FROM THE REV. JOSEPH TUCKERMAN TO MRS. SOMERVILLE.Boston,August 28th, 1834.My dear Madam,I have very great pleasure in sending to you an autograph letter of your and our glorious Washington. I obtained it from Mr. Sparks, who had the gratification of seeing you when he was in England, and who told me when I applied to him for it, that there is no one in the world to whom he would be so glad to give it. It is beyond comparison the best and almost the only remaining one at his disposal among the "Washington" papers.I am again in my family and in the field of my ministry.But very dear to me are my associations with scenes and friends in England; and most glad should I be if I could renew that intercourse with yourself, and with the intellect and virtue around you, to which I have been indebted for great happiness, and which, I hope, has done something to qualify me for a more efficient service. Will you please to present my very sincere respects to your husband, and to recall me to the kind remembrance of your children. With the highest respect and regard, allow me to call myself.Your friend,Joseph Tuckerman.
FROM THE REV. JOSEPH TUCKERMAN TO MRS. SOMERVILLE.
Boston,August 28th, 1834.
I have very great pleasure in sending to you an autograph letter of your and our glorious Washington. I obtained it from Mr. Sparks, who had the gratification of seeing you when he was in England, and who told me when I applied to him for it, that there is no one in the world to whom he would be so glad to give it. It is beyond comparison the best and almost the only remaining one at his disposal among the "Washington" papers.
I am again in my family and in the field of my ministry.
But very dear to me are my associations with scenes and friends in England; and most glad should I be if I could renew that intercourse with yourself, and with the intellect and virtue around you, to which I have been indebted for great happiness, and which, I hope, has done something to qualify me for a more efficient service. Will you please to present my very sincere respects to your husband, and to recall me to the kind remembrance of your children. With the highest respect and regard, allow me to call myself.
Your friend,Joseph Tuckerman.
I think it must have been on returning from the American station, or may be later in the career of my father's life, that a circumstance occurred which distressed him exceedingly. Highway robberies were common on all the roads in the vicinity of London, but no violence was offered. My father was travelling alone over Blackheath when the postilion was ordered to stop, a pistol presented at my father, and his purse demanded. My father at once recognised the voice as that of a shipmate, and exclaimed, "Good God! I know that voice! can it be young——? I am dreadfully shocked; I have a hundred pounds which shall be yours—come intothe carriage, and let me take you to London, where you will be safe." ... "No, no," the young man said, "I have associates whom I cannot leave—it is too late." ... It was too late; he was arrested eventually and suffered. Years afterwards when by some accident my father mentioned this event, he was deeply affected, and never would tell the name of the young man who had been his mess-mate.
FOOTNOTES:[12]M. Pellegrino Rossi, afterwards Minister of France at Rome, then Prime Minister to Pius the Ninth; murdered in 1848 on the steps of the Cancelleria, at Rome.
[12]M. Pellegrino Rossi, afterwards Minister of France at Rome, then Prime Minister to Pius the Ninth; murdered in 1848 on the steps of the Cancelleria, at Rome.
[12]M. Pellegrino Rossi, afterwards Minister of France at Rome, then Prime Minister to Pius the Ninth; murdered in 1848 on the steps of the Cancelleria, at Rome.
My mother was already meditating writing a book upon Physical Geography, and had begun to collect materials for it, when my father's long and dangerous illness obliged her to lay it aside for a time. My father was ordered to a warmer climate for the winter, and as soon as he was able to travel we proceeded to Rome. We were hardly settled when my mother, with her usual energy, set to work diligently, and began this book, which was not published for some time later, as it required much thought and research. She never allowed anything to interfere with her morning's work; after that was over she was delighted to join in any plan which had been formed for the afternoon's amusement, and enjoyed herself thoroughly, whether in visiting antiquities and galleries, excursions in the neighbourhood, or else going with a friend to paint on the Campagna. My mother was extremely fond of Rome, and often said no place had ever suited her so well. Independently of the picturesque beauty of the place, which, to such a lover of nature, was sufficient in itself, there was a very pleasant societyduring many seasons we spent there. The visitors were far less numerous than they are now, but on that very account there was more sociability and intimacy, and scarcely an evening passed without our meeting. The artists residing at Rome, too, were a most delightful addition to society. Some of them became our very dear friends. My mother remarks:—
We took lodgings at Rome, and as soon as we were settled I resumed my work and wrote every morning till two o'clock, then went to some gallery, walked on the Pincio, dined at six, and in the evening either went out or received visits at home—the pleasantest way of seeing friends, as it does not interfere with one's occupations.
We once joined a party that was arranged to see the statues in the Vatican by torchlight, at which Lord Macaulay astonished us by his correct knowledge and learning as we passed through the gallery of inscriptions. To me this evening was memorable; on this occasion I first met with John Gibson, the sculptor, who afterwards became a dear and valued friend. He must have been a pupil of Canova's or Thorwaldsen's when Somerville and I were first at Rome. Now his fame was as great as that of either of his predecessors.
