Travels in Europe.

Chapter VIII.

1802-1805.

**Effects of my Imprisonment upon my Health and Fortune - Difficulties in Repairing the Latter - A Pugnacious Middleman - Begin my Travels - My Sisters and their Husbands - Jerusalem Whalley - Paris - Presentation to the First consul

• His Court - Ceremonial on his Acceptance of the Consulate for Life - Bonaparte’s Personal Appearance - Curious Instance of his Ignorance - Feelings of the Republicans towards him - The Corps d’Elits - Kosciusko - Helen Maria Williams - Parisian Society - The Officials and the Financier - Madame Rocamier - Journey to Italy - Nice - Foreign and Irish Climate - Florene - Friendly Warning from the Duc de Feltre to evade Verdun - Rome - The Palazzo Accaioli - House-rent and Accommodation in Italy in 1808 - Impoverished Condition of the Roman State - Vertu-Market - The Earl-Bishop of Derry - His Eccentricities and Death - Removal of Antiquities - History of the Pillars of the Golden House - Roman Civilisation - Mixture of Bigotry and Feebleness with Urbanity - Trasteverini - The Jew - Kindness to strangers - Weakness of the Fabric of Society - The Papal Fleet and its Admiral - Apathy of the Upper Clases - Their Epicureanism - Their Submission to the Popular Superstitions - Prince Massimo and his Shrine - The King of Sardinia and his Cross - Ignorance of the Nobles - The Prince Borghese - Contrasted Vigour of the Artists - Canova - His Statues of the King of Naples and of Napoleon - Pius VII. - His Departure to France - The Cardinal York - His Hospitalities at Frescati - Estimation of English Manufactures in Italy - Madame D’Albany - Alfieri - Foreign Resident - Duchess of Cumberland - The Princes of Mecklenburg - Count Orloff - Prince Potemkin - Count Pablen’s Constitution of Russia - Father Concanen - The Abbé Taylor - Letter from him - Travelling Companions from Rome - Madame de Stael - United Irishmen in Vienna - Prince Xavier of Saxony - Princely Hospitality - Return through Denmark to England.**

The lengthened confinement I had endured, and the extreme severity with which all the restrictions of my prison were enforced, had considerably weakened my health, and entailed upon me a painful local complaint, from which, although I subsequently recovered completely, I was suffering much at the time of my liberation. These circumstances, combined with the delicacy of health of one of my sisters, determined me to seek relief from bodily and mental sufferings by a lengthened tour. Before I was enabled to put this determination in practice there was, however, much to be done. My affairs, as might have been expected, were much deranged. Some of my tenants and neighbours had taken advantage of the death of my father, and of what they supposed to be my own desperate situation, to turn my property, without scruple, to their own uses. They had sub-let their farms contrary to the stipulations of their leases, cut down woods, opened quarries, and converted rich meadows into brick-fields. These breaches took some time to repair, but, at length, I got them all settled. The worst of my tenants, who were of the class of magistrates and squireens, I bought out. “You might go to law with these men,” said my legal adviser, “for breaking covenant, and sub-letting their holdings; but if you do, you will in all probability have to plead your cause against middlemen, before middlemen juries and a middleman judge. The first loss is always the least, so pay those who have thus broken their bargain with you, to leave your lands quietly, or let them hold on till their leases shall expire, without giving them an opportunity of adding to your losses by litigation.”

I took this advice, which I still believe to have been sound; and, having got rid of the trespassers, re-let my lands, in general, to occupiers who held the plough with their own hands, and for so doing I scarcely ever had occasion to lament. [Among the middle-tenants whose holdings I resumed and re-let to the occupiers, was a widow lady, who, though the near relative of a noble lord, made, what is called in Ireland, a very “poor mouth” when the expiration of her lease deprived her of the profit-rent which her husband had wrung from the under-tenants, by breaking his covenant against sub-letting. I gave these occupying under-tenants leases of their own holdings; and, in consideration of the circumstances of the distressed lady-middleman, I agreed to make her an allowance of £50 a year, until her noble relative should come of age, and be able to assist her. When, however, I stopped my bounty, on that contingency taking place, her son, an Indian officer, who had just returned home, sent me a hostile message, for having so wounded his feelings.] Having finally arranged these affairs, and settled upon a plan for enlarging my house of Lyons, I left Ireland for the continent in the year 1802, immediately after the peace of Amiens had been concluded.

I was accompanied by my two sisters, [I had three sisters. The eldest had then recently become the widow of Thomas Whalley, known in Ireland as “Jerusalem Whalley,” from the circumstance of his having won a bet by performing a journey to Jerusalem on foot, except so far as it was necessary to cross the sea, and finishing the exploit by playing ball against the walls of that celebrated city. He was a perfect specimen of the Irish gentleman of the olden time. Gallant, reckless, and profuse, he made no account of money, limb, or life, when a bet was to be won, or a daring deed to be attempted. He spent a fine fortune in pursuits not more profitable than his expedition to play ball at Jerusalem; and rendered himself a cripple for life, by jumping from the drawing-room window of Daly’s club house, in College-green, on to the roof of a hackney coach which was passing.

