Life in Hanover Square – Visit to France – Arago – Cuvier – Rome
[My father was appointed, in 1816, a member of the Army Medical Board, and it became necessary for him to reside in London. He and my mother accordingly wished farewell to Scotland, and proceeded to take up their residence in Hanover Square. My mother preserved the following recollections of this journey:—]
ON our way we stopped a day at Birmingham, on purpose to see Watt and Boulton’s manufactory of steam engines at Soho. Mr Boulton showed us everything.44 The engines, some in action, although beautifully smooth, showed a power that was almost fearful. Since these early forms of the steam engine I have lived to see this all but omnipotent instrument change the locomotion of the whole civilised world by sea and by land.
[1D, 74: There is now a railway over the top of Mont Cenis, and a tunnel seven miles long through the Alps will be opened in a few years, so notwithstanding the wisdom of Solomon there is a good deal new under the sun.45 I wonder what will be discovered and done before the year 1968. What is left to do? Perhaps to fly if they can carry a point of resistance aloft in a balloon the Mr Glaisher° of that day may become acquainted with ‘the man i’ the moon and his dog and his bush.’]
Soon after our arrival in London we became acquainted with the illustrious family of the Herschels, through the kindness of our friend Professor Wallace, for it was by his arrangement that we spent a day with Sir William8 and Lady Herschel, at Slough. Nothing could exceed the kindness of Sir William. He made us examine his celebrated telescopes, and explained their mechanism; and he showed us the manuscripts which recorded the numerous astronomical discoveries he had made. They were all arranged in the most perfect order, as was also his musical library, for that great genius was an excellent musician. Unfortunately, his sister, Miss Caroline Herschel°, who shared in the talents of the family, was abroad, but his son, afterwards Sir John, my dear friend for many years, was at home, quite a youth. It would be difficult to name a branch of the physical sciences which he has not enriched by important discoveries. He has ever been a dear and valued friend to me, whose advice and criticism I gratefully acknowledge.
I took lessons twice a week from Mr Glover°, who painted landscapes very prettily, and I liked him on account of his kindness to animals, especially birds, which he tamed so that they flew before him when he walked, or else sat on the trees, and returned to him when he whistled. I regret now that I ever resumed my habit of painting in oil; water-colours are much better suited to an amateur, but as I had never seen any that were good, I was not aware of their beauty. [1D, 82: Now some ladies draw like first rate artists, and hundreds of girls sketch beautifully. Water-colours have an advantage in this respect, that the real light is reflected through the colour from the surface of the paper which gives a brilliancy only to be attained in oil by contrast.]
I also took lessons in mineralogy from Mrs Lowry°, a Jewess, the wife of an eminent line engraver, who had a large collection of minerals, and in the evening Somerville and I amused ourselves with our own, which were not numerous.
Our house in Hanover Square was within a walking distance of many of our friends, and of the Royal Institution in Albemarle Street, where I attended the lectures, and Somerville frequently went with me.46 The discoveries of Sir Humphry Davy° made this a memorable epoch in the annals of chemical science. At this time there was much talk about the celebrated Count Rumford’s8 steam kitchen,47 by which food was to be cooked at a very small expense of fuel. It was adopted by several people, and among others by Naldi°, the opera singer, who invited some friends to dine the first day it was to be used. Before dinner they all went to see the new invention, but while Naldi was explaining its structure, it exploded and killed him on the spot. By this sad accident his daughter, a pretty girl and a good singer, was left destitute. A numerously-attended concert was given for her benefit, at which Somerville and I were present. She was soon after engaged to sing in Paris, but ultimately married the Comte de Sparre, a French gentleman, and left the stage.
When MM. Arago° and Biot came to England to continue the French arc of the meridian through Great Britain, they were warmly received by the scientific men in London, and we were always invited to meet them by those whom we knew. They had been told of my turn for science, and that I had read the works of Laplace. Biot expressed his surprise at my youth.