In spring we went to Naples for a few weeks, and returned to Rome by the San Germano road, now so familiar to travellers, but then hardly ever frequented, as it was extremely unsafe on account of the brigands. We met with no adventures, although we often reached our night quarters long after sunset, for my mother sketched a great deal on the road. We travelled by vetturino and continued this delightful journey to Como. My mother was a perfect travelling companion, always cheerful and contented and interested in all she saw. I leave her to tell of our pleasant residence at Bellaggio in her own words:—
We remained only a short time at Florence, and then went for a month to Bellaggio, on the Lake of Como, at that time the most lonely village imaginable. We had neither letters, newspapers, nor any books, except the Bible, yet we liked it exceedingly. I did nothing but paint in the mornings, and Somerville sat by me. My daughters wandered about, and in the evening we went in a boat on the lake. Sometimes we made longer excursions. One day we went early to Menaggio, at the upper end of the lake. The day had been beautiful, but while at dinner we were startled by a loud peal of thunder. The boatmen desired us to embark without delay, as a storm was rising behind the mountains; it soon blew a gale, and the lake was a sheetof foam; we took shelter for a while at some place on the coast and set out again, thinking the storm had blown over, but it was soon worse than ever. We were in no small danger for two hours. The boatmen, terrified, threw themselves on their knees in prayer to the Madonna. Somerville seized the helm and lowered the sail and ordered them to rise, saying, the Madonna would help them if they helped themselves, and at last they returned to their duty. For a long time we remained perfectly silent, when one of our daughters said, "I have been thinking what a paragraph it will be in the newspapers, 'Drowned, during a sudden squall on the lake of Como, an English family named Somerville, father, mother and two daughters.'" The silence thus broken made us laugh, though our situation was serious enough, for when we landed the shore was crowded with people who had fully expected to see the boat go down. Twice after this we were overtaken by these squalls, which are very dangerous. I shall never forget the magnificence of the lightning and the grandeur of the thunder, which was echoed by the mountains during the storms on the Lake of Como.
We saw the fishermen spear the fish by torchlight, as they did on the Tweed. The fish were plenty and the water so clear that they were seenat a great depth. There are very large red-fleshed trout in the lake, and a small very delicious fish calledagoni, caught in multitudes by fine silk nets, to which bells are attached on floats, that keep up a constant tinkling to let the fishermen know where to find their nets when floated away by the wind.
We now crossed the Alps, by the St. Gothard, to Basle and Baden Baden, where we passed the summer, intending to return to England in autumn, but as soon as the rains began my father had so serious a return of his illness that my mother was much alarmed. When he was well enough to travel, we once more crossed the Alps, and reached Florence, where we remained for the winter. My mother resumed her work there.
Through the kindness of the Grand Duke, I was allowed to have books at home from his private library in the Pitti Palace, a favour only granted to the four Directors. This gave me courage to collect materials for my long neglected Physical Geography, still in embryo. As I took an interest in every branch of science I became acquainted with Professor Amici, whose microscopes were unrivalled at that time, and as he had made many remarkable microscopic discoveries in natural history, he took us to the Museum to see them magnified andmodelled in wax. I had the honour of being elected a member of the Academy of Natural Science at Florence.
There were many agreeable people at Florence that winter and a good deal of gaiety. The Marchese Antinori presented Somerville and me to the Grand Duke, who had expressed a wish to know me. He received us very graciously, and conversed with us for more than an hour on general subjects. He afterwards wrote me a polite letter, accompanied by a work on the drainage of the Maremma, and gave directions about our being invited to a scientific meeting which was to be held at Pisa. We were presented to the Grand Duchess, who was very civil. We spent the summer at Siena, and had a cheerful airy apartment with a fine view of the hills of Santa Fiora, and with very pretty arabesques in fresco on the walls of all the rooms, some so very artistic that I made sketches of them. In these old cities many of the palaces and houses are decorated with that artistic taste which formerly prevailed to such an extent in Italy, and, which has now yielded, here as elsewhere, to commonplace modern furniture.
While we were at Siena, my mother received the following letter from Lord Brougham, who was a frequentcorrespondent of hers, but whose letters are generally too exclusively mathematical for the general reader. My mother had described the curious horse-races which are held at Siena every three years, and other mediæval customs still prevalent.
FROM LORD BROUGHAM TO MRS. SOMERVILLE.Cole Hill, Kent,Sept. 28th, 1840.My dear Mrs. Somerville,I am much obliged to you for your kind letter which let me know of your movements. I had not heard of them since I saw the Fergusons.... We have been here since parliament rose, as I am not yet at all equal to going to Brougham. My health is now quite restored; but I shall not soon—nor in all probability ever—recover the losses I have been afflicted with. I passed the greater part of last winter in Provence, expecting some relief from change of scene and from the fine climate; but I came back fully worse than when I went. In fact, I did wrong in struggling at first, which I did to be able to meet parliament in January last. If I had yielded at once, I would have been better. I hope and trust they sent you a book I published two years ago; I mean the "Dissertations," of which one is on the "Principia," and designed to try how far it may be taught to persons having but a very moderate stock of mathematics; also, if possible, to keep alive thetrue taste(as I reckon it) in mathematics, which modern analysis has a little broken in upon. Assuming you to have got the book, I must mention that there are some intolerable errors of the press left, such as.... Excuse my troubling you with these errata, and impute itto my wish that you should not suppose me to have written the nonsense which these pages seem to prove. By the way, it is a curious proof of university prejudice, that though the Cambridge men admit my analysis of the "Principia" to be unexceptionable, and to be well calculated for teaching the work, yet,not being by a Cambridge man, it cannot be used! They are far more liberal at Paris, where they only are waiting for my analysis of the second book; but I put off finishing it, as I do still more my account of the "Mécanique Céleste." The latter I have almost abandoned in despair after nearly finishing it; I find so much that cannot be explained elementarily, or anything near it. So that my account to be complete would be nearly as hard reading as yours, and not 1000th part as good.... I greatly envy you Siena; I never was there above a day, and always desired to stay longer. The language is, as you say, a real charm; but I was not aware of the preservation in which you describe the older manners to be. I fear I shall not be able to visit Provence, as I should have wished this winter ... but my plans are not quite fixed. The judicial business in Parliament and the Privy Council will also make my going abroad after January difficult. I don't write you any news, nor is there any but what you see in the papers. The Tory restoration approaches very steadily, tho' not very rapidly; and I only hope that the Whigs, having contrived to destroy the Liberal party in the country—I fear past all hope of recovery—may not have a war abroad also to mourn for....Believe me,Yours ever,H. Brougham.
