Chapter I: Part 1

_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]

Reached Dresden in ye night of the 21st. We found a numerous society of English, Lord H. Spencer,[20] Mr. Robt. Markham, Mr. Elliot,[21] English Minister, Ct. Stopford, and afterwards Lds. Boringdon and Granville Leveson-Gower. Ld. Henry was there on his way to Vienna, whither he was to carry the compliment upon the accession of the Emperor. He was then Secretary at the Hague under Ld. Auckland. His abilities were spoken highly of; at Eton he was known as a poet in the _Microcosm_.[22] His shyness embarrassed him, and rendered his manner awkward. He was very witty, and possessed a superabundant stock of irony. In short, he became ardently in love with me, and he was the first man who had ever produced the slightest emotion in my heart.

I was received at Dresden with a degree of distinction that was highly flattering. I would not go to Court; the Princesses sent a civil, reproachful message, and begged me to see them _en particulier_ at one of their villas. I went, and an embarrassing circumstance occurred. The Prince Antony, by some mistake, took me for Ld. Henry’s wife, complimented him upon my beauty, _agréments_, etc., and concluded by saying, ‘I see by your admiration and love for her you are worthy to possess her.’ This said before ten people was too painful to bear. Had I been very accessible to vanity on the score of person, I could not have resisted the flattery I everywhere met with: dinners, fêtes, etc., given to me; invitations sent to people on purpose to meet ‘La charmante Miladi’; my dress copied, my manner studied.

_The 2nd of August, 1792._--Very pleasant supper at the French Minister’s, Baron de Montesquieu. The Duke of Brunswick’s Manifesto filled everybody with astonishment and alarm for the lives and liberties of the Royal family.[23] This rash and violent diatribe against the Parisians was a precursor of an invasion of France. Seventeen thousand of the Provincial troops were to be assembled on ye 14th July at Paris, and it was said that if the Prussians, etc., advanced into the country, that the King would be conveyed to Blois; then troops are supposed to be already destined to that service, and the Parisians are already jealous of them.

In England, the Association of the Friends of the People alarm the steady, and the example of France terrifies even the moderate innovators.[24] The Association was formed without the participation of Mr. Fox;[25] he never was consulted about it. On the contrary the Association seemed determined against all advice, but most particularly against his. Thinking people apprehend more from the superabundant loyalty of the country than from its Democracy. There are to be Addresses from all parts of the Kingdom, thanking the King for his Proclamation and professing attachment to his Person and Governt. Extremes are dangerous.

[Sidenote: THE FRIENDS OF THE PEOPLE]

Left Dresden in September; went by Prague to Vienna. I was much pleased with my residence there; I was fêted enough to gratify the most unbounded vanity. I went to Court; a separate private introduction to the Emperor and Empress. Sir Robert Keith was the English Minister. The Countess Thuron was the lady who went about with me. Made an excursion to Presburg, the capital of Hungary. Ld. Henry was there. We parted on September the 25th or 26th, not later.

From Vienna we went to Venice by the road of Gratz, thro’ Styria and Carinthia. On our arrival at Venice Mr. Ellis was dangerously ill of a putrid fever. He recovered by the care of a Jew doctor. We stayed a short time after his recovery; went by way of Mantua to Parma. From thence to Bologna and Florence. Mr. Ellis left us at Florence to return to England. We went on by the road of Radicofani to Rome (where we staid only two nights), then to Naples, which we reached about the 2nd week in October.