My second sister was married to Sir Francis Burton, twin brother of the late Marquis Conyngham; and the third, as I have already said, to Colonel Edward Plunkett, afterwards 14th Lord Dunsany.] then unmarried, and our party from London to Paris was increased by the company of John Philip Kemble and the late Lord Holland. We arrived in the French capital in time to witness the last celebration that ever took place (July 14,1802) of the anniversary of the taking of the Bastile.

There was, however, another sight to be seen at that time in Paris, more extraordinary than any public fete or spectacle could possibly be; and being anxious to have an opportunity of forming a judgment for myself as to the appearance and manners of the greatest man then in the world, I asked the British minister, Mr. Merry, to present me to the First Consul. As my residence in the Tower had prevented me from paying my respects at St. James’s, Mr. Merry made some difficulty about standing sponsor for me at the court of Napoleon, at the same time assuring me that his refusal was occasioned altogether by the necessity for complying with strict regulations upon the subject of presentations, laid down by the First Consul himself. The difficulty, however, proved to be a trifling one, as when the subject was mentioned to Bonaparte, by Marshal Berthier, with whom I was made acquainted by General Lawless, he not only permitted me to be presented to him, but accompanied the permission with an invitation to attend a grand review, and to dine with him upon the day of presentation.

The occasion, at which Lord Holland was also present, was a remarkable one. We were received in the magnificent rooms of the Tuilleries, in great state; the stairs and ante-rooms being lined by men of the *corps d’elite, *in their splendid uniforms and baldricks of buff leather edged with silver. Upon our introduction refreshments were offered, and a circle was formed as at a private entreé. Napoleon entered freely into conversation with Lord Holland and myself, inquiring, among other matters, respecting the meaning of an Irish peerage, the peculiar character of which, and its difference from an English peerage, I had some difficulty in making him comprehend. While we were conversing, three knocks were heard at the door, and a deputation from the Conservative Senate presented itself, as if unexpectedly, and was admitted. The leader of the deputation addressed the First Consul in a set oration, tendering him the Consulate for life, to which he responded in an *extempore *speech, which, nevertheless, he read from a paper concealed in the crown of his hat.

Bonaparte was at that time very slight and thin in person, and, as far as I could judge, not possessed of much more information upon general subjects than of confidence in his own oratorical powers. Upon my expressing some surprise afterwards at the character of his remarks, I recollect General Lawless telling me that he and some other Irishmen (I believe Wolfe Tone was among them) had a short time before been engaged in a discussion with him respecting a project for the invasion of Ireland, when, after making many inquiries, and hearing their answers, he remarked that “it was a pity so fine a country should be so horribly infested with wolves.” Lawless and his companions assured him that such was not the case, to which he deigned no reply, but a contemptuous “bah!” The promotion to the consulate for life, which I had witnessed, occasioned much displeasure among the true republicans, both civil and military, and would, I think, have led to a serious *emeute, *had not these men then thought Napoleon necessary to their protection against, and vengeance upon, the coalition of European despots that had been organised against the liberties of France.

I was in a position to judge of the strength of those feelings as I found myself amongst a liberal minority of public men, who, having only just escaped from the horrors of the revolution, were anxious to preserve the liberty which had cost so dear, and who, while they admired and confided in the genius of Bonaparte, yet distrusted his ambition, and foresaw its consequences. Foremost in this category, I recollect, was that very *corps d’elite, *which I have mentioned, as forming the bodyguard of the First Consul. I frequently dined at their mess, to which I was introduced by General Lawless, and heard a vast quantity of talk, which, I have no doubt, Bonaparte would then have looked upon as nothing short of high treason, and which he would, in all probability, have dealt with accordingly, had he been aware of the extent to which it was indulged in.

During my residence in Paris in 1802, I was also on terms of intimate friendship with two persons, through whom I had considerable opportunity of learning the set of the under current of public opinion. One of these was Kosciusko, who brought me into acquaintance with many distinguished officers of the French army, and who, himself, formed a sort of centre of the republican party. The other was Helen Maria Williams, who held regular; assemblies at her apartments, at which the society was chiefly composed of liberal republicans and anti-Bonapartists, with a large sprinkling of Irish refugees. In such company I could not fail to become strongly impressed, not only with the general dislike of the new despotism entertained by liberal-minded Frenchmen, but, also, with the disgust entertained by my own countrymen, at the selfish and heartless manner in which they had been used and cast off by the various French governments, according as it suited their own temporary purposes.

The highest society of Paris at that time was not very agreeable. It was composed almost entirely of public officers, civil and military, and of persons connected with the government, as financiers and money contractors. Few of the former class derived much advantage from early habits of refinement, and the peculiarity of their suddenly elevated position did not tend to make them particularly agreeable members of the social circle. If, however, the latter laboured under any deficiencies of that sort, they covered them over by a profuse expenditure, and the most lavish employment of all the appliances of luxury. Remarkable among them was the banker, Recamier, at whose house at Rambouillet I was very hospitably entertained with a degree of luxury and magnificence that could scarcely be exceeded. Among the curiosities of the place were his wife’s dressing and bath-rooms; the latter of which was completely lined with mirrors, and, certainly, mirrors seldom reflected a more beautiful image than that of Madame Recamier, who was then acknowledged to be the handsomest woman in Paris. She was a blooming beauty, of the allegro caste - “buxom, blithe, and debonaire,” yet not devoid of a certain distinction of manner.

