went out visiting one day, and, in returning in his gig, he touched a
horse of a row of carts. The carter struck me upon my back with his
whip; I jumped down, and six jumped at me. I fortunately was between a
wheel and a hedge, so that they all could not reach. Lloyd, seeing this,
jumped down also; then three left me and went to him, and another untied
a piece of his wagon with which, while I defended myself from the two
(one with a whip), he struck me while fortunately my arm was striking a
blow, so that it did but just touch my face. He lifted again; I sprang
back, and with all the force of my leap struck him with my fist in his
face. His blow fell to the ground, and with his hand to his nose he
retreated. They then seized stones to throw, but we closed with them;
they could not throw above two, when we saw an English carriage we knew
coming. We called, they came, and immediately the boisterous [fellows?]
were calm. Some who tried to divide us got blows also.
St. Aubyn, an excellent fellow, introduced me to his father at Genthoud:
is a natural son, studying for the Church. His father is a good polite
man, according to the "go" school.[16] Keeps a mistress now, though
sixty-five years: has many children by different mistresses.
At Dr. Odier's—who is a good old, toothless, chatty, easy-believing
man—there was a society every Wednesday, where I went sometimes. They
danced, sang, ate cakes, and drank tea; English almost entirely,
changing every Wednesday.—Went to a concert of Madamigella Coda—the
theatre dirty.
When Mr. Hobhouse and Davies arrived, we went to Chamounix. The first
day through Chesne, Annemasse, Vetra, Nangy, Contamine, Bonneville
(dinner), Cluses, Sallenches (slept). Next day by Chede in two
_char-à-bancs_, with each a guide; a fine pine-glen of the Arve, to
Chamounix. We went that evening over the Brisson, and to the source of
the Aveyron. Next day so bad we left, and returned to Sallenches, taking
the fall of Chede in our way; thence to Diodati. Mr. Scrope Davies
played against the marker at tennis: then went, taking Rushton with him.
[Rushton was one of the servants.]
L[ord] B[yron] determined upon our parting,—not upon any quarrel, but on
account of our not suiting. Gave me £70; 50 for 3 months and 20 for
voyage. Paid away a great deal, and then thought of setting off:
determined for Italy. Madame de Staël gave me three letters. Madame
B[relaz?] wept, and most seemed sorry.
[I suppose that most likely the "Madame B." here is Madame Brelaz, with
whom, as stated on p. 145, Polidori was "in love." Or it might perhaps
be the Comtesse de Breuss.]
The night before I went, at Madame B[reuss?]'s, they acted _C'est le
Même_ extremely well; a Lausanne girl acting the lady very well. The
costumes also extremely good. Wished nobody good-bye: told them, though,
I was going. Set off with 47 louis, 112 naps.
Le Valais from Schürer's book, _Description du Département du Simplon_,
1812, lent me by the Cav[aliere]. See elsewhere.
_September 16._—Left Cologny and Lord Byron at six in the morning.
Breakfasted at Doraine, 3 leagues. Dined, Thouson, ditto. Evrein, 2.
Slept St. Gingoux, 4. Passed Meillerie. Saw Lausanne at a distance,
right through this part of Sardinian King's dominions. Read Madame
Brelaz's verses. Wept—not at them, but at the prose.
_September 17._—Left St. Gingoux at 6. Walked to ——.[17] Took bread and
wine. Crossed to Chillon. Saw Bonivard's prison for six years; whence a
Frenchman had broken, and, passing through a window, swam to a boat.
Instruments of torture,—the pulley. Three soldiers there now: the Roman
arms already affixed. Large subterranean passes. Saw in passing the
three treed islands. The Rhone enters by two mouths, and keeps its
waters distinct for two stones' throw.
From Chillon I went to Montreaux—breakfasted—leaving Charney on my left.
I began to mount towards the Dent de Jamanu. Before beginning to mount
Jamanu itself, one has a beautiful view, seeing only part of the lake,
bound by Meillerie, Roches, and the Rhone. Higher up the view is more
extensive, but not so beautiful—nothing being distinct; the water
looking merely as an inlet of sky, but one could see the Jura as far as
Genthoud.
I entered a chalet, where they expressed great astonishment at my
drinking whey, which they give to their pigs only. Refused at first
money.
Descended towards Mont Boyon. What owing to the fatigue and hardly
meeting any one, sick with grief. At Mont Boyon dined, and, finding they
would not dance, slept immediately after.