FROM LORD BROUGHAM TO MRS. SOMERVILLE.
Cole Hill, Kent,Sept. 28th, 1840.
I am much obliged to you for your kind letter which let me know of your movements. I had not heard of them since I saw the Fergusons.... We have been here since parliament rose, as I am not yet at all equal to going to Brougham. My health is now quite restored; but I shall not soon—nor in all probability ever—recover the losses I have been afflicted with. I passed the greater part of last winter in Provence, expecting some relief from change of scene and from the fine climate; but I came back fully worse than when I went. In fact, I did wrong in struggling at first, which I did to be able to meet parliament in January last. If I had yielded at once, I would have been better. I hope and trust they sent you a book I published two years ago; I mean the "Dissertations," of which one is on the "Principia," and designed to try how far it may be taught to persons having but a very moderate stock of mathematics; also, if possible, to keep alive thetrue taste(as I reckon it) in mathematics, which modern analysis has a little broken in upon. Assuming you to have got the book, I must mention that there are some intolerable errors of the press left, such as.... Excuse my troubling you with these errata, and impute itto my wish that you should not suppose me to have written the nonsense which these pages seem to prove. By the way, it is a curious proof of university prejudice, that though the Cambridge men admit my analysis of the "Principia" to be unexceptionable, and to be well calculated for teaching the work, yet,not being by a Cambridge man, it cannot be used! They are far more liberal at Paris, where they only are waiting for my analysis of the second book; but I put off finishing it, as I do still more my account of the "Mécanique Céleste." The latter I have almost abandoned in despair after nearly finishing it; I find so much that cannot be explained elementarily, or anything near it. So that my account to be complete would be nearly as hard reading as yours, and not 1000th part as good.... I greatly envy you Siena; I never was there above a day, and always desired to stay longer. The language is, as you say, a real charm; but I was not aware of the preservation in which you describe the older manners to be. I fear I shall not be able to visit Provence, as I should have wished this winter ... but my plans are not quite fixed. The judicial business in Parliament and the Privy Council will also make my going abroad after January difficult. I don't write you any news, nor is there any but what you see in the papers. The Tory restoration approaches very steadily, tho' not very rapidly; and I only hope that the Whigs, having contrived to destroy the Liberal party in the country—I fear past all hope of recovery—may not have a war abroad also to mourn for....
Believe me,Yours ever,H. Brougham.
On going to Rome I required a good many books for continuing my work on "Physical Geography," and had got "Transactions of the Geographical Society" and other works sent from London, The Hon. Mountstuart Elphinstone who was then at Rome, was an old acquaintance of ours. He was one of the most amiable men I ever met with, and quite won my heart one day at table when they were talking of the number of singing-birds that were eaten in Italy—nightingales, goldfinches, and robins—he called out, "What! robins! our household birds! I would as soon eat a child!" He was so kind as to write to the Directors of the East India Company requesting that I might have the use of the library and papers that were in the India House. This was readily granted me; and I had a letter in consequence from Mr. Wilson, the Orientalist, giving me a list of the works they had on the geography of Eastern Asia and the most recent travels in the Himalaya, Thibet, and China, with much useful information from himself. I was indebted to Sir Henry Pottinger, then at Rome, for information relating to Scinde, for he had been for some years British Envoy at Beloochistan. Thus provided, I went on with my work. We lived several winters in an apartment on the second floor of Palazzo Lepri, Via dei Condotti, where we passedmany happy days. When we first lived in Via Condotti, the waste-pipes to carry off the rain-water from the roofs projected far into the street, and when there was a violent thunderstorm, one might have thought a waterspout had broken over Rome, the water poured in such cascades from the houses on each side of the street. On one occasion the rain continued in torrents for thirty-six hours, and the Tiber came down in heavy flood, inundating the Ghetto and all the low parts of the city; the water was six feet deep in the Pantheon. The people were driven out of their houses in the middle of the night and took refuge in the churches, and boats plied in the streets supplying the inhabitants with food, which they hauled up in baskets let down from the windows. The Campagna for miles was under water; it covered the Ponte Molle so that the courier could not pass; and seen from the Pincio it looked like an extensive lake. Much anxiety was felt for the people who lived in the farm houses now surrounded with water. Boats were sent to rescue them, and few lives were lost; but many animals perished. The flood did not subside till after three days, when it left everything covered with yellow mud; the loss of property was very great, and there was much misery for a long time.
Our house was in a very central position, and when not engaged I gladly received anyone who liked to come to us in the evening, and we had a most agreeable society, foreign and English, for we were not looked upon as strangers, and the English society was much better during the years we spent in Rome than it was afterwards.
I had an annual visit of an hour from the astronomer Padre Vico, and Padre Pianciani, Professor of Chemistry in the Collegio Romano. I was invited to see the Observatory; but as I had seen those of Greenwich and Paris, I did not think it worth while accepting the invitation, especially as it required an order from the Pope. I could easily have obtained leave, for we were presented to Gregory XVI. by the President of the Scotch Catholic College. The Pope received me with marked distinction; notwithstanding I was disgusted to see the President prostrate on the floor, kissing the Pope's foot as if he had been divine. I think it was about this time that I was elected an honorary associate of the Accademia Tiberiana.