One summer Somerville proposed to make a tour in Switzerland, so we set off, and on arriving at Chantilly we were told that we might see the château upon giving our cards to the doorkeeper. On reading our name, Mademoiselle de Rohan came to meet us, saying that she had been at school in England with a sister of Lord Somerville’s, and was glad to see any of the family. She presented us to the Prince de Condé°, a fine-looking old man, who received us very courteously, and sent the lord-in-waiting to show us the grounds, and especially the stables, the only part of the castle left in its regal magnificence after the Revolution. The Prince and the gentleman who accompanied us wore a gaudy uniform like a livery, which we were told was the Chantilly uniform, and that at each palace belonging to the Prince there was a different uniform worn by him and his court.
[1D, 83–84: At Chantilly I bought a very handsome black lace dress which I wore over white or rose coloured satin. I could afford to buy good things, for variety was not the fashion as it is now; but I was never extravagant. I must confess that I was fond of dress and had such good taste that my cousins and companions copied my style of dress so closely that I was sometimes provoked.]
At Paris we were received with the kindest hospitality by M. and Madame Arago. I liked her much, she was so gentle and ladylike; he was tall and good-looking, with an animated countenance and black eyes. His character was noble, generous, and singularly energetic; his manners lively and even gay. He was a man of very general information, and, from his excitable temperament, he entered as ardently into the politics and passing events of the time as into science, in which few had more extensive knowledge. On this account I thought his conversation more brilliant than that of any of the French savants with whom I was acquainted. They were living at the Observatory, and M. Arago showed me all the instruments of that magnificent establishment in the minutest detail, which was highly interesting at the time, and proved more useful to me than I was aware of. M. Arago made us acquainted with the Marquis de Laplace, and the Marquise, who was quite an élégante. The Marquis was not tall, but thin, upright, and rather formal. He was distinguished in his manners, and I thought there was a little of the courtier in them, perhaps from having been so much at the court of the Emperor Napoleon, who had the highest regard for him. Though incomparably superior to Arago in mathematics and astronomical science, he was inferior to him in general acquirements, so that his conversation was less varied and popular. We were invited to go early and spend a day with them at Arcœuil, where they had a country house. M. Arago had told M. de Laplace that I had read the Mécanique Céleste, so we had a great deal of conversation about astronomy and the calculus, and he gave me a copy of his Système du Monde with his inscription, which pleased me exceedingly. I spoke French very badly, but I was less at a loss on scientific subjects, because almost all my books on science were in French. The party at dinner consisted of MM. Biot, Arago, Bouvard°, and Poisson. I sat next M. de Laplace, who was exceedingly kind and attentive. In such an assemblage of philosophers I expected a very grave and learned conversation. But not at all! Everyone talked in a gay, animated, and loud key, especially M. Poisson, who had all the vivacity of a Frenchman. Madame Biot, from whom we received the greatest attention, made a party on purpose, as she said, to show us, ‘les personnes distinguées.’ Madame Biot was a welleducated woman, and had made a translation from the German of a work, which was published under the name of her husband. The dinner was very good, and Madame Biot was at great pains in placing every one. Those present were Monsieur and Madame Arago, Monsieur and Madame Poisson, who had only been married the day before, and Baron Humboldt°. The conversation was lively and entertaining.
The consulate and empire of the first Napoleon was the most brilliant period of physical astronomy in France. Lagrange, who proved the stability of the solar system, Laplace, Biot, Arago, Bouvard, and afterwards Poinsot, formed a perfect constellation of undying names; yet the French had been for many years inferior to the English in practical astronomy. The observations made at Greenwich by Bradley°, Maskelyne°, and Pond°, have been so admirably continued under the direction of the present Astronomer Royal, Mr Airy°, the first practical astronomer in Europe, that they have furnished data for calculating the astronomical tables both in France and England.
The theatre was at this time very brilliant in Paris. We saw Talma°, who was considered to be the first tragedian of the age in the character of Tancrède. I admired the skill with which he overcame the disagreeable effect which the rhyme of the French tragedies has always had on me. Notwithstanding his personal advantages, I thought him a great artist, though inferior to John Kemble. I am afraid my admiration of Shakespeare, my want of sympathy with the artificial style of French tragedy, and perhaps my youthful remembrance of our great tragedian Mrs Siddons, made me unjust to Mademoiselle Duchênois°, who, although ugly, was certainly an excellent actress and a favourite of the public. I was so fond of the theatre that I enjoyed comedy quite as much as tragedy, and was delighted with Mademoiselle Mars°, whom we saw in Tartuffe. Some years later I saw her again, when, although an old woman, she still appeared handsome and young upon the stage, and was as graceful and lively as ever.