The practical quality of her mirth may be judged of from a specimen which I had an opportunity of witnessing, and which may be taken as illustrative of the tone of the Parisian society of the day:-Madame invited her guests, including a crowd of the principal ladies of the consular court, to visit a large conservatory, and when they were all engaged in admiring the plants, she set a-going among them some dozen or two of fountains, which spouted water in innumerable fine jets upwards from the floor to the height of two or three feet, the consternation of the guests furnishing ample enjoyment to the fair hostess.

The approach of the winter of 1802-3 drove us from Paris to seek a more southerly climate, and we accordingly moved en to Nice. We took Switzerland in our way, and visited Lyons, Nismes, Montpellier, Cette, Avignon, Vancluse, Marseilles, Toulon (where I passed some days very pleasantly with Admiral Gantheaume), Cannes, &c. At that time travelling was difficult in France. The roads were execrable, and infested with banditti. We were often placed in much danger, especially from the former of these causes; and I recollect that in the beautiful forest of L’Esterelle, between Toulon and Cannes, we were obliged to procure a number of men to hold the carriage upright, while it was dragged by several horses, with great difficulty, over the rough and rocky way. Nevertheless, we escaped without accident and passed the winter at Nice, where we found a mild climate, and, by chance, a tolerably good society that year.

Our comforts were, however, not, without drawbacks. During November and December it hardly ceased from raining; and in March, the heat and the gnats already began to be troublesome.

I have had a good deal of experience of foreign climates, and opportunity, too, of observing their effects upon invalids; and as the result, I must record my testimony against the futility of Irish invalids seeking more healthful skies abroad than they have at home. Travelling is, no doubt, itself a powerful and most agreeable agent in the restoration of health; but in cases of serious illness, I have never known the injury occasioned by separation from friends and loss of home comforts, to be compensated for by any of the vaunted climates of the invalid resorts of the continent. In Ireland there is, perhaps, somewhat of an excess of humidity; but still few days occur in the year during which exercise cannot be taken in the open air; and we have neither *bise, *nor *sirocco, *nor *malaria; *no *coups de soleil, *no agues, no mosquitoes.

The spot where I am now writing is within two hundred yards of the water of the Bay of Dublin, and the time is midwinter, yet the grass is as green as it was in April; myrtles are flourishing down to the very edge of the sea, and the honeysuckle is putting out fresh leaves. My recollection of the place now extends over 70 years, and I never, during that time, remember snow to have lain upon it for three consecutive days. On the other hand, I have found it necessary to have fires at Florence in July; and yet how many Irishmen make “the variable climate” of their native land an excuse for hiding from their duties under the pretence of seeking health under foreign skies.

From Nice we passed on through the principal Italian cities to Florence, where Clarke, afterwards

Duc de Feltre, was at that time ambassador from France at the court of the newly-made King of Etruria, who died during our stay, and was, I recollect, honoured with a funeral of extraordinary magnificence. About this period, however, the crazy nature of the peace of Amiens began to make itself evident; and Clarke, to whom I had been introduced by Berthier, privately warned me of the coming storm, and advised me to avoid placing him under the necessity of sending me to take a place among the English *detenus *at Verdun, by getting at once within the bounds of the Roman States, the neutrality of which would, probably, be respected by Napoleon.

We, accordingly, moved on to Rome, where I resided more than two years in great happiness, in the excellent native and foreign society of that city, and in a most agreeable domestic circle, which was, during the time, enlarged by the union of my sister with Colonel Plunkett, and my own marriage with the daughter of General Morgan, whom I met in Italy My brother-in-law and I jointly rented the Palazzo Accaioli, close to the Quirinal, popularly known as the Palazzo delle tre canelle, where we kept house together, and exercised such hospitality as was suitable to our position and rank.

It may be interesting, at this distance of time, to know the rent of a palace at Rome in 1803, and some old memoranda enable me to give the information. The Palazzo Accaioli contained 14 or 15 principal rooms splendidly furnished; there were extensive gardens and orange grounds, with marble fountains, and other things customary to correspond; for all which we paid 400 dollars, or, at the current rate of exchange, about £90 a-year.

Such, however, was the state of civilisation then, that we were forced to purchase an old French sentry-box, and exercise our ingenuity in anticipating that Parisian invention, the use of which, and its name of *Cabinet, *so often puzzle English visitors upon their first promenades in the Champs Elysees. In the time of former occupants of the Palazzo, the worship of Cloacina was celebrated on the flat roof, the altar being the funnel of a chimney leading to some disused apartment. I am quite certain there was not then to be seen in Europe, south of Lyons, any, even the most uncouth, substitute for those conveniencies, which are to be found in the meanest houses of England.