I had very great delight in the Campagna of Rome; the fine range of Apennines bounding the plain, over which the fleeting shadows of the passing clouds fell, ever changing and always beautiful,whether viewed in the early morning, or in the glory of the setting sun, I was never tired of admiring; and whenever I drove out, preferred a country drive to the more fashionable Villa Borghese. One day Somerville and I and our daughters went to drive towards the Tavolata, on the road to Albano. We got out of the carriage, and went into a field, tempted by the wild flowers. On one side of this field ran the aqueduct, on the other a deep and wide ditch full of water. I had gone towards the aqueduct, leaving the others in the field. All at once we heard a loud shouting, when an enormous drove of the beautiful Campagna grey cattle with their wide-spreading horns came rushing wildly between us with their heads down and their tails erect, driven by men with long spears mounted on little spirited horses at full gallop. It was so sudden and so rapid, that only after it was over did we perceive the danger we had run. As there was no possible escape, there was nothing for it but standing still, which Somerville and my girls had presence of mind to do, and the drove dividing, rushed like a whirlwind to the right and left of them. The danger was not so much of being gored as of being run over by the excited and terrified animals, and round the walls of Rome places of refuge are provided for those who may be passing when thecattle are driven. Near where this occurred there is a house with the inscription "Casa Dei Spiriti"; but I do not think the Italians believe in either ghosts or witches; their chief superstition seems to be the "Jettatura" or evil eye, which they have inherited from the early Romans, and, I believe, Etruscans. They consider it a bad omen to meet a monk or priest on first going out in the morning. My daughters were engaged to ride with a large party, and the meet was at our house. A Roman, who happened to go out first, saw a friar, and rushed in again laughing, and waited till he was out of sight. Soon after they set off, this gentleman was thrown from his horse and ducked in a pool; so the "Jettatura" was fulfilled. But my daughters thought his bad seat on horseback enough to account for his fall without the Evil Eye.
In spring we went to Albano, and lived in a villa, high up on the hill in a beautiful situation not far from the lake. The view was most extensive, commanding the whole of the Campagna as far as Terracina, &c. In this wide expanse we could see the thunderclouds forming and rising gradually over the sky before the storm, and I used to watch the vapour condensing into a cloud as it rose into the cool air. I never witnessed anything so violent as the storms we had about the equinox, when the weather broke up. Our house being high above the plain became enveloped in vapour till, at 3 p.m. we could scarcely see the olives which grew below our windows, and crash followed crash with no interval between the lightning and the thunder, so that we felt sure many places must have been struck; and we were not mistaken—trees, houses, and evencattle had been struck close to us. Somerville went to Florence to attend a scientific meeting, and wrote to us that the lightning there had stripped the gold leaf off the conductors on the powder magazine; a proof of their utility.
The sunsets were glorious, and I, fascinated by the gorgeous colouring, attempted to paint what Turner alone could have done justice to. I made studies, too, which were signal failures, of the noble ilex trees bordering the lake of Albano. Thus I wasted a great deal of time, I can hardly say in vain, from the pleasure I had in the lovely scenery. Somerville sat often by me with his book, while I painted from nature, or amused himself examining the geological structure of the country. Our life was a solitary one, except for the occasional visit from some friends who were at Frascati; but we never found it dull; besides, we made many expeditions on mules or donkeys to places in the neighbourhood. I was very much delighted with the flora on the Campagna and the Alban hills, which in spring and early summer are a perfect garden of flowers. Many plants we cultivate in England here grow wild in profusion, such as cyclamens, gum-cistus, both white and purple, many rare and beautiful orchideæ, the large flowering Spanish broom, perfuming the air all around, thetall, white-blossomed Mediterranean heath, and the myrtle. These and many others my girls used to bring in from their early morning walks. The flowers only lasted till the end of June, when the heat began, and the whole country became brown and parched; but scarcely had the autumnal rains commenced, when, like magic, the whole country broke out once more into verdure, and myriads of cyclamens covered the ground. Nightingales abounded in the woods, singing both by night and by day; and one bright moonlight night my daughters, who slept with their window open, were startled from their sleep by the hooting of one of those beautiful birds, the great-eared owl—"le grand duc" of Buffon—which had settled on the railing of their balcony. We constantly came across snakes, generally harmless ones; but there were a good many vipers, and once, when Somerville and my daughters, with Mr. Cromek, the artist, had gone from Genzano to Nettuno for a couple of days, a small asp which was crawling among the bent-grass on the seashore, darted at one of the girls, who had irritated it by touching it with her parasol. By the natives they are much dreaded, both on this coast and in the pine forest of Ravenna, where the cattle are said to be occasionally poisoned by their bite.
We had been acquainted with the Rev. Dr., afterwards Cardinal Wiseman at Rome. He was head of a college of young men educating for the Catholic Church, who had their "villeggiatura" at Monte Porzio. We spent a day with him there, and visited Tusculum; another day we went to Lariccia, where there is a palace and park belonging to the Chigi family in a most picturesque but dilapidated state. We went also to Ganzano, Rocca del Papa, and occasionally to visit frends at Frascati. There was a stone threshing-floor behind our house. During the vintage we had it nicely swept and lighted with torches, and the grape gatherers came and danced till long after midnight, to the great amusement of my daughters, who joined in the dance, which was the Saltarello, a variety of the Tarantella. They danced to the beating of tambourines. Italy is the country of music, especially of melody, and the popular airs, especially the Neapolitan, are extremely beautiful and melodious; yet it is a fact, that the singing of the peasantry, particularly in the Roman and Neapolitan provinces, is most disagreeable and discordant. It is not melody at all, but a kind of wild chant, meandering through minor tones, without rhythm of any sort or apparent rule, and my daughters say it is very difficult to note down; yet there is some kind of method andsimilarity in it as one hears it shouted out at the loudest pitch of the voice, the last note dwelt upon and drawn out to an immeasurable length. The words are frequently improvised by the singers, who answer one another from a distance, as they work in the fields. I have been told this style of chanting—singing it can hardly be called—has been handed down from the most ancient times, and it is said, in the southern provinces, to have descended from the early Greek colonists. The ancient Greeks are supposed to have chanted their poetry to music, as do the Italian improvisatori at the present day. In Tuscany, the words of the songs are often extremely poetical and graceful. Frequently, these verses, called "stornelli" and "rispetti," are composed by the peasants themselves, women as well as men; the language is the purest and most classical Italian, such as is spoken at the present day in the provinces of Siena, Pistoja, &c., very much less corrupted by foreign idioms or adaptations than what is spoken, even by cultivated persons, in Florence itself. The picturesque costumes so universal when I first came to Italy, in 1817, had fallen very much into disuse when, at a much later period, we resided in Rome, and now they are rarely seen.