Soon after our dinner party at Arcœuil, we went to pay a morning visit to Madame de Laplace. It was late in the day; but she received us in bed elegantly dressed. I think the curtains were of muslin with some gold ornaments, and the coverlet was of rich silk and gold. It was the first time that I had ever seen a lady receive in that manner. Madame de Laplace was lively and agreeable; I liked her very much.
We spent a most entertaining day with M. and Madame Cuvier° at the Jardin des Plantes,48 and saw the Museum, and everything in that celebrated establishment. On returning to the house, we found several people had come to spend the evening, and the conversation was carried on with a good deal of spirit; the Countess Albrizzi°, a Venetian lady, of high acquirements, joined in it with considerable talent and animation. Cuvier had a very remarkable countenance, not handsome, but agreeable, and his manner was pleasing and modest, and his conversation very interesting. Madame de Staël° having died lately, was much discussed. She was much praised for her good-nature, and for the brilliancy of her conversation. They agreed, that the energy of her character, not old age, had worn her out. Cuvier said, the force of her imagination misled her judgment, and made her see things in a light different from all the world. As a proof of this, he mentioned that she makes Corinne lean on a marble lion which is on a tomb in St Peter’s, at Rome, more than twenty feet high.49 Education was very much discussed. Cuvier said, that when he was sent to inspect the schools at Bordeaux and Marseilles, he found very few of the scholars who could perform a simple calculation in arithmetic; as to science, history, or literature, they were unknown, and the names of the most celebrated French philosophers, famed in other countries, were utterly unknown to those who lived in the provinces. M. Biot had written home, that he had found in Aberdeen not one alone, but many, who perfectly understood the object of his journey, and were competent to converse with him on the subject. Cuvier said such a circumstance constituted one of the striking differences between France and England; for in France science was highly cultivated, but confined to the capital. It was at M. Cuvier’s that I first met Mr Pentland°, who made a series of physical and geological observations on the Andes of Peru. I was residing in Italy when I published my Physical Geography, and Mr Pentland kindly undertook to carry the book through the press for me. From that time he has been a steady friend, ever ready to get me information, books, or anything I wanted. We became acquainted also with M. Gay-Lussac°, who lived in the Jardin des Plantes, and with Baron Larrey°, who had been at the head of the medical department of the army in Egypt under the first Napoleon.
At Paris I equipped myself in proper dresses, and we proceeded by Fontainebleau to Geneva, where we found Dr Marcet°, with whom my husband had already been acquainted in London. I, for the first time, met Mrs Marcet°, with whom I have ever lived on terms of affectionate friendship. So many books have now been published for young people, that no one at this time can duly estimate the importance of Mrs Marcet’s scientific works. To them is partly owing that higher intellectual education now beginning to prevail among the better classes in Britain. They produced a great sensation, and went through many editions. Her Conversations on Chemistry, first opened out to Faraday’s8 mind that field of science in which he became so illustrious, and at the height of his fame he always mentioned Mrs Marcet with deep reverence.
Through these kind friends we became acquainted with Professors De Candolle°, Prévost°, and De la Rive°. Other distinguished men were also presented to us; among these was Mr Sismondi°, author of the History of the Italian Republics’. Madame Sismondi was a Miss Allen, of a family with whom we were very intimate.
