1793 _To face p._ 132
_From a painting by J. Hoppner._
ELIZABETH, THIRD LADY HOLLAND, 1795 „ 212
_From a painting by Louis Gauffier._
JOURNAL OF ELIZABETH LADY HOLLAND
In June 1791 I left England and went to Paris. During my stay the
King and Royal family escaped to Varennes, but were brought back. I
attended the debates in the National Assembly; I heard Robespierre
and Maury[1] speak. The Jacobin Club was then in embryo. I wanted to
hear a speech, and the Vicomte de Noailles during dinner promised
that he would gratify me by making one. He accordingly took me to the
box, and went into the Tribune and began an oration upon some subject
trivial in itself, but made important by the vehemence of his manner.
The Wyndhams[2] joined me at Paris; Mr. Pelham[3] was also there, and
several other English.
Towards July I went by the way of Dijon through the Jura Mountains to
Lausanne. I lived for three months at Mon Repos, a spot celebrated as
having been the residence of Voltaire and the scene of much theatrical
festivity; it was there he composed and represented many of his
_chefs d’œuvre_, _Zaïre_, I believe, among the number.[4] My
society was composed of a mixture of French and English to the utter
exclusion of the Swiss.
Gibbon had for several years withdrawn himself from the turbulence and
neglect of his own capital to share the quiet and enjoy the adulation
of the inhabitants of the Pays de Vaud. He was treated by them more as
a prince than as an equal. Whenever he honoured their _goutées_
with his presence every person rose upon his entrance, and none thought
of resuming their chairs till he was seated. His whim arranged and
deranged all parties. All, in short, were subservient to his wishes;
those once known, everything was adapted to them. The Sheffields,[5]
Trevors, Mr. Pelham, Duc de Guines,[6] Mde. de Juigné, and Castries.
I knew Tissot.[7] Having my residence at Lausanne I made frequent
excursions. I went through Geneva to the Valley of Chamouny, saw the
glaciers; and at a small village in the road stopped to look at General
Phiffer’s model of Mt. Blanc; it was curious but inferior to that
at Lucerne. Our party to Chamouny consisted of the Sheffields, Mr.
Pelham, and some others whose names I have forgotten.[8]
[Sidenote: SWITZERLAND]
Soon after my return to Lausanne I made a tour through Berne to
Lucerne. I was too great a coward to go upon the lake, therefore I
only saw the views from the bridge and the high ground near the town,
as I was too indolent to ascend Mount Pilate. The spot so celebrated
by the heroic and incredible exploits of Guillaume Tell I only knew by
drawings, as it is not to be seen but by going to the Lac des Quatre
Cantons. Phiffer’s model of the whole of Switzerland is wonderful;
it is an exact representation of every object, lakes, mts., rivers.
Such representation of countries would be useful for military posts. I
returned by Soleure, Neuchâtel, and Fribourg and Vevey to Lausanne.
Towards the middle or end of September I began a journey to Nice. I
stopped at Geneva a day or two, and went with the Messrs. Calandrin to
see Ferney; it was in a desolate, ruined state, and showed few marks
of taste or comfort. We followed the Rhône to L’Écluse, where soon
after that it loses itself for some miles underground. The road is
beautiful. Annecy, where Rousseau lived, I believe we passed. Lyons is
a magnificent city, two fine rivers and broad, well-built quays with
sumptuous houses. The manufacturers complained of the revolutionary
spirit which deprived them of orders and workmen.
From thence I followed the Rhône to the Pont St. Esprit. The bridge
is singular and ingenious. The rapidity of the river had thrown down
the preceding bridges owing to a strong current rushing with violence
against the piers: to obviate this the architect made the bridge of
this form. It has succeeded, and the building is permanent. The Pont
de Gard is a magnificent remnant of Roman grandeur; it fulfilled the
double purpose of bridge and aqueduct. Orange, on account of massacres
at Avignon, we could not see. There are fine remains of triumphal
arches and other military trophies, raised to the honour of Marius,
who there defeated the formidable host of Northern barbarians, the
Teutons and Cimbri, though upon recollection I think he fought them
in the present Venetian territory. Upon the road there are vestiges
of triumphal buildings, erected in the Middle Ages, if one may judge
by the clumsy taste. At Nismes, the amphitheatre and Maison Carrée.