We hired a handsome peasant girl from Albano as housemaid, who was much admired by our English friends in her scarlet cloth bodice, trimmed with gold lace, and the silver spadone, or bodkin, fastening her plaits of dark hair; but she very soon exchanged her picturesque costume for a bonnet, etc., in which she looked clumsy and commonplace.
The following are extracts from letters written from Albano by my mother:—
FROM MRS. SOMERVILLE TO HER SON W. GREIG, ESQ.Albano,16th June, 1841.I was thankful to hear, my dearest Woronzow, from your last letter that Agnes is recovering so well.... We are very much pleased with our residence at Albano; the house, with its high sounding name of "Villa," is more like a farmhouse, with brick floors and no carpets, and a few chairs and tables, but the situation is divine. We are near the top of the hill, about half-a-mile above Albano, and have the most magnificent view in every direction, and such a variety of delightful walks, that we take a new one every evening. For painting it is perfect; every step is a picture. At present we have no one near, and lead the life of hermits; but our friends have loaded us with books, and with drawing, painting, music, and writing, we never have a moment idle. Almost every one has left Rome; but the English have all gone elsewhere, as they are not so easily pleased with a house as we are. Theonly gay thing we have done was a donkey ride yesterday to the top of Monte Cavo, and back by the lake of Nemi....
FROM MRS. SOMERVILLE TO HER SON W. GREIG, ESQ.
Albano,16th June, 1841.
I was thankful to hear, my dearest Woronzow, from your last letter that Agnes is recovering so well.... We are very much pleased with our residence at Albano; the house, with its high sounding name of "Villa," is more like a farmhouse, with brick floors and no carpets, and a few chairs and tables, but the situation is divine. We are near the top of the hill, about half-a-mile above Albano, and have the most magnificent view in every direction, and such a variety of delightful walks, that we take a new one every evening. For painting it is perfect; every step is a picture. At present we have no one near, and lead the life of hermits; but our friends have loaded us with books, and with drawing, painting, music, and writing, we never have a moment idle. Almost every one has left Rome; but the English have all gone elsewhere, as they are not so easily pleased with a house as we are. Theonly gay thing we have done was a donkey ride yesterday to the top of Monte Cavo, and back by the lake of Nemi....
FROM MRS. SOMERVILLE TO WORONZOW GREIG, ESQ.Albano,20th August, 1841.I dare say you think it very long since you have heard from me, my dearest Woronzow, but the truth is, I have been writing so hard, that after I had finished my day's work, I was fit for nothing but idleness. The reason of my hurry is, that the scientific meeting takes place at Florence on the 15th of September, and as I think it probable that some of our English philosophers will come to it, I hope to have a safe opportunity of sending home some MS. which it has cost me hard work to get ready, as I have undertaken a book more fit for the combination of a Society than for a single hand to accomplish. Lord Brougham was most kind when at Rome, and took so great an interest in it, that he has, undertaken to read it over, and give me his opinion and criticism, which will be very valuable, as I know no one who is a better judge of these matters. He will send it to Mr. Murray, and you had better consult with him about it, whether he thinks it will succeed or not. Both William and Martha like what I have done; but I am very nervous about it, and wish you would read it if you have time.... We have been extremely quiet all the summer; we have no neighbours, so that we amuse ourselves with our occupations. I get up between six and seven, breakfast at eight, and write till three, when we dine; after dinner, I write again till near six,when we go out and take a long walk; come home to tea at nine, and go to bed at eleven: the same thing day after day, so you cannot expect a very amusing letter.... I have another commission I wish you would do for me; it is to inquire what discoveries Captain Ross has made at the South Pole. I saw a very interesting account in "Galignani" of what they have done, but cannot trust to a newspaper account so as to quote it.
FROM MRS. SOMERVILLE TO WORONZOW GREIG, ESQ.
Albano,20th August, 1841.
I dare say you think it very long since you have heard from me, my dearest Woronzow, but the truth is, I have been writing so hard, that after I had finished my day's work, I was fit for nothing but idleness. The reason of my hurry is, that the scientific meeting takes place at Florence on the 15th of September, and as I think it probable that some of our English philosophers will come to it, I hope to have a safe opportunity of sending home some MS. which it has cost me hard work to get ready, as I have undertaken a book more fit for the combination of a Society than for a single hand to accomplish. Lord Brougham was most kind when at Rome, and took so great an interest in it, that he has, undertaken to read it over, and give me his opinion and criticism, which will be very valuable, as I know no one who is a better judge of these matters. He will send it to Mr. Murray, and you had better consult with him about it, whether he thinks it will succeed or not. Both William and Martha like what I have done; but I am very nervous about it, and wish you would read it if you have time.... We have been extremely quiet all the summer; we have no neighbours, so that we amuse ourselves with our occupations. I get up between six and seven, breakfast at eight, and write till three, when we dine; after dinner, I write again till near six,when we go out and take a long walk; come home to tea at nine, and go to bed at eleven: the same thing day after day, so you cannot expect a very amusing letter.... I have another commission I wish you would do for me; it is to inquire what discoveries Captain Ross has made at the South Pole. I saw a very interesting account in "Galignani" of what they have done, but cannot trust to a newspaper account so as to quote it.