The condition of the Roman states about the period of my arrival in the Eternal City was, in many respects, very strange. A short time previous, the French had been driven out by the Russians and English; and during the first months of my residence, the 12th British Light Dragoons were acting as a bodyguard to the Pope. Massena had been French governor of the city, and had levied contributions upon it with so much severity as to disgust even his own officers, who had exhibited their dislike at the unnecessary harshness of his proceedings by placing him in a sort of coventry. The effect of those exactions had, of course, been to involve the Roman citizens of the upper classes in extreme pecuniary difficulties, which obliged them to sell their pictures, statues, and other works of art, and made Rome a very favourable market for the *virtuoso. *Among those who dealt largely in that traffic, was the noted Hervey, Earl of Bristol and Bishop of Derry, who was in the habit of receiving regular remittances from home of upwards of £5,000 quarterly, which he immediately expended in the purchase of every article of vertú that came within his reach. In this, as in most other cases, however, the proverb came true - wilful waste made woeful want; and towards the end of the quarter, the noble prelate used to find his purse absolutely empty, and his credit so low as to be insufficient to procure him a bottle of Orvieto. Then followed a dispersion of his collection, as rapidly as it was gathered, but, as might be expected, at a heavy discount. [ I have seen the eccentric Earl-Bishop ride about the streets of Rome, dressed in red plush breeches and a broad-brimmed white or straw hat, and was often asked if that was the canonical costume of an Irish prelate. His irregularities were so strange, as to render any story that might be told about him credible, and, of course, to cause the invention of many, that in reference to any other person would be incredible. I recollect Colonel Plunkett making a bargain with a carriage-keeper for the services of a vehicle, and upon his remonstrating against a demand of 14 instead of 12 crowns a-mouth asked by another, being told that it was easy for the competitor to work cheap, as his wife had an amico, who was a farmer, and sold the complaisant husband oats and hay cheap; while he himself was, on the contrary, obliged to raise his charges in consequence of his wife being thrown back upon his hands by the death of Milor il Yescovo. The bishop was taken suddenly ill, on a journey from Albano to Rome, and died in the outhouse of a cottage, to which he was carried, in consequence of the unwillingness of the peasants to admit a heretic-prelate to die under their roof. I took charge of the wreck of his property at Rome, and was enabled to save it for his heirs.] I was sometimes a purchaser upon these occasions; and being also, by the kindness of the Pope, permitted to make excavations, I accumulated a collection of considerable value, a part of which is now at Lyons. The largest and most valuable portion of this treasure of art was, however, lost by shipwreck in Killiney Bay, within two hours’ sail of Dublin.

It was in vain that legal difficulties wore thrown in the way of this extensive sale of the monuments of ancient splendour. A law, with very stringent provisions, forbade the removal of antiquities from Rome ; but the poverty of their owners, or of the authorities, always opened a way to evade it. Thus, among the most unmanageable of my acquisitions was that of four pillars of polished red granite, which I was formally forbidden to remove from Rome, although it was conceded that I might deal with them as I pleased within the bounds of the city. Nevertheless, a little management, and a threat that I might take advantage of my ownership, to cut the columns into blocks, shortly removed all obstacles, and they now form the support of the portico of Lyons House.

These pillars had a strange history. Three of them had been taken from the Golden House of Nero, and used by Raffaelle in ornamenting the Farnesine Palace, from which, with a fourth, apparently similar, they were brought by the Baron Von Humboldt, who was then at Rome, engaged in collecting works of art for the King of Prussia. The baron, however, declined to complete the purchase, upon finding that the fourth pillar was of grey granite, and had been painted red by Raffaelle, in order to match the others. As I was upon terms of intimacy with him, be told me the history of the pillars, into which he had inquired, and I bought them upon his certificate of their origin. Some time afterwards, in excavating in the ruins of the baths of Titus, I found a fourth, but much larger, red column, which I had chiselled down and polished to match the other three, and, as soon as I had extorted the permission to remove them, I shipped the whole for Ireland.

Now that (while I write) the descendants of the ancient masters of the world are apparently about to enter, with somewhat of the spirit of their forefathers, upon a deadly struggle for freedom and progress, it must needs seem strange to me to look back upon that odd mixture of bigotry, feebleness, and despotism, with extreme kindness and urbanity, which formed the Roman civilisation of the commencement of the present century. Nothing could exceed the attention and friendship shown to myself by the government and people of all classes, and yet I recollect upon several occasions attending funerals to the English burying-ground, when, the moment the heretical body approached the bank of the Tiber, it was saluted by the Trasteverini, with the cry of “al fiume,” not, I believe, with any intention of mischief, hut, rather, as a formal protest against heresy. When also a flood, at one time, rose into the Ghetto, the sentries at the gates drove back the poor Jews into their dwellings, without appearing to entertain the least compassion for these unfortunate outcasts, although they did not interfere with my brother-in-law and myself, when we brought a boat and picked numbers of them off the roofs, and from the windows of their houses.

At this very time my requests for permission to excavate, and, indeed, any other favours I asked, were granted in the most gracious manner; nay, the complacency of the authorities was carried so far, that when a servant whom I had been obliged to put away for misconduct, attempted to revenge himself by going to law, his first step was met by a message being sent to me to inquire what amount of punishment I would wish to have awarded for that act of insolence.

The fabric of society seemed to have lost all strength and power of cohesion, and yet to retain the outward form and shape of a community. The government, altogether at the mercy of any enemy or ally that chose to attack or protect it, still affected to maintain a sort of array; and a Papal fleet - the two frigates, St. Peter and St. Paul - lay in ordinary at Civita Vecehia, and was commanded by the Marquis del Specchio, who filled the office of Italian teacher to my sisters, and constantly came to the performance of his functions in full admiral’s uniform.