_September 18._—Up at 4. Drank wine and bread. At 6 set off. Passed the
Château d'Ox where there was a fair. After that, hardly met a soul.
Always on the side of the mountains, each side of a river or torrent;
with torrent-beds, pine-forests, chalets, villages without a visible
soul—all at work—and ups and downs: so that this road, if I had not had
that of yesterday, I should have called the worst in the world. Passed
through Château d'Ox; Rougemont, breakfast; Zwezermann, dinner;
Gessenay; Lambeck; Reichenstein; Weissenbach; Bottingen, tea and night.
The French language leaves off at Gessenay (rather, patois), and they
begin their German: found it difficult to go on.
_September 19._—Got up at 4-1/2. Set off from Bottingen. Went through
Obernoyle. Breakfasted at Wyssenbach: refused my money. Went to the
Doctor, who charged me a nap. Went through Erlenbach, Lauterbach,
Meiningen, to Thun. Splendid scenery; especially the first look at the
Lake by the river's mouth, and the pass into a great valley. Took
dinner, and then a warm bath. Arrived at 1 o'clock. All the houses are
of wood, the foundation only being stone: great cut ornaments between
the rows of windows: the wood, fir. Felt very miserable, especially
these two last days: only met two persons to whom I could speak—the
others all Germans. At Wyssenbach they all said grace before breakfast,
and then ate out of the same dish; remarking (as I understood them) that
I, not being a Catholic, would laugh.
[It was a mistake to suppose that Dr. Polidori was "not a Catholic." He
was brought up as a Catholic, and never changed his religion, but may (I
suppose) have been something of a sceptic.]
_September 20._—Got up at 6. Wrote to St. Aubyn, Brelaz, father, Vaccà,
and Zio, asking letters; to my father, to announce my parting.
[Vaccà was a celebrated surgeon at Pisa, of whom we shall hear farther.
Zio is "my uncle"—_i.e._ Luigi Polidori, also at Pisa.]
Bought fresh shoes and stockings; found no book-seller's shop. The man
at the post-office made a good reflection: that he was astonished so
many came to see what they who were so near never want to see, and that
he supposed that the English also leave much unseen in their own
country.
Thun is a neat well-situated town, not large, with arcades—as apparently
all the Berne towns. Afraid all day my dog was poisoned; which grieved
me so, at seeing it vomit, that I wept. At 2 o'clock went in search of a
boat: none going immediately, I walked along the left bank of the lake
to Unterseen. The views the most beautiful I ever saw; through pines
over precipices, torrents, and sleepers [?][18] and the best-cultivated
fields I ever saw. The lake sometimes some hundred precipitous feet
below my feet; at other times quite close to its edge; boats coming from
the fair; picturesque towered villages; fine Alps on the other side, the
Jungfrau and others far off. The bottom of the lake is especially
magnificent. Lost my way, and had two little children as guides back
again. One small cascade of seven or eight fountains.
Arrived at 7 at Unterseen: through Nilterfingen, Oberhofen, Rottingen,
Morlangen, Neuchaus, to Unterseen. Found two Englishmen at supper: sat
down with them. Very miserable all the morning.
_September 21._—Got up at 6, having determined to go with the two to the
Grindenwald in a _char-à-banc_, on account of the state of my foot. I
went to the bridge at Interlachen to see the view coming between two
beautiful isolated crags. Going, met a man, a maréchal, who had been to
Vienna and Bohemia _en roulant_ after his apprenticeship, to see the
world—stopping a day at one place, a day at another. Returned,
breakfasted: and then, after growling at the innkeeper's wishing us to
take two horses, we went off through splendid pine-clad craggy valleys
through Zweihitschirne to Lauterbrunner; whence to the fall of the
Staubach, a bare cataract of 900 feet high, becoming vapour before it
arrives—appearing much, and ending in a little stream. The curate of
this village receives guests: there were the Prince Saxe-Gotha and
family. We lunched at the inn, and went back to Lauterbrunner after
having looked at the Jungfrau at a distance.
Went from Zweihitschirne to the Grindenwald with the Saxe-Gotha before
us, through a more beautiful valley. Saw the glaciers come into it, with
the Eiger, Wetterhorn, and other mountains, most magnificent. Walking
about, found two girls who gave us cherries and chatted freely. Found
that mules were 18 francs a day. A party came in in the dark at 8 with
guides, hallooing and making a lively sound. Dined at 7, and talked
about mules, hoping to get return ones etc.