The latter is beautiful, and being the first specimen of Grecian
architecture I had ever seen I was delighted with the richness and
proportion of the edifice. The amphitheatre is small, and disfigured
by the filth and closeness of the adjacent houses. Like St. Paul’s
in London, it is impossible to judge of its magnitude or graceful
structure, as no exterior view can be obtained.
Marseilles is charmingly situated; fine town, a forest of shipping,
busy quays; and the liveliness of the pretty Bastides, all white upon
the surrounding hills, is delightful. This was the first view I had of
the Mediterranean. The deep blueness of its waters and the constant
fulness of its shores struck me with increasing admiration, as I always
thought the variation of the tide was a defect; for pleasing as variety
is, uniformity is preferable to such change as the tide produces--mud
and stench.
[Sidenote: NICE]
Aix is a pleasing town. Crossed the Esterelles, a high ridge of granite
mts.; the passage was infested by banditti, and we were obliged to
take some _maréchaussées_ to protect us. We passed without alarm
or interruption. Fréjus, the See of Fénelon, well deserves all the
disapprobation he bestows on it. Antibes, a gay pretty town; crossed at
Gué the torrent Var, and 4 miles after reached Nice. Some antiquaries
have supposed that the Var was the celebrated Rubicon, which once
passed was so fatal to the liberties of Rome.
I was left _alone_[9] at twenty years old in a foreign country
without a relation or any real friend, yet some of the least miserable,
I might add the most happy hours, of my life were passed there. I
lived with great discretion, even to prudery. I never admitted any
male visitors (except to numerous dinners), either in the morning or
evening, with the exception only of two--Dr. Drew, and a grave married
man, a Mr. Cowper. Drew used to spend the whole eve. with me, and give
me lectures on chemistry, natural history, philosophy, etc., etc. I
made frequent excursions about the neighbourhood, to Monaco, Villa
Franca, Monte Cavo, La Grotte de Chateauville, the convent of St. Pons,
old Cemenelium, etc.
In Feb. 1792 the Duncannons,[10] Dowr. Lady Spencer, Dss. of
Devonshire, came to Nice: my friendship begun there. I saw a Maltese
galley with some wretched Turkish slaves at the oar. The English
society was too numerous to be pleasant. I lived with a few only,--Dss.
of Ancaster, Ly. Rivers, Messrs. Ellis, Wallace, Cowper, etc. C.
Ellis[11] was a very old friend of mine; we were brought up for many
years absolutely together. As I had experienced such very cruel usage
from the unequal and ofttimes frantic temper of the man to whom I had
the calamity to be united, it was the wish of my mother, Lady Pelham,
Ly. Shelburne, and those I most respected, that I should never venture
myself in a journey alone with him, therefore as Mr. Ellis was going
part of the journey we meant to make, he joined our party. We also
conveyed an emigrant of the name of Beauval, an excellent, ingenious
young man.
_Sunday, May the 6th, 1792._--Left Nice for Turin. We took the
road across the Col de Tende. Just above the Convent of St. Pons, we
crossed the torrent Paglione, from whence I took a farewell look at the
lovely plain of Nice. We dined at L’Escaleine, a small village prettily
situated in the mts. We wound for many hours the numberless traverses
of a steep and lofty mt., and at night reached Sospello, a tolerable
_gîte_.
_7th._--Still among mts. Dined at Grandolla. Wretched inn at
Tende--no accommodation; only one room for us all.
On ye 8th the carriages were dismounted and carried over the Col de
Tende upon mules: I went over in a _chaise à porteurs_, so did my
child.
[Sidenote: TURIN]
Snow was melting very fast, and made the footing for the mules and
guides very insecure. We stopped at a small house at Borgo Limone as
one of the carriages was broken in getting it off the mule’s back.
_11th._--Arrived at Turin. Ly. Duncannon and Dss. were already
arrived. In the evening I went to Trevor’s:[12] he was the English
Minister. A celebrated performer on the violin attempted to render by
sound the story of _Werter_; the imagination must have supplied
greatly to assist the effect. All that I could understand was the
scene where he shoots himself; the twang of the catgut made a crash,
which made one start, so it had that effect in common with the report
of a pistol. During my stay at Turin I attended chemical lectures at
Bonvoisin’s; had I been able to apply more I might under his care have
advanced considerably in information. Cte. Masin gave me a very fine
dinner. Before dinner he sent for one of the Professors, who exhibited
the cruel experiment upon a frog to prove animal electricity.