The people were sunk in bigotry and superstition, which permitted no access to their minds of ideas of liberty or national independence. The nobility despaired for their country, or thought not of her, and diverted themselves, as best they could, with passing amusements. I have often spent a whole morning at a whist table, placed between the beds of a prince and princess, with a cardinal for my partner, and their excellencies, comfortably reclining under their bedclothes, for our adversaries. On we played until dinner-time; none of the party, except myself ever spending a thought upon the fallen state of the great city. Yet, many of those who thus trifled away their time from day to day, were the reputed descendants of the ancient Romans, and the natural leaders of their fellow-citizens, then exciting, and made the sport of English, French, and Russian soldiery, as the chances of war, and their own feebleness, gave occasion.

Let us hope that this apathy has passed away, and that the sons of the Romans of 1803 will show that they possess the sterner virtues of their more remote progenitors - but in addition to, not to the exclusion of, the many amiable qualities of their fathers.

In those days, it would have been impossible to have found a more polished kindliness than generally existed among the Italian nobility, or a frame of mind more accurately formed upon the Epicurean model, in so far as related to their conception of political and social duties. The highest nobles shrank from the cares and troubles of government, and laughed at the pretensions of the ambitious ecclesiastics, who took upon themselves the charge of their bodies and souls; yet those same men were themselves so influenced by the desire of letting things go on in the old way, as to submit, without murmuring, but with a strange inconsistency, to grave annoyances, or even to active exertion, in connexion with matters in which the popular superstitions were involved. Thus, my friend Prince Massimo (who, by the way, traced his descent from Fabius Maximus) happening to have, in the upper story of his palace, a shrine of the Virgin of peculiar sanctity, he submitted patiently to the continual passage through his house, at all times and seasons, of every beggar who chose to make that shrine the object of his devotion. I have seen, too, the King of Sardinia march through the streets of Rome, in a procession of *Frati, *bearing on his shoulder a cross, large enough to be used as an instrument of execution, and which an observer would have supposed to be too heavy for the muscular powers of a stout coalporter, not to speak of those of a very feeble king. In relation to this particular occurrence, however, I am bound to admit, that his Majesty tempered his pious zeal with discretion, as I found, when happening to visit him, on the day of this exhibition, I saw, in an ante-room, the identical cross under which he had been toiling in the morning; and, upon examining it, discovered that it was composed of bark merely, and did not weigh more than a few pounds.

In accounting for such compliances as these, however, credit must be given to the Italian nobles for a degree of ignorance which it is scarcely possible to conceive. It is a fact, that when the Prince Borghese, the brother-in-law of Napoleon, was nominated to some public office, it became necessary to have a stamp made, for the purpose of affixing his mark to public documents, as he was incapable of signing his name. Nor was the ignorance of this Prince - one of the wealthiest nobles in Rome - to be attributed, as that of our fox-hunting squires used to be, to immoderate cultivation of the physical powers, for I have seen his excellency during our rides together, tumble off his horse upon very slight provocation; nevertheless, neither physical nor intellectual deficiencies prevented him from becoming a general, through the influence of his imperial brother-in-law.

In striking contrast, however, with the intellectual feebleness of the Italian aristocracy, appeared to me the vigour of some of the class of artists, in which I was fortunate enough to make an extensive acquaintance; and, among the number, Canova, with whom I travelled for a part of the way on my journey from Rome to Vienna, to which latter city he was going for the purpose of erecting a monument to one of the Austrian archduchesses. I was a frequent visitor at his studio, and was often favoured with his advice when making purchases of works of art. Canova was a thorough liberal and patriot; though his devotion to art, and the modesty of his nature, prevented him from expressing his feelings respecting the condition of his country in any public mariner. In private society, nevertheless, I had abundant opportunities of observing and admiring the workings of his grand, yet simple mind; and when liberty and human progress were the subjects of his thoughts, they were not unworthy of an ancient Roman.

During my residence in Rome, I was commissioned by some parties in London to engage Canova to execute a statue of Francis Duke of Bedford, for which the subscribers were willing to give a large price. He was, however, obliged to decline the engagement, saying, that if he had another lease of life, he would be unable - to execute the works he had been forced to undertake. In his studio there were, then, statues, nearly finished, of the legitimate King of Naples, in his robes of state, and of the usurping Emperor Napoleon, unrobed, but with the rudder, globe, and other emblems of imperial sovereignty; and, certainly, the contrast was a strange one between these counterfeit presentiments of two brothers; more characteristic allegorical representations of hereditary succession and mental supremacy could scarcely be conceived.

“See how fortunate he is in everything,” said Canova to me, as he turned from looking at the image of the stupid king, *de jure, *to contemplate the noble figure of the monarch, *de facto, *of continental Europe - “see how fortunate he is: that block of marble is the only one I ever got from Carrara undamaged by a single flaw.” The statue is now, I believe, in Apsley House.