A new edition of my "Physical Sciences" was required, so the "Physical Geography" was laid aside for the present. On returning to Rome, we resumed our usual life, and continued to receive our friends in the evening without ceremony. There was generally a merry party round the tea table in a corner of the room. I cannot omit mentioning one of the most charming and intellectual of our friends, Don Michelangelo Gaetani, Duke of Sermoneta, whose brilliant and witty conversation is unrivalled, and for whom I have had a very sincere friendship for many years. I found him lately as charming as ever, notwithstanding the cruel loss of his sight. The last time I ever dined out was at his house at Rome, when I was on my way to Naples in 1867.
John Gibson, the sculptor, the most guileless and amiable of men, was now a dear friend. His stylewas the purest Grecian, and had some of his works been found among the ruins, multitudes would have come to Rome to admire them. He was now in the height of his fame; yet he was so kind and encouraging to young people that he allowed my girls to go and draw in his studio, and one of my daughters, with a friend, modelled there for some time. His drawings for bas-reliefs were most beautiful. He drew very slowly, but a line once drawn was never changed. He ignored India-rubber or bread-crumbs, so perfect was his knowledge of anatomy, and so decided the character and expression he meant to give.
We had charades one evening in a small theatre in our house, which went off very well There was much beauty at Rome at that time; no one who was there can have forgotten the beautiful and brilliant Sheridans. I recollect Lady Dufferin at the Easter ceremonies at St. Peter's, in her widow's cap, with a large black crape veil thrown over it, creating quite a sensation. With her exquisite features, oval face, and somewhat fantastical head-dress, anything more lovely could not be conceived; and the Roman people crowded round her in undisguised admiration of "la bella monaca Inglese." Her charm of manner and her brilliant conversation will never be forgotten by those who knew her. To my mind, Mrs. Nortonwas the most beautiful of the three sisters. Hers is a grand countenance, such as artists love to study. Gibson, whom I asked, after his return from England, which he had revisited after twenty-seven years' absence, what he thought of Englishwomen, replied, he had seen many handsome women, but no such sculptural beauty as Mrs. Norton's. I might add the Marchioness of Waterford, whose bust at Macdonald's I took at first for an ideal head, till I recognised the likeness.
Lady Davy used to live a great deal at Rome, and took an active part in society. She talked a great deal, and talked well when she spoke English, but like many of us had more pretension with regard to the things she could not do well than to those she really could. She was a Latin scholar, and as far as reading and knowing the literature of modern languages went she was very accomplished, but unfortunately, she fancied she spoke them perfectly, and was never happier than when she had people of different nations dining with her, each of whom she addressed in his own language. Many amusing mistakes of hers in speaking Italian were current in both Roman and English circles.
A few months were very pleasantly spent one summer at Perugia, where there is so much that isinteresting to be seen. The neighbouring country is very beautiful, and the city being on the top of a hill is very cool during the hot weather. We had an apartment in the Casa Oddi-Baglioni—a name well known in Italian history—and I recollect spending some very pleasant days with the Conte Oddi-Baglioni, at a villa called Colle del Cardinale, some ten or twelve miles from the town. The house was large and handsomely decorated, with a profusion of the finest Chinese vases. On our toilet tables were placed perfumes, scented soap, and very elaborately embroidered nightdresses were laid out for use. I remember especially admiring the basins, jugs, &c., which were all of the finest japan enamel. There was a subterranean apartment where we dined, which was delightfully cool and pleasant, and at a large and profusely served dinner-table, while we and the guests with the owner of the house dined at the upper end, at the lower end and below the salt there were the superintendent of the Count's farms, a house decorator and others of that rank. It is not the only instance we met with of this very ancient custom. The first time Somerville and I came to Italy, years before this, while dining at a very noble house, the wetnurse took her place, as a matter of course, at the foot of the dinner-table.
On the morning after our arrival and at a veryearly hour there was a very fine eclipse of the sun, though not total at Perugia or the neighbourhood; the chill and unnatural gloom were very striking.
Perugia is one of the places in which the ancient athletic game ofpalloneis played with spirit. It is so graceful when well played that I wonder our active young men have not adopted it. A large leather ball filled with condensed air is struck and returned again by the opponent with the whole force of their right arms, covered to the elbow with a spiked wooden case. The promptness and activity required to keep up the ball is very great, and the impetus with which it strikes is such, that the boxes for spectators in the amphitheatres dedicated to this game are protected by strong netting. It is a very complicated game, and, I am told, somewhat resembles tennis.
On leaving Perugia we went for a few days to Asissi, spent a day at Chiusi, and then returned to Rome, which we found in a great state of excitement on account of three steamers which had just arrived from England to ply on the Tiber. The Pope and Cardinals made a solemn procession to bless them. No doubt they would have thought our method of dashing a bottle of wine on a vessel on naming her highly profane.
We constantly made expeditions to the country, to Tivoli, Veii, Ostia, &c., and my daughters rode on the Campagna. One day they rode to Albano, and on returning after dark they told me they had seen a most curious cloud which never altered its position; it was a very long narrow stripe reaching from the horizon till nearly over head—it was the tail of the magnificent comet of 1843.
We met with a great temptation in an invitation from Lady Stratford Canning, to go and visit them at Buyukdéré, near Constantinople, butres arctaprevented us from accepting what would have been so desirable in every respect. At this time I sat to our good friend Mr. Macdonald for my bust, which was much liked.[13]
One early summer we went to Loreto and Ancona, where we embarked for Trieste; the weather seemed fine when we set off, but a storm came on, with thunder and lightning, very high sea and several waterspouts. The vessel rolled and pitched, and we were carried far out of our course to the Dalmatian coast. I was obliged to remain a couple of days at Trieste to rest, and was very glad when we arrivedat Venice. The summer passed most delightfully at Venice, and we had ample time to see everything without hurry. I wrote very little this summer, for the scenery was so beautiful that I painted all day; my daughters drew in the Belle Arti, and Somerville had plenty of books to amuse him, besides sight-seeing, which occupied much of our time. In the Armenian convent we met with Joseph Warten, an excellent mathematician and astronomer; he was pastor at Neusatz, near Peterwardein in Hungary, and he was making a tour through Europe. He asked me to give him a copy of the "Mechanism of the Heavens," and afterwards wrote in Latin to Somerville and sent me some errors of the press he had met with in my book, but they were of no use, as I never published a second edition. We returned to Rome by Ravenna, where we stayed a couple of days, then travelled slowly along the Adriatic Coast From thence we went by Gubbio and Perugia to Orvieto, one of the most interesting towns in Italy, and one seldom visited at that time; now the railway will bring it into the regular track of travellers.
A few extracts from letters, written and received during this summer by my mother, may not be without interest. Also parts of two from my mother's old andvalued friend Miss Joanna Baillie. The second letter was written several years later, and is nearly the last she ever wrote to my mother.
FROM MRS. SOMERVILLE TO WORONZOW GREIG, ESQ.Venice,21st July, 1843.I most sincerely rejoice to hear that Agnes and you have gone to the Rhine, as I am confident a little change of air and scene will be of the greatest service to you both.... We are quite enchanted with Venice; no one can form an idea of its infinite loveliness who has not seen it in summer and in moonlight. I often doubt my senses, and almost fear it may be a dream. We are lodged to perfection, the weather has been charming, no oppressive heat, though the thermometer ranges from 75° to 80°, accompanied by a good deal of scirocco; there are neither flies nor fleas, and as yet the mosquitoes have not molested us. We owe much of our comfort to the house we are in, for there are scarcely any furnished lodgings, and the hotels are bad and dear, besides situation is everything at this season, when the smaller canals become offensive at low water, for, though there is little tide in the Mediterranean, there are four feet at new and full moon here, which is a great blessing. We have now seen everything, and have become acquainted with everybody, and met with kindness and attention beyond all description. Many of the great ducal families still exist, and live handsomely in their splendid palaces; indeed, the decay of Venice, so much talked of, is quite a mistake; certainly it is very different from what it was in its palmy days, but there is a good deal of activity and trade. The abolition of the lawof primogeniture has injured the noble families more than anything else. We rise early, and are busy indoors all morning, except the girls, who go to the Academy of theBelle Arti, and paint from ten till three. We dine at four, and embark in our gondola at six or seven, and row about on the glassy sea till nine, when we go to the Piazza of San Marco, listen to a very fine military band, and sit gossiping till eleven or twelve, and then row home by the Grand Canal, or make a visit in one of the various houses that are open to us. One of the most remarkable of these is that of the Countess Mocenigo's, who has in one of her drawing-rooms the portraits of six doges of the Mocenigo name. I was presented by her to the Duc de Bordeaux, the other evening, a fat good-natured looking person. I was presented also to the Archduke—I forget what—son of the Archduke Charles, and admiral of the fleet here; a nice youth, but not clever. We meet him everywhere, and Somerville dined with him a few days ago. The only strangers of note are the Prince of Tour and Taxis, and Marshal Marmont. The Venetian ladies are very ladylike and agreeable, and speak beautifully. We have received uncommon kindness from Mr. Rawdon Brown; he has made us acquainted with everybody, as he is quite at home here, having been settled in Venice for several years, and has got a most beautiful house fitted up, inrococostyle, with great taste; he is an adept at Venetian history. He supplies us with books, which are a great comfort.... The other evening we were surprised by a perfect fleet of gondolas stopping under our windows, from one of which we had the most beautiful serenade; the moonlight was like day, and the effect was admirable. There was afestathe other night in a church on the water's edge; the shore was illuminatedand hundreds of gondolas were darting along like swallows, the gondoliers rowing as if they had been mad, till the water was as much agitated as if there had been a gale of wind: nothing could be more animated. You will perceive from what I have said that the evening, till a late hour, is the time for amusement, in consequence of which I follow the Italian custom of sleeping after dinner, and am much the better for it. This place agrees particularly well with all of us, and is well suited for old people, who require air without fatigue....Most affectionately,Mary Somerville.
FROM MRS. SOMERVILLE TO WORONZOW GREIG, ESQ.
Venice,21st July, 1843.