I went one morning with Ly. D., Dss. Devonshire, etc., to La Venesia
to be presented to the Prince and Princesse de Piémont.[13] She is
in person like her brother the King of France. Since the downfall of
the clergy in France she has constantly worn the dress of a _Sœur
grise_. They are both bigoted and superstitious. I had many pleasant
parties to Montcalieri, La Superga, the Colline, etc. The Vallentin
is a singular old _château_ on the banks of the Po. It was built
by Christina, Dsse. de Savoie, one of the daughters of Henry IV. of
France. I made acquaintance for the first time with Mde. de Balbi.[14]
Previous to my leaving Turin we were surprised by the arrival of Ly.
Malmesbury[15] and G. Ellis.[16]
We left Turin on ye 10th June, 1792; our route was to Verona, and to
see Lago Maggiore in our way. We went to Arona that we might cross the
Ticino at Sesto, as there was a flood at Buffalora, the usual ferry.
Slept first night at Vercelli. After wading through very deep water for
a mile or two, caused by the overflowing of the lake, we reached, on
ye 12th, Arona, a small town charmingly situated on the lake. The next
day I summoned up courage and went upon the lake to see the Borromean
Islands. Just above the town of Arona stands the colossal statue of
St. Charles Borromeo, executed in 1650 by his family; it exceeds 100
ft. in height, allowing 64 for the figure and 46 for the pedestal.
This lake is longer than that of Geneva. The islands are beautiful.
The Isola Bella is the enchanted spot, on which the fairy palace and
gardens stand. Since the days of Circe and Armida nothing has equalled
the magic land, and little worthy of detention would be an Ulysses
and Rinaldo who could repine at seclusion in such a voluptuous abode.
The Palace is on an eminence, and pastures and terraces descend from
it to the water. Some of the apartments are made like grottoes and
are brought to the margin of the lake: without exaggeration it is a
spot apparently made by magic art. Prince Augustus[17] was seeing the
Palace. I there met with him for the first time. He is handsome and
well-bred.
[Sidenote: 1792 PAVIA AND MANTUA]
_13th._--Left Arona; crossed the Ticino and arrived very late at
Milan. The heat in the plains of Lombardy in the summer is intense; the
thermometer varied from 92 to 96 degrees Fahrenheit. The Litta family
live with princely splendour. The Csse. Maxe, celebrated in the annals
of _European_ gallantry, was very civil, and showed me all that
was worthy of notice. Padre Pini, an old Barnabite monk, gave me many
good specimens, especially of his Adularia, a species of felspar he has
discovered. I went over to Pavia to see the celebrated Spallanzani:[18]
he is the great friend of Bonnet of Geneva, and he is the man who has
made some filthy experiments upon digestion.
Pavia is a curious old town, formerly the capital of the Lombard Kings,
and in more modern times the scene of the disaster of the French army,
and the captivity of its monarch. Francis ye 1st here became prisoner
to the unfeeling, politic Charles V. The Cathedral is a specimen of
very early Gothic, misshapen and clumsy. The Po and Ticino join near
the city. Great preparations among the emigrants of Coblentz for
marching into France.
_22nd June._--Left Milan for Dresden. We skirted Lodi, famous
for its cheeses and deep sands. A violent thunderstorm came on at
Pizzighettone, where I stopped; and notwithstanding abuse and threats
I was resolved to stay and not risk my life and my child’s with hot
horses near a deep river during a heavy storm.
_23rd._--Got to Mantua. The waters of the Mincio being suffered to
stagnate, the wells about Mantua are unwholesome and bad. The Palais
du T. [_sic_] is a pretty villa belonging to the ancient Princes
of Gonzaga. The walls are painted in fresco by _Giulio Romano_,
the best of Raphael’s scholars: the subject represents the ‘Battle of
the Giants.’ I looked around in vain for a beech tree under whose wide
spreading branches a Tityrus was wont to recline and amuse his little
lambkins with the soft notes of his pipe in the days of the Mantuan
Bard. Tho’ Vergil was born, one might doubt much if he was bred, here;
he seems to have described the pastoral manners of some happier soil of
Italy.