_September 22._—Got up. Could not get mules under 18 francs: my foot too
bad to walk. Went with Captain Rice and others back to Interlachen. Got
into a boat rowed by two men and a boy. Went by Brientz, Calne, to the
Griesbach cascade, and then to Brientz—wilder, but not so beautiful as
the Lake of Thun. The cascade I did not mount to see on account of my
foot. At Brientz an old woman would give us her presence and
conversation till one of my companions courted the daughter. Met between
Grindenwald and Interlachen L[ord] B[yron] and Mr. H[obhouse]: we
saluted.
_September 23._—Got up at 4. Tired of my company; and, finding the
expense more than I could afford, I went to their bedrooms to wish them
good-bye. Set off at 5-1/2; and through fine copse-wooded crags, along
the Aar, with cascades on every side, to Meyringen; where I breakfasted
with two Germans, an old and a young artist—the old, chatty. Bought a
pole. Went to see the Reichenbach, a fine cascade indeed. Thence through
the beautiful vale of Nach-im-Grunden, where for a moment I planned a
sovereignty; but, walking on, my plans faded before I arrived at
Guttannen, where I dined.
Rode all the way to-day—horrible, only passable for men and mules: it is
the way to St. Gothard. The road is merely huge unequal masses of
granite thrown in a line not the straightest. From Guttannen the road
went through the wildest and most sublime scenery I ever read of:
vegetation less and less, so that, instead of grass, there was moss;
then nothing. Instead of trees, shrubs; then nothing—huge granite rocks
leaving hardly room for the road and river. The river's bed the most
magnificent imaginable, cut deep and narrow into the solid rock,
sinuous, and continually accompanied by cascades, and amazing bold and
high single-arched bridges. Snow covering in some parts the whole bed of
the river, and so thick and strong that even huge stones have fallen
without injuring its crust. There are only two houses between Guttannen
and the Hospital: one, a chalet wherein I entered; the other, a
cow-herd's. Arrived at 6 o'clock precisely, having walked in only 9-1/2
hours 30 miles at least.
[This is a little indistinct in connexion with what precedes. I suppose
that the phrase "rode all the way to-day" must be understood as meaning
"all the way up to Guttannen"; and that, after leaving Guttannen, there
were 30 miles of walking before the Hospital was reached. Yet this seems
an unreasonably heavy day's work in travelling. After "only 9-1/2" the
initial written is "m": but I presume it ought to be "h" (hours).]
The Hospital is an old stone ugly building, consonant with the wild
scene, where the poor are lodged for nothing; others, us, [as?] an inn.
_September 24._—On account of rain did not get up till 7. Set off across
the Grimsel, a dreary mountain with snow in every hollow—5000 feet above
the Four-canton Lake. Descended on the other side to Obergustellen,
where I breakfasted at 10. Thence through Verlican, Guesquerman,
Munster, Rexingen, Biel, Blizzen; where, out of the dead flat valley, I
began to mount, and the scenery began to increase in beauty. One bridge
especially over the Rhone, which fell between two clefts' sides, was
beautiful. Sinderwald, Viesch, pine-wood; sax (?) along the rocks, and
fine path along the mountain. Very fine, though continued hard rain,
which drenched me and hindered my seeing a great deal. To Morel, where I
went to bed, and ate a kind of dinner in bed at 7 o'clock.
_September 25._—Up at 5; my foot, from having been obliged to walk with
the shoe down at heel, very much swelled and too painful to walk.
Breakfast. Two students from Brieg, of the Jesuits' College, came in,
who had during the vacations been beyond Constance with only two _écus
neufs_ in their pockets. It costs them ten batsches a year at College.
Impudent one: the other modest-looking, but, when I gave him six francs
because he had no more money, he asked me for more on other accounts.
The Jesuits been restored two years.
At Brieg[19] I sent for the curate, a good old man of sixty. We
conversed together in Latin for two hours; not at all troublesome in
enquiries, but kind in answering them. The Valaisians resisted two years
against the French in 93. It was the only part of the country in which
they did so, except Unterwalden, and then it was only the peasants, and
in every village there was a French party. The cruelty of the French was
dreadful; they stuck their prisoners in a variety of ways like sheep.