I most sincerely rejoice to hear that Agnes and you have gone to the Rhine, as I am confident a little change of air and scene will be of the greatest service to you both.... We are quite enchanted with Venice; no one can form an idea of its infinite loveliness who has not seen it in summer and in moonlight. I often doubt my senses, and almost fear it may be a dream. We are lodged to perfection, the weather has been charming, no oppressive heat, though the thermometer ranges from 75° to 80°, accompanied by a good deal of scirocco; there are neither flies nor fleas, and as yet the mosquitoes have not molested us. We owe much of our comfort to the house we are in, for there are scarcely any furnished lodgings, and the hotels are bad and dear, besides situation is everything at this season, when the smaller canals become offensive at low water, for, though there is little tide in the Mediterranean, there are four feet at new and full moon here, which is a great blessing. We have now seen everything, and have become acquainted with everybody, and met with kindness and attention beyond all description. Many of the great ducal families still exist, and live handsomely in their splendid palaces; indeed, the decay of Venice, so much talked of, is quite a mistake; certainly it is very different from what it was in its palmy days, but there is a good deal of activity and trade. The abolition of the lawof primogeniture has injured the noble families more than anything else. We rise early, and are busy indoors all morning, except the girls, who go to the Academy of theBelle Arti, and paint from ten till three. We dine at four, and embark in our gondola at six or seven, and row about on the glassy sea till nine, when we go to the Piazza of San Marco, listen to a very fine military band, and sit gossiping till eleven or twelve, and then row home by the Grand Canal, or make a visit in one of the various houses that are open to us. One of the most remarkable of these is that of the Countess Mocenigo's, who has in one of her drawing-rooms the portraits of six doges of the Mocenigo name. I was presented by her to the Duc de Bordeaux, the other evening, a fat good-natured looking person. I was presented also to the Archduke—I forget what—son of the Archduke Charles, and admiral of the fleet here; a nice youth, but not clever. We meet him everywhere, and Somerville dined with him a few days ago. The only strangers of note are the Prince of Tour and Taxis, and Marshal Marmont. The Venetian ladies are very ladylike and agreeable, and speak beautifully. We have received uncommon kindness from Mr. Rawdon Brown; he has made us acquainted with everybody, as he is quite at home here, having been settled in Venice for several years, and has got a most beautiful house fitted up, inrococostyle, with great taste; he is an adept at Venetian history. He supplies us with books, which are a great comfort.... The other evening we were surprised by a perfect fleet of gondolas stopping under our windows, from one of which we had the most beautiful serenade; the moonlight was like day, and the effect was admirable. There was afestathe other night in a church on the water's edge; the shore was illuminatedand hundreds of gondolas were darting along like swallows, the gondoliers rowing as if they had been mad, till the water was as much agitated as if there had been a gale of wind: nothing could be more animated. You will perceive from what I have said that the evening, till a late hour, is the time for amusement, in consequence of which I follow the Italian custom of sleeping after dinner, and am much the better for it. This place agrees particularly well with all of us, and is well suited for old people, who require air without fatigue....
Most affectionately,Mary Somerville.
FROM MRS. SOMERVILLE TO WORONZOW GREIG, ESQ.Venice,27th August, 1843.My dear Woronzow,Your excellent letter, giving an account of your agreeable expedition up the Rhine, did not arrive till nearly a month after it was written.... I regret exceedingly you could not stay longer, and still more that you could not come on and pay us a visit, and enjoy the charm of summer in Venice, so totally unlike every other place in every respect. I wished for you last night particularly. As we were leaving the Piazza San Marco, about eleven, a boat came up, burning blue lights, with a piano, violins, flutes, and about twenty men on board, who sang choruses in the most delightful manner, and sometimes solos. They were followed by an immense number of gondolas, and we joined thecortège, and all went under the Bridge of Sighs, where the effect was beautiful beyond description. We then all turned and entered the Grand Canal, which was entirely filled withgondolas from one side to the other, jammed together, so that we moveden masse, and stopped every now and then to burn blue or red Bengal lights before the principal palaces, singing going on all the while. We saw numbers of our Venetian friends in their gondolas, enjoying the scene as much as we did, to whom it was almost new. I never saw people who enjoyed life more, and they have much the advantage of us in their delicious climate and aquatic amusements, so much more picturesque than what can be done on land. However, we have had no less than three dances lately. The Grand Duke of Modena, with his son and daughter-in-law, were here, and to them afêtewas given by the Countess de Thurn. The palace was brilliant with lights; it is on the grand canal, and immediately under the balcony was a boat from which fireworks were let off, and then a couple of boats succeeded them, in which choruses were sung. The view from the balcony is one of the finest in Venice, and the night was charming, and there I was while the dancing went on.... I never saw Somerville so well; this place suits us to the life, constant air and no fatigue; I never once have had a headache.... Now, my dear W., tell me your tale; my tale is done.Yours affectionately,Mary Somerville.
FROM MRS. SOMERVILLE TO WORONZOW GREIG, ESQ.
Venice,27th August, 1843.
Your excellent letter, giving an account of your agreeable expedition up the Rhine, did not arrive till nearly a month after it was written.... I regret exceedingly you could not stay longer, and still more that you could not come on and pay us a visit, and enjoy the charm of summer in Venice, so totally unlike every other place in every respect. I wished for you last night particularly. As we were leaving the Piazza San Marco, about eleven, a boat came up, burning blue lights, with a piano, violins, flutes, and about twenty men on board, who sang choruses in the most delightful manner, and sometimes solos. They were followed by an immense number of gondolas, and we joined thecortège, and all went under the Bridge of Sighs, where the effect was beautiful beyond description. We then all turned and entered the Grand Canal, which was entirely filled withgondolas from one side to the other, jammed together, so that we moveden masse, and stopped every now and then to burn blue or red Bengal lights before the principal palaces, singing going on all the while. We saw numbers of our Venetian friends in their gondolas, enjoying the scene as much as we did, to whom it was almost new. I never saw people who enjoyed life more, and they have much the advantage of us in their delicious climate and aquatic amusements, so much more picturesque than what can be done on land. However, we have had no less than three dances lately. The Grand Duke of Modena, with his son and daughter-in-law, were here, and to them afêtewas given by the Countess de Thurn. The palace was brilliant with lights; it is on the grand canal, and immediately under the balcony was a boat from which fireworks were let off, and then a couple of boats succeeded them, in which choruses were sung. The view from the balcony is one of the finest in Venice, and the night was charming, and there I was while the dancing went on.... I never saw Somerville so well; this place suits us to the life, constant air and no fatigue; I never once have had a headache.... Now, my dear W., tell me your tale; my tale is done.
Yours affectionately,Mary Somerville.