The party reached Verona on the 24th. ‘The town is
handsome; the bridge over the Adige very fine. The Corso
is very noble.’ They left again two days later, and at Ala
entered the Tyrol.
The entrance is through a narrow gorge, apparently opened by an
earthquake, and probably widened by the deep and rapid course of the
Adige. The mts. are not very high till Mt. Baldo, which does not exceed
a 1000 ft. Between Ala and Roveredo we passed among rocks that have
suffered some great convulsion; at a distance they resemble the ruins
of a demolished city. A calcareous mountain stood where the road now
passes; probably in one tremendous night when all the elements were
waging war, the loud rolling thunder and the forked lightning darting
upon this ill-fated spot, the earth trembled with the shock and the
side of the mountain was split and broken into a thousand pieces. The
falling of the mt., tho’ no history records the event, does not appear
to have happened at an early period. The fragments are still sharp and
angular. Owing to a fair at Trent we were forced to remain at Roveredo.
Since the league of Cambray Roveredo is no longer in the possession of
the Venetians.
[Sidenote: 1792 INNSPRUCK]
_27th._--The road from thence is through a tolerably well
cultivated country of vines and mulberries, thro’ which the Adige moves
along irregularly, sometimes slowly, at other times rapidly. The road
in many places is very narrow with a precipice to the river undefended
by a parapet. Monr. de Calonne was overturned into the river, and but
for the assistance of Messrs. Wallace and Ellis, in the year ’91, must
have been drowned.
After passing Neumarck, the travellers arrived at Brixen on
the 28th.
Brixen is prettily situated in a very fertile vale; vines and corn
appear in abundance. The hills are cultivated and a more genial soil
is the consequence. The churches and castles built on the tops of
craggy rocks along this valley are singularly romantic. The valley
is extremely populous, and the younger part of the inhabitants have
extremely pretty faces.
At Innspruck we were compelled to remain two nights, as we had not
the plea of being Aulic Counsellors or Ambassadors. It is a paltry
restriction on travellers that they must consent, unless privileged, to
remain eight and forty hours in Austrian territory--a sort of tax that
one must spend money in their dominions. In the principal church there
is a magnificent tomb erected to the memory of the Emperor Maximilian,
grandfather to Charles V. He was a complying, weak Prince, of whom
Abbé Raynal says in his _Mémoires Historiques_ ‘Il n’inspirait
point de reconnaissance, quoiqu’il accordat presque tout qu’on lui
demandait: on sentait qu’il ne cherchait pas à obliger, mais qu’il ne
savait pas refuser.’ Near the town is a castle, the residence of the
Archduchess, Governor of the Tyrol; the arsenal contains a curious
collection of different suits of armour, which belonged to some of the
most celebrated of warriors. I went to a German play, the pantomime of
which, tho’ a deep tragedy, diverted me much, tho’ I did not comprehend
a word of the dialogue.
_2nd July._--Took the road to Munich. Immediately on leaving the
town began ascending; slept at Wallensee, prettily situated among the
mts., near a small lake. The change of temperature was sensible:
thermometer in the morning at Innspruck was 75, at Wallensee fell to 59.
_3rd July._--Large clumps of the spruce fir dotted over rich
plains and fertile hills, with a noble view of the mts. we were
quitting, made a view not altogether insipid.
The approach to Munich is not imposing; it denotes little of the
magnificence of a capital. The town is large and irregular; the houses
are more substantial and imposing than magnificent; many are thatched,
and those that are not have high roofs, gable ends, and garret windows.
I was labouring under such low spirits, that the prejudice I felt
against Munich was owing to the unhappiness I endured there.
Count Rumford,[19] an American of the name of Benjamin Thompson, was
the Prime Minister of Bavaria. He has made some excellent reforms in
the governt. of that country, and created many beneficial institutions
for the poor. He was very civil, and showed me with a degree of
minuteness, with which I could have dispensed, all his hospitals,
manufactures, etc. I was compelled to see what I did not wish, his
beloved, a Mde. Nogarolla.
Went from Munich to Ratisbon. Here I first hailed the Danube, a mighty
stream, the prince of rivers. I purchased a gun and pair of pistols of
the famous Kerkenrüyter to make a present to Mr. Pelham. The maker
told me he had sold to Col. Lennox the identical pair he used against
the Duke of York. It was scarcely fair to use such sure weapons.
[Sidenote: LORD HENRY SPENCER]