One old man of eighty, who had never left his house but whom they found
eating, they strangled, and then put meat and bottles by him as if he
had died apoplectic. They fought very hard and bravely, but such was the
power of numbers united to the force of treachery that they were obliged
to yield. In 1813, after the French had quitted Brieg, they again
attempted to penetrate from Italy by the Simplon; when the Brieg, Kelor
[?], and other villagers, joined by only one company of Austrians,
surrounded them in the night, and took them prisoners. In Schwytz [?]
and Unterwalden the division was more strongly marked. In Unterwalden
(where was the scene) the men [?] divided and fought against each other,
some joining the French from Stanz [?] to Engelberg. They were for
freedom, and fought as the cause deserved. They killed 5000 French, more
than double their own number; women fought; they were in all 2100 Swiss.
One maid in the ranks, when her comrades were obliged to retreat, seeing
a cannon yet unfired, went with a rope-end and fired it, killing thirty
[?] French. She was taken; a pardon was offered. She said, "I do not
acknowledge any pardon; my action is not pardonable; a thief [one?]
pardons, not a just man." They killed her with swords. The hundred men
who came from the higher part of Schwytz, attempting to go to their
relief, were through their own countrymen forced to cut their way and
march by night; and, when in retreating they came to the other shore of
Lucerne Lake, they had again to cut through their own countrymen to
arrive at their homes, they refusing them permission to pass. The
Austrians, for the help the higher Valaisians gave them, from sovereigns
have made them subjects to the lower Valaisians. The curate came in
again, with a description of the Simplon; sat an hour and a half, then
left the book. When [he was] not here I have written the part of my
Journal I missed at the time, and the extract from his book. He came in
again about 6 with a basket of prunes for me, and offered to go with me
half-way, as he had to go to a church on the way.
_September 26._—Got up at 5. The curate came, and, my foot being better,
I set off. He showed me the bridge over the Massa where was a battle,
and the ruins of a tyrant's tower. We came to his church, where he
showed me the miraculous figure that was found in the Rhone. He told me
the lower Valaisians were ready to join the French in '13, and that, in
spite of this, they [the Austrians?] had given them a majority of
voices. Left me in sight of Brieg, telling me he hoped to see me again
in heaven. I walked on to Brieg; breakfasted, and then set off along the
Simplon, a magnificent road indeed. It is cut in many places through the
rocks, in others built up to its side. It has caverns and bridges always
wide enough for four carriages; it ascends all the way to the new
Hospice, and again descends from it. At its side are houses of refuge
(as they are called) where many are kept by government, with privilege
of selling food to help the passers-by. There is in each a room with a
bed where one can go in case of rain, accident, etc.; and, when the time
for avalanches etc., these men are obliged to accompany the travellers
from house to house. Just where the rising ends the new Hospital was to
have been erected, and is half done, but stopped now. A little farther
on is the old one; whither I went, and got a dinner in the cell of one
of the monks; bread, wine, cold meat, and nuts. He seemed very _ennuyé_;
his words slowly fell; said they were St. Augustines, not St.
Bernardites. That St. Bernard was a mere reformer of the order. They
have been here since 1810 only, in an old castle for which they pay £20
a year. The Simplon was a department of France, and rather well off on
account of the quantity of work and money, and not having the _droits_
revenues. The Archduke Regnier was there a few days ago incog., and they
did not recognize him—which mortified them very much. It is six leagues
hither from Brieg, so that I had walked twenty-six miles.
I set off at 2: passed through Sempeln[?], and through the most
magnificent scenery, through the granite galleries. The Italian part is
by far the most difficult and splendid. The first boy that I met before
coming to Isella, in answer to a question in German, answered "Non
capisco";[20] I could have hugged. I arrived after much difficulty at
Isella, knocked up. I was ruined in my feet, and it was not till near
here that the carriages which parted in the morning from Brieg overtook
me. Went to bed immediately in a room where the grease might be scraped
from the floor.
_September 27._—Did not get up till 1 on account of fatigue. Breakfasted
most miserably, everything being bad; and then set off, but immensely
slowly till a cart overtook me. Entered; lay upon the logs of wood and
hay, and was driven to Domo d'Ossola. Is it imagination only that I find
the sky finer, the country where cultivated extremely rich,
green-looking? The dress of the women picturesque, blue with red stripes
here and there; the men more acute and quicker-eyed. Arrived at Domo
d'Ossola at 3; got into a clean though poor inn, and dined well. A
gendarme came in to ask how it was that my passport had not been viséd
yet; and then, seeing I was a physician, requested a cure for his
toothache. It is useless to describe the picturesque: the best page to
turn to for it is the memory. After one of the most comfortable
fireside-evenings I have had since I left Geneva I went to bed at 7-1/2.
_September 28._—Set off at 6 o'clock through vine-country, with little
hills here and there starting out of the low Alps, highly cultivated,
with beautiful little white villas at their tops and sides. Asked a
woman what was a house whereon was painted a Democritus, Diogenes, etc.
Answered, "È roba antica"[21]—though evidently modern, but deserted.
Indeed, the whole of the houses seem too large for the inhabitants—much
falling to ruin. From Domo d'Ossola went to Vella; to Vagagna, where I
breakfasted and saw the first good-looking Italian girl. The children
are pretty, the women quite otherwise. There began to suffer from my
feet so much as that to go about six more miles took me five hours. No
car passed me, or anything.
I arrived at last at Ornavasco. Could get no car, though they kept me
half-an-hour in the yard standing, in hopes of getting one. At last
agreed with a man that he should set off at 4 o'clock to-morrow to
Fariolo for 4 francs. Looked at a bedroom: shrugged up my shoulders, but
forced. Dinner: no meat, because "meagre." Ate the fruit. The Italian
grapes, nectarines, peaches, and pears, I got yesterday, excellent. Two
bunches of grapes half-a-franc: two at dinner.
_Sunday, September 29._—Up at 5. Got into the char, or rather cart.
Passed through Gravellino to Fariolo. Asked 10 francs to take me to
Laveno: offered 4—accepted. Got into the boat. Rowed towards Isola
Madre; passed Isola Pescatori; and landed on Isola Bella.
Went over the palace. Many of the floors miserable on account of their
being the mere rock. Some good pictures. A whole set of rooms below in
the style of grottoes, with windows looking on to beautiful views, close
to the lake for _il fresco_. Looked at the terrace: not pleasing the
style: and, thinking I should see it all in going round, did not go over
the gardens. Went round the island in the boat; magnificently paved,
like terrace on terrace.
Thence towards Laveno, intending to go to Lugano and Como; but, hearing
that I could go all the way by water to Milan, I preferred this, and
accordingly turned round towards Belgirato. Breakfasted on _caffè al
latte_, _uve_, _and fichi_,[22] 4-1/2 francs. Boatman proposed my
joining a party to Sestri-Calende, which I did. Arona, with the
colossus, on my left, Anghera on my right; Monte Rosa; all the bottom
part of the lake richly magnificent.
[The colossus is the celebrated gigantic statue of San Carlo Borromeo.]
Arrived at an inn—taken for a servant. After some time things got round,
when in came two soldiers with swords by their sides, to desire me to
step to the police-inspector. I did, and found he could not read the
writing in my passport. The boatman came soon after, offering me a plan
for to-morrow for five francs, and showing me twelve naps. they got for
the boat—which cost only seventy francs. Agreed.
_September 30._—Up at 5. Off at 6 in a large barge, with yesterday's
English party and two carriages, by the Tessino and canal to Milan: at
first through a fine hilly country, and rapidly by the Tessino flood.
After, slower, and through a flat plain with trees and neat villas and
hanging grapes, to Milan. Slept out of the town by the canal.
_October 1._—Up at 7.
[Polidori blunderingly calls this "September 31": he also calls the day
a Monday, but October 1, 1816, was a Tuesday. For the next following day
he rightly writes "October 2."]
The boatman came as I had desired, to guide me. Entered Milan by a fine
gate with a kind of triumphal arch. The streets are clean but
narrow—fine houses. There are two strips of pavement for wheels, and
often two for pedestrians. Passed by Santa Maria—fine, all white marble,
with many fine statues on the outside. Many palaces. A bad taste shown
in plastering the columns and corner-stones of a lighter colour than the
body.
Got a letter from Brelaz; well written in composition and in letters,
but badly spelled. Got my trunk, after some difficulty, passed. The
diligence-keepers asked if they could direct me to rooms: showed two
where a man was at that moment going. Got them for 40 lire il mese; a
bedroom and sitting-room, second storey, Contrado San Spirito. Sent to
the custom-house. Made the men wait—sent them away for two hours, again
away for one. More stoppages, and, in centimes, 3 francs to pay. They
would not at first let it (the trunk) go because it was the last day of
the month.
[Did they share Polidori's blunder that the day was September 31?]
Went to dine at a restaurateur's: 1-1/2-franc dinner. Afterwards put my
things into a little order, dressed, and went strolling towards Teatro
della Scala. Entered, two hours before beginning, alone. Immense
theatre: six rows of boxes, with, I think, thirty-six in a row. _La
Testa di Bronzo_, a ballet, and a comic ballet: the ballet the most
magnificent thing I ever saw—splendid indeed.