[Some time after her return to England, my mother, desirous of continuing the study of botany, in which she had already attained considerable proficiency, wrote to M. De Candolle, asking his advice, and he sent her the following reply:—]
LETTER FROM M. DE CANDOLLE TO
MRS SOMERVILLE
LONDRES, 5 Juin, 1819
MADAME,
Vous avez passé les premières difficultés de l’étude des plantes et vous me faites l’honneur de me consulter sur les moyens d’aller en avant; connaissant votre goû t et votre talent pour les sciences les plus relevées je ne craindrai point de vous engager à sortir de la Botanique élémentaire et à vous élever aux considérations et aux études qui en font une science susceptible d’idées générales, d’applications aux choses utiles et de liaison avec les autres branches des connaissances humaines. Pour cela il faut étudier non plus seulement la nomenclature et l’échafaudage z qui la soutient, mais les rapports des plantes entre elles et avec les élémens extérieures, ou en d’autres termes, la classification naturelle et la Physiologie.
Pour l’un et l’autre de ces branches de la science il est nécessaire en premier lieu de se familiariser avec la structure des plantes considérée dans leur caractère exacte. Vous trouverez un précis abrégé de ces caractères dans le 1er vol. de la Flore française; vous le trouverez plus développé et accom-pagné de planches dans les Elémens de Botanique de Michel. Quant à la structure du fruit qui est un des points les plus difficiles et les plus importans, vous allez avoir un bon ouvrage traduit et augmenté par un de vos jeunes et habiles compa-triotes, Mr. Lindley – c’est l’analyse du fruit de M. Richard. La traduction vaudra mieux que l’original. Outre ces lectures, ce qui vous apprendra surtout la structure des plantes, c’est de les analyser et de les décrire vous-même d’après les termes techniques; ce travail deviendrait pénible et inutile à faire sur un grand nombre de plantes, et il vaut mieux ne le faire que sur un très petit nombre d’espèces choisies dans des classes très distinctes. Quelques descriptions faites aussi complètes qu’il vous sera possible vous apprendra plus que tous les livres.
Dès que vous connaîtrez bien les organes et concurremment avec cette étude vous devrez chercher à prendre une idée de la classification naturelle. Je crains de vous paraître présomp-tueux en vous engageant à lire d’abord sous ce point de vue ma Théorie élémentaire. Après ces études on à peu près en même temps pour profiter de la saison, vous ferez bien de rapporter aux ordres naturels toutes les plantes que vous aurez recueil-lies. La lecture des caractères des familles faites la plante à la main et l’acte de ranger vos plantes en familles vous feront connaître par théorie et par pratique ces groupes naturels. Je vous engage dans cette étude, surtout en le commencement, à ne donner que peu d’attention au système général qui lie les familles, mais beaucoup à la connaissance de la physionomie qui est propre à chacune d’elles. Sous ce point de vue vous pourrez trouver quelque intérêt à lire – 1° les Tableaux de la Nature de M. de Humboldt; 2° mon essai sur les propriétés des plantes comparées avec leurs formes extérieures; 38 les remarques sur la géographie botanique de la Nouvelle Hol-lande et de l’Afrique, insérés par M. Robt. Brown° à la fin du voyage de Flinders8 et de l’expedition au Congo.
Quant à l’étude de la Physiologie ou de la connaissance des végétaux considérés comme êtres vivans, je vous engage à lire les ouvrages dans l’ordre suivant: Philibert, Elémens de Bot. et de Phys., 3 vols.; la 2de partie des principes élémentaires de la Bot. de la Flore française. Vous trouverez la partie anatomique dans l’ouvrage de Mirbel; la partie chimique dans les recherches chimiques sur la Veget. de T. de Saussure; la partie statique dans la statique des végétaux de Hales, &c. &c. Mais je vous engage surtout à voir par vous-même les plantes à tous leurs ages, à suivre leur végétation, à les décrire en détail, en un mot à vivre avec elles plus qu’avec les livres.
Je désire, madame, que ces conseils puissent vous engager à suivre l’étude des plantes sous cette direction qui je crois en relève beaucoup l’importance et l’intérêt. Je m’estimerai heureux si en vous l’indiquant je puis concourir à vos succès futures et à vous initier dans une étude que j’ai toujours regardé comme une de celles qui peut le plus contribuer au bonheur journalier.
Je vous prie d’agréer mes hommages empressés.
DE CANDOLLE
We had made the ordinary short tour through Switzerland, and had arrived at Lausanne on our way home, when I was taken ill with a severe fever which detained us there for many weeks. I shall never forget the kindness I received from two Miss Barclays°, Quaker ladies, and a Miss Fotheringham, who, on hearing of my illness, came and sat up alternate nights with me, as if I had been their sister. [1D, 91: One day while still very weak, etc. I was unconsciously singing in a low feeble voice ‘Angels ever bright and fair’ when Somerville came into the room thinking I was delirious, ‘Oh no,’ I said, ‘I was only thinking of Handel’s music and Mrs Kater’s sweet voice.’ I recovered very slowly, and was annoyed at having my hair cut off, but enough was left in front to make flat curls, then the mode.]
The winter was now fast approaching, and Somerville thought that in my weak state a warm climate was necessary; so we arranged with our friends, the Miss Barclays, to pass the Simplon together. We parted company at Milan, but we renewed our friendship in London.
[1D, 91: We had a letter of introduction from a Milanese lady who happened to be out of town but she lent us the key of her opera box. The servant who brought the key asked if I wished the lamp to be lighted, I said yes not in the least aware that it was a signal that the lady received her male friends, so as I knew nobody, nobody came.]
We went to Monza, and saw the iron crown;50 and there I found the Magnolia grandiflora, which hitherto I had only known as a greenhouse plant, rising almost into a forest tree.
At Venice we renewed our acquaintance with the Countess Albrizzi, who received every evening. It was at these receptions that we saw Lord Byron°, but he would not make the acquaintance of any English people at that time. When he came into the room I did not perceive his lameness, and thought him strikingly like my brother Henry, who was remarkably handsome. I said to Somerville, ‘Is Lord Byron like anyone you know?’ ‘Your brother Henry, decidedly.’ Lord Broughton, then Sir John Cam Hobhouse°, was also present.
At Florence, I was presented to the Countess of Albany°, widow of Prince Charles Edward Stuart the Pretender. She was then supposed to be married to Alfieri° the poet, and had a kind of state reception every evening. I did not like her, and never went again. Her manner was proud and insolent. ‘So you don’t speak Italian; you must have had a very bad education, for Miss Clephane Maclane8 there [who was close by] speaks both French and Italian perfectly.’ So saying, she turned away, and never addressed another word to me. That evening I recognised in Countess Moretti my old friend Agnes Bonar. Moretti was of good family; but, having been banished from home for political opinions, he taught the guitar in London for bread, and an attachment was formed between him and his pupil. After the murder of her parents, they were both persecuted with the most unrelenting cruelty by her brother. They escaped to Milan where they were married.
I was still a young woman; but I thought myself too old to learn to speak a foreign language, consequently I did not try. I spoke French badly; and now, after several years’ residence in Italy, although I can carry on a conversation fluently in Italian, I do not speak it well. [1D, 94–95: I never attempted to write either French or Italian and being an almost uneducated Scotch woman I had much trouble in writing English, especially at first, and never was aware of any errors till I saw them printed in my proof sheets; especially the use of ‘shall’ and ‘will’, ‘could’ and ‘should’, ‘these’ and ‘those’; yet I was complemented on the English in some of my books by the Rev. Sydney Smith one of the best writers of the day. As for spelling I am very bad at it, even now, that I am writing in extreme old age. On comparing notes with my dear old friend, Joanna Baillie° the poetess, who agreed with me in points much more important than that of spelling, we were not a little amused to find that in writing a letter we made use of words we could spell, not those we should have used in conversation. In writing for the press I generally consulted a dictionary, sometimes when lazy I trust to the compositor for spelling, always for pointing. But my MSS are well written and easy to read, but my hand shakes sadly now, especially when I first begin to write in the morning.]
[When my mother first went abroad, she had no fluency in talking French, although she was well acquainted with the literature. To show how, at every period of her life, she missed no opportunity of acquiring information or improvement, I may mention that many years after, when we were spending a summer in Siena, where the language is spoken with great purity and elegance, she engaged a lady to converse in Italian with her for a couple of hours daily. By this means she very soon became perfectly familiar with the language, and could keep up conversation in Italian without difficulty. She never cