"Milan, October 15. 1816.
"I hear that Mr. Davies has arrived in England,--but that of some
letters, &c., committed to his care by Mr. H., only _half_ have
been delivered. This intelligence naturally makes me feel a little
anxious for mine, and amongst them for the MS., which I wished to
have compared with the one sent by me through the hands of Mr.
Shelley. I trust that _it_ has arrived safely,--and indeed not less
so, that some little crystals, &c., from Mont Blanc, for my
daughter and my nieces, have reached their address. Pray have the
goodness to ascertain from Mr. Davies that no accident (by
custom-house or loss) has befallen them, and satisfy me on this
point at your earliest convenience.
"If I recollect rightly, you told me that Mr. Gifford had kindly
undertaken to correct the press (at my request) during my
absence--at least I hope so. It will add to my many obligations to
that gentleman.
"I wrote to you, on my way here, a short note, dated Martigny. Mr.
Hobhouse and myself arrived here a few days ago, by the Simplon
and Lago Maggiore route. Of course we visited the Borromean
Islands, which are fine, but too artificial. The Simplon is
magnificent in its nature and its art,--both God and man have done
wonders,--to say nothing of the devil who must certainly have had a
hand (or a hoof) in some of the rocks and ravines through and over
which the works are carried.
"Milan is striking--the cathedral superb. The city altogether
reminds me of Seville, but a little inferior. We had heard divers
bruits, and took precautions on the road, near the frontier,
against some 'many worthy fellows (i.e. felons) that were out,' and
had ransacked some preceding travellers, a few weeks ago, near
Sesto,--or _C_esto, I forget which,--of cash and raiment, besides
putting them in bodily fear, and lodging about twenty slugs in the
retreating part of a courier belonging to Mr. Hope. But we were not
molested, and I do not think in any danger, except of making
mistakes in the way of cocking and priming whenever we saw an old
house, or an ill-looking thicket, and now and then suspecting the
'true men,' who have very much the appearance of the thieves of
other countries. What the thieves may look like, I know not, nor
desire to know, for it seems they come upon you in bodies of thirty
('in buckram and Kendal green') at a time, so that voyagers have no
great chance. It is something like poor dear Turkey in that
respect, but not so good, for there you can have as great a body of
rogues to match the regular banditti; but here the gens d'armes are
said to be no great things, and as for one's own people, one can't
carry them about like Robinson Crusoe with a gun on each shoulder.
"I have been to the Ambrosian library--it is a fine
collection--full of MSS. edited and unedited. I enclose you a list
of the former recently published: these are matters for your
literati. For me, in my simple way, I have been most delighted with
a correspondence of letters, all original and amatory, between
_Lucretia Borgia_ and _Cardinal Bembo_, preserved there. I have
pored over them and a lock of her hair, the prettiest and fairest
imaginable--I never saw fairer--and shall go repeatedly to read the
epistles over and over; and if I can obtain some of the hair by
fair means, I shall try. I have already persuaded the librarian to
promise me copies of the letters, and I hope he will not disappoint
me. They are short, but very simple, sweet, and to the purpose;
there are some copies of verses in Spanish also by her; the tress
of her hair is long, and, as I said before, beautiful. The Brera
gallery of paintings has some fine pictures, but nothing of a
collection. Of painting I know nothing; but I like a Guercino--a
picture of Abraham putting away Hagar and Ishmael--which seems to
me natural and goodly. The Flemish school, such as I saw it in
Flanders, I utterly detested, despised, and abhorred; it might be
painting, but it was not nature; the Italian is pleasing, and their
_ideal_ very noble.
"The Italians I have encountered here are very intelligent and
agreeable. In a few days I am to meet Monti. By the way, I have
just heard an anecdote of Beccaria, who published such admirable
things against the punishment of death. As soon as his book was
out, his servant (having read it, I presume) stole his watch; and
his master, while correcting the press of a second edition, did all
he could to have him hanged by way of advertisement.
"I forgot to mention the triumphal arch begun by Napoleon, as a
gate to this city. It is unfinished, but the part completed worthy
of another age and the same country. The society here is very oddly
carried on,--at the theatre, and the theatre only,--which answers
to our opera. People meet there as at a rout, but in very small
circles. From Milan I shall go to Venice. If you write, write to
Geneva, as before--the letter will be forwarded.
"Yours ever."
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