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Lady Morgan’s Memoirs
Lady Morgan to Lady Olivia Clarke, May 1819
INTRODUCTION & INDEXES
DOCUMENT INFORMATION
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Preface
Vol. I Contents.
Prefatory Address
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
Chapter VII
Chapter VIII
Chapter IX
Chapter X
Chapter XI
Chapter XII
Chapter XIII
Chapter XIV
Chapter XV
Chapter XVI
Chapter XVII
Chapter XVIII
Chapter XIX
Chapter XX
Chapter XXI
Chapter XXII
Chapter XXIII
Chapter XXIV
Chapter XXV
Chapter XXVI
Chapter XXVII
Chapter XXVIII
Chapter XXIX
Chapter XXX
Chapter XXXI
Chapter XXXII
Chapter XXXIII
Chapter XXXIV
Chapter XXXV
Chapter XXXVI
Chapter XXXVII
Chapter XXXVIII
Vol. I Index
Vol. II Contents
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter IV
Chapter VII
Chapter VIII
Chapter IX
Chapter X
Chapter XI
Chapter XII
Chapter XIII
Chapter XIV
Chapter XV
Chapter XVI
Chapter XVII
Chapter XVIII
Chapter XIX
Chapter XX
Chapter XXI
Chapter XXII
Chapter XXIII
Chapter XXIV
Chapter XXV
Chapter XXVI
Chapter XXVII
Chapter XXVIII
Chapter XXIX
Chapter XXX
Chapter XXXI
Chapter XXXII
Chapter XXXIII
Chapter XXXIV
Chapter XXXV
Chapter XXXVI
Chapter XXXVII
Chapter XXXVIII
Chapter XXXIX
Chapter XL
Vol. II Index
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Milan, Alberto Reale,
May 1819.
My dear Love

By this I trust you have received my letter from Geneva,* which we left with difficulty and infinite regret. We had entreaties and invitations to remain for months to come, and as a temptation to bring us back, we have the offer of a house and garden on the

* Published in “Odd Volume.”—Bentley, 1858.

SOJOURN IN ITALY—1819.89
Lake as long as we please to occupy it. We were loaded with books and little presents at our departure, and letters and notes of adieu, with the most flattering testimonies of esteem and even of affection. They were all astonishment at what they termed my simplicity, as they expected to find me a learned lady at all points. The day before we departed we dined with the Prince or Hospodar of Wallachia, who is travelling with his charming family of three generations, his Prime Minister, and a number of his court! What I would have given if you had seen us in the midst of their turbans and beards! the Princesses and the sweet little children speaking nothing but Greek, and conversing with me by signs, all dressed in. Greek costume, and the servants in the beautiful Albanian dress! The men speak French like Parisians, and we have made up a great intimacy with Mavrocordato, the minister, who is young, handsome, and pleasant. The women had eyebrows painted like a horseshoe down to the nose. They set out for Italy the day after us, and overtook us on the road with a suite of five carriages. Our first day’s journey from Geneva was through the lovely valleys of Savoy to Chambery—the capital. There we had letters, and found green peas, strawberries, and kind and enlightened people. Accompanied by learned librarians and professors, we visited the public institutions, and what interested me more, the town and country house of Madame de Warrens. For the whole of our journey, so far, see Rousseau’s Confessions. Here we found my France better known than in Ireland, for although it was mise à l’Index,
90 LADY MORGAN'S MEMOIR.  
that is interdicted by the government with Madame de Stael’s last work, I was assured that it was to be found in almost every house.