The proximity of my residence to the Quirinal, was the groundwork of an acquaintance with the Pope, Pius the Seventh, from whom I received much kindness. Among his other civilities, he gave me a key for the Quirinal gardens, and permission to use them when I pleased - a privilege which afforded me frequent opportunities of conversing with his Holiness, as when we met in the garden, he was in the habit of inviting me to join him in his walk. He was a kind-hearted, worthy man, not deficient in shrewdness, and sufficiently tolerant in conversation. His disposition in this latter respect, I recollect frequently putting to the proof, by telling him that it was in his power to effect two great reforms - a moral and a physical - by a single decree, which should set the monks of Rome at work in the cultivation of the Campagna, and thereby curing them of the moral plague of the vast idleness of the convents, and the no less baneful physical evil of malaria. He never denied the existence either of the one pest or the other, although I never succeeded in prevailing upon him to adopt my plan for their removal.

When Pius left Rome, on his way to France, to crown Napoleon, Lord Mountcashel, Colonel Plunkett, and I testified our respect and gratitude for his kindness by accompanying him on horseback as far as Viterbo, where he bade us farewell.

The cavalcade consisted of 16 or 18 carriages, only one of which was provided with springs; and that was one sent from Paris for the express use of his Holiness. This was quite a splendid affair, with a false bottom of silver, to hold warm water, as the weather was cold; but the poor cardinals in the Pope’s suite were jolted along in vehicles not less inconvenient and rude than the ancient biga, though profusely adorned with gilding, and lined with velvet.

Among the prominent members of Roman society in those days, was the last of the Stuarts, Cardinal York, with whom I became somewhat of a favourite, probably by virtue of addressing him as “Majesty,” and thus going a step farther than the Duke of Sussex, who was on familiar terms with him, and always applied to him the style of Royal Highness.

The Cardinal was in the receipt of an income of eight or nine thousand pounds a-year, of which he received £4,000 from his royal rival, George III., and the remainder from his ecclesiastical benefices. This revenue was then, in Italy, equivalent at least to £20,000; and it enabled his Eminence to assume somewhat of royal state. He was waited upon with all suitable ceremony, and his equipages were numerous and splendid, and freely placed at the disposal of his guests. He was in the habit of receiving visitors very hospitably at his villa, at Frescati, where I was often a guest, and *was *frequently amused by a reproduction of the scenes between Sancho Panza and his physician, during the reign of the squire in the island of Barataria. His Eminence was an invalid, and under a strict regimen; but as he still retained his tastes for savoury meats, a contest usually took place between him and his servants for the possession of rich diet, which they formally set before him, and then endeavoured to snatch away, while he, with greater eagerness, strove to seize it in its transit.

Among the Cardinal’s most favourite attendants, was a miserable cur dog, which, probably, having been cast off by its master, as being neither useful nor ornamental, one day attached itself to his Eminence at the gate of St. Peter’s, an occurrence to which he constantly referred, as a proof of his true royal blood-the cur being, as he supposed, a King Charles spaniel, and, therefore, endowed with an instinctive, hereditary acquaintance with the house of Stuart. Upon the occasion of my visit to Frescati, I presented the Cardinal with a telescope, which he seemed to fancy, and received from him, in return, the large medal struck in honour of his accession to his unsubstantial throne. Upon one side of this medal was the royal bust, with the cardinal’s hat, and the words, *Henricus nonus Dei gratia Rex, and upon the other, the arms of England, with the motto on the exerque:- Haud desideriis hominum, sed voluntate Dei. *[So trifling an article as a telescope will scarcely seem to be a present worthy of the acceptance of a Prince of the Church, and King, even though his sovereignty was not *de facto; *but it is scarcely possible, at the present time, to bring home to the mind a conception of the value which then, under the operation of the continental system, was set upon articles of English manufacture in Italy. The Cardinal was in the highest delight with my gift; and an ordinary dressing-case, given by my sister to Princess Massime, was the admiration of all the Roman ladies, to whom it was sometimes shown as a special favour. Many English-made articles it was absolutely impossible to purchase. I recollect the Prince Borghese, when he wished to decorate a chamber for the reception of his wife, Pauline Bonaparte, was obliged to eke out a small turkey carpet with pieces of baize, of different textures and shades of colour.]

While speaking of the *debris *of the house of Stuart, I may mention Louisa de Stollberg, Madame D’Albany, the widow of the Pretender, Charles Edward, and the *chere amie, *or privately-married wife of Count Alfieri, the celebrated poet. At the time of my first residence in Italy, this lady lived in Florence, where, as well as at Rome, she was one of the leaders of society. She paid me a lengthened visit in the latter city, and I was frequently a guest at her house. Upon these occasions Alfieri was in the habit of sitting on a sofa, in a sort of state, not mingling with the company, but conversing with those who came about him, always provided there was no Frenchman among the number. For the whole French nation he entertained the most cordial hatred, and lost no opportunity of exhibiting his feelings without disguise or modification. Excepting when he was in special good humour, Alfieri’s manners were savage and repulsive, forming a strong contrast to those of Madame D’Albany, who was highly informed and very agreeable. At her receptions, while Alfieri thus sat part, in a kind of moody grandeur, she used to stand at the tea-table, with an apron over her dress, with her own hands serving tea to her guests.