Having passed two or three days in Chambery, which is not much larger than Drogheda, we proceeded the next day through scenes of romantic beauty that defy all description. At a lovely Alpine village—Aquibelle, we were so delighted, that we made a halt, and made some delightful little excursions on foot, where no carriage could penetrate. Here the snow mountains rose closely on us. The next day’s journey all appearances of spring gradually faded into a perfect winter, the horrible grandeurs of the Alps multiplied around us, and fatigued in spirits and imagination, we reached the dreary little village of Lanslebourg late in the evening, where all presented a Lapland scene, nothing but snow and ice, and a hurricane blowing from the mountains. We found at the foot of Mont Cenis, which we were to begin to ascend the next morning, an inn kept by a good little Englishwoman, and I believe, next to finding myself at your chimney corner, this truly English inn gave me the greatest pleasure I could feel. It snowed all night, and we began our ascent in a shower of snow, with four stout horses and two postilions dragging our light carriage. My imagination became completely seized as we proceeded, and I sat silent for near seven hours, my teeth clenched, my hands closed, my whole existence absorbed in the sublime horror that surrounded me. The clouds that form your sky were rolling at our feet, and the pinnacles of the mountains were con-
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fronted with the dark vapours which formed their Alpine firmaments in stormy weather. We had a slight glimpse of what they call “la tourmente” which obliges travellers to employ guides to hold down the carriage on each side to prevent its being carried away. We had three feet of snow under our wheels; but the road was otherwise fine. Such a noble work, such a monument of the mighty means and great views of Bonaparte! As we descended, a slow spring gradually opened on us, the snows were melting, the trees budding, and once arrived in the lovely plains of Lombardy, the same glowing summer presented itself we had left in the valleys of Savoy. We passed a day at the first Italian town we reached, Susa, at the foot of Mont Cenis, and with the old Governor, with whom we had a delightful scene. The next day we arrived at Turin—a pretty city of palaces—took a handsome apartment in the Hotel de l’Europe, and sent out our letters of presentation by our Italian valet de place. The next day the whole town of Turin was down on us. Some of the corps diplomatique, some of the ministers and officers of the Court, the Prussian Ambassador and Ambassadress, the Prince Hohenzollern, the principal physicians and professors;—all left their cards and offers of service. The Countess of Valpergua, one of the leaders of the haute noblesse, took us at once to herself, and without the least form or ceremony, told us that in the first place we must command her carriages, and horses, and her box at the opera. The night after our arrival she made a ball for us and introduced us personally to the whole Piedmontese noblesse. The
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palace Valpergua, was the first Italian great house I saw, and the suite of rooms we passed through that night were, I think, more spacious and numerous than the rooms of state at the Castle, though Madame Valpergua told me she had only opened half the suite. A few nights afterwards, the Prussian Ambassadress made a ball for us equally brilliant. She told me that she had lately been at Baden, and that the Princess of Baden, hearing I was travelling, was very anxious to see me and pay us every attention—that they had both spent a night crying over The Missionary. But what flattered us infinitely more, was the attention of the Count de Balbo, minister, who, as head of the University, gave orders that all the professors should attend to receive us. At the University, imagine my shame to see all the learned muftis in their robes, each in his department, receiving us at the doors of their halls and colleges. In the Cabinet de Physique, they prepared all sorts of chemical experiments for us, &c., &c. These poor gentlemen were under arms three days for us. I must give you one of our days at Turin. From nine to twelve, morning, we received visits from professors and literati who accompanied us to see the sights. Every one dined at two o’clock. Between four and five, regularly, the Countess Valpergua called for us in an open carriage, and we drove to see some villa near the town. By seven o’clock we were back for the Corso, where all the nobility drive up and down till the opera begins. From thence we went to a coffee-house and had ices, and then to the Opera, where, during the
SOJOURN IN ITALY—1819.93
whole night, visits were received, and everything was attended to but the music; by eleven we were at home. The Court was at Genoa; but the Master of the Ceremonies showed us the palace from top to bottom.

At last here we are, in the ancient capital of Lombardy, now under the government of the Emperor of Austria, whose brother, the Arch-Duke Regnier, is the lord-lieutenant here. Milan is a very fine city, and as far as we have gone, a delightful residence for us. The Count Confalonieri, and his lovely Countess, came to us the moment of our arrival, and from that moment attentions, visits, friendship, and services on all sides. Madame Confalonieri began by taking us to the Corso, one of the great places of exhibition, and introducing us at the Casino, where the nobility are exclusive, and where even professional men are not admitted, and then insisting on our considering her opera-box as ours during our residence here. Thus presented, our success was undoubted; but we found it was already prepared for us by the eternal France, and by Morgan’s work in French, sent here from Geneva.* Not only the liberal party have visited and invited us, but the Austrian Commander-in-Chief and his wife have been to see us, and we have spent an evening there. We dined yesterday at the Count de Porrio’s, whose palace is celebrated for its Etruscan vases, &c., &c. The Italian dinner is very elegant; the table is covered with alabaster vases, flowers, fruit, and all sorts of ornaments; the soups and meats, are

* Outlines of the Physiology of Life.

94 LADY MORGAN'S MEMOIR.  
served on the side-table, cut up, and handed round by the servants, so all is kept cool and fresh—the great object of their lives here. From the only English residents here, we have received the kindest and most hospitable attentions. These are Lord and Lady Kinnaird, and Colonel and Lady Martha Keating.

The Opera-house is considerably larger than the Opera-house at London, and truly magnificent and imposing; but the stage only is lighted: the women go in great bonnets, and it is, therefore, by no means so brilliant or enjoyable as ours. The orchestra is immense, and the scenery, for beauty and taste, beyond what you can imagine; and the ballet the finest in Europe as a drama, though the dancing is bad; as soon as the ballet begins, every one attends. They have played one wretched opera for these forty nights back, for they don’t change these entertainments ten times a year. Last night we had a new one brought out, and helped to damn it. God bless you all, dear loves, and send me safe back to you!

S. M.