Italy in 1803, 4, and 5, was comparatively but little frequented by travellers; and those foreigners who were temporarily residing in the great cities were chiefly English and Russians. They were mostly persons of rank, and were, in general freely admitted into the best native society. Among the former was a personage who somewhat perplexed the Papal master of the ceremonies, as she had before disquieted the royal mind of England. This was Anne, Duchess of Cumberland, sister-in-law of George III., and sister to the Earl of Carhampton. It was in consequence of the marriage of this lady with the Duke of Cumberland, and that of the Countess Waldegrave with the Duke of Gloucester, that the Royal Marriages Act was passed in England; and as some rumours in relation to the effect of that measure had reached Rome, I recollect being consulted by the authorities, as to whether royal honours should or should not be paid to the duchess. I, of course, took part with the weakest; and, upon my showing of the state of the case, a guard of honour was regularly mounted at her Royal Highness’ residence. This piece of service raised me to a very high place in the duchess’ favour, and was rewarded, in kind, by her becoming sponsor to my eldest son, and insisting upon conferring upon him her own name of Anne.

The circle also contained two other *quasi *royal members - Princes of Mechlenburg Schwerin and Strelitz. Upon these distinguished personages the Irish parliament had humbly begged to be allowed to confer pensions, payable from the Irish exchequer, of £3,000 a-year each; and his Majesty George III. had graciously permitted his faithful Commons to enjoy that high honour. I recollect, nevertheless, that the difficulty of exciting their Highnesses to a sense of the duty of hospitality was a standing jest among us. After they had been entertained by the whole party of foreign residents, they formally excused themselves from giving a dinner, on the score of the want of guards of honour and other appurtenances of regal state - an excuse which, as soon as the pinch of the case was seen, was generally voted to be insufficient. Assurances were poured in from all sides that ceremony would be waived; and at length, after much laughing, we succeeded in forcing upon the princes the desperate alternative of giving a dinner.

There were among the Russian residents two remarkable characters: one was Orloff, the favourite of the Empress Catherine, whom I frequently met at Naples; and the other, the Prince Potemkin, son of the more celebrated owner of that name. The introduction of the Muscovite element made a strange mixture in our society, where, as sometimes happened, discussions arose that brought the habitual, steady English love of freedom in conflict of argument with the fierce, barbarian vigour of the Russians; and that, too, in presence of the polished feebleness of some noble subject of the Church. I shall never forget one of these occasions, when the comparative merits of democracy and despotism being under debate, the risk of mischief at the hands of a senseless, ill-conditioned tyrant was urged as more than a counterpoise for the good that could be done by a benevolent and wise autocrat. “Against that risk,” exclaimed Count Pahlen, who was present, “we have a safeguard. Here is the constitution of Russia!” and, starting up, he closed the argument by drawing a dagger from his pocket, and flinging it upon the table, with an earnestness and energy that left no doubt of his personal willingness to put that sharp, constitutional remedy in operation, should a wrong requiring it arise within his cognizance.

In calling up my recollections of Rome, I must not omit to mention the names of two fellow-countrymen from whom I received many marks of kindness. I allude to the Inquisitor General Concanen, and the Abbé Taylor, head of the Irish monastery of St. Isdore. The former was a very handsome man, and, in society at least, quite free from any visible signs of the nature of his office, or any indication that he wielded the terrors of the Inquisition. The Abbé Taylor was generally supposed to be the priest who married George IV. to Mrs. Fitzherbert. He was a busy little man, always ready to serve his friends, or do any act of kindness; and, from his ubiquitous movements, was somewhat irreverently designated by his *comperes, *by the nickname of *il spirito santo. *The following letter, half French, half English, gives no bad picture of the man, while it contains some Roman gossip of the day, illustrative, so far as it goes, of the state of intelligence that then existed in the Eternal City:- *

The Abbé Taylor to Lord Cloncurry.*

Rome, St. Clements, Dec. ye 20th, 1805.

“My worthy, good Lord-A letter from your Lordship, dated from London, November ye** **2nd, found me at Frescati, where I had been on a visit for near five weeks. The pleasure I felt on receiving it, no words can express. To hear of your Lordship being so near home, and in good health and spirits, as well as Lady Cloncurry and the dear little ones, was the most pleasing intelligence I could wish to receive. The account you also give of my respectable friends, Colonel and Mrs. Plunkett, and sweet Edward, gives me infinite satisfaction; and had I to wish for any other information respecting the family, it would be to hear that Madame Whalley was equally well and happy. Give me leave now, my dear Lord, to congratulate your Lordship on the safe arrival of all your Roman cargo - a most fortunate event, *considerata considerandis. *Mr. Wm. Moore, and Mr. Gerna were highly delighted on hearing this agreeable piece of news.

---

On parle ici beaucoup de la paix; puisse la divine Providence nous l’accorder a tous, et le bonheur qui vient a sa suite; c’est a dire l’harmonie et la bonne intelligence entre notre pauvre patrie et l’Angleterre. Puissent les deux nations se rappeller qn’ils sont freres et depouillant tout esprit d’animosite et d’orgueil se rapprocher des loix sacrees de l’humanite; et ne ohercher desormais la gloire et le bonheur que dans la pratique de la justlice et des loix sociales. Avant de finir cette lettre, permettez moi, my Lord, d’avoir l’honneur de vous offrir les voeux sinceres que je fais bien cordialement pour la conservation de votre chere personne, pour celle de my Lady et des charmants enfans, en tout tems, et particulierement dans les saintes fetes de Noel et du jour de l’an. Puisse le ciel vous accorder a tous, les agremens et les jouissances les plus pures pendant une longue suite d’annee’s.

All intercourse between this place and Venice has been stopped since the declaration of war against Germany, so that we are here at a very great loss how to send our letters to England; and as for the Exchange on that country, it is so low (besides the bankers, in general, don’t seem much inclined to take bills on London), that I have put off till a more favourable occasion, to draw for money.

Cardinal F---h, [Cardinal Fesch, Bonaparte’s maternal uncle.] about six weeks ago, paid a visit to our church, and after, came and sat with me, in my room, for better than half an hour, and most graciously insisted on my dining with him, and sent his carriage for me. At dinner, his Eminence paid me the greatest attention. The conversation never touched on politics, and the company was very numerous. Your Lordship may easily imagine that my having accepted of this invitation, which I could not, *sans etre impoli, *refuse, was condemned. By whom? By those who would have gladly accepted such an invitation, had it been made to them.

I wrote twice to Madame Plunkett since I received her letter, but, as yet, have got no answer. The baglia’s father died in November last, and that suddenly. My best respects to General and Mrs. Cockburn, as also to my worthy, good friend, Mr. Thomas Dillon. I shall be happy to hear often from your Lordship, and receive your orders.

Believe me, with due respect and esteem, &c.

Joseph Taylor.”

After a residence of more than two years in Rome, I turned my steps homeward in the summer of 1805, and, as the war with France was then raging, I was obliged to make the journey by a circuitous route. From Rome I proceeded to Ancona, and thence to Pesaro, whence, having made an excursion to Spalatro in Dalmatia, to visit the ruins of the palace of Diocletian, I went on to Venice, and so by Trieste, and through Carinthia to Vienna. From Ancona to Venice I made the journey in company with Madame de Stael, and I shall not easily forget a scene in which I witnessed her acting upon our arrival at the city of St. Mark. She made it a point never to waive any of the ceremonial which she thought properly belonged to her rank. She always took care to have the guard of authors turned out, whenever she approached a position, and never failed to accept all the honours of literature.

Following out her custom in this respect she had written to announce her approach to a poet, resident at Venice, whose name I now forget, but which happened to be identical with that of the principal butcher of the city. By some blundering of the postal authorities, Madame la Baronne’s letter was delivered to Signor ---, the butcher, instead of to Signor ---, the poet, and the former, anxious to secure so distinguished a customer, carefully watched our arrival and lost not a minute in paying his respects to the baroness. She, of course, was prepared to receive the homage of genius, *en cour pleniere, *and we were all (including M. de Sismondi, the historian of the Italian republics, who was in the company) convened to witness the meeting. Neither of the high saluting parties knew the power of the other, and it was some time before an explanation came about, the ridiculous character of which it is easier to conceive than to describe.

Here, again, I came into contact with some of my fellow-countrymen, and was fortunately enabled to do them a bit of service. They were 12 or 14 poor United Irishmen, who had been handed over into a kind of slavery to the King of Prussia, by the English government, and who having got tired of their servitude, had deserted from the army, and made their way. into Austria. Just at the time of my arrival, a demand for their surrender had been made by their Prussian commander, and was supported by two or three ultra-loyal Irishmen, who happened at the time to be in Vienna. The Emperor’s confessor, also an Irishman, made what fight he could for them, and I, having joined my force to his, made an appeal on their behalf to Sir Arthur Paget, the British ambassador, which was ultimately successful and, instead of being returned to the Prussian service, the poor fellows were allowed to proceed with me to England, protected by a passport from Sir Arthur. As the roads were very bad, they were able to keep up with me on foot in this long journey, and I had the satisfaction, years afterwards, of hearing from some of them from their comfortable settlements in the north of Ireland.

From Vienna I passed on to Prague and Dresden, and in the latter city made the acquaintance of Prince Xavier, of Saxony, who being the father-in-law of my friend the Prince Massimo, was profuse in his kindness and attention to me and my party. We passed some days with the prince at his Schloss of Zabelditz, a few miles distant from Dresden, and there partook of the old German princely hospitality in its most unsophisticated shape. His Highness’ household was regal in number, and the employments and amusements of its members regulated in the ancient feudal fashion. When the weather admitted, we hunted the boar in great force; and, on one or two occasions, when we were obliged to keep within doors, I recollect the tedium of the long afternoon was relieved by the introduction of a couple of boar hounds (the largest dogs I ever saw) into the dining-hall; to hunt a bagged polecat - the chief zest of the sport being the terror of the ladies, and their efforts to avoid the enormous dogs and their odoriferous quarry, by jumping upon chairs and tables as they approached.

After visiting Berlin, I proceeded northwards to Lubeck, and having made a short tour through Denmark, I embarked at a small port near Tonningen, the name of which I now forget, and passing through England, arrived at home, at the close of the year 1805, after an absence of about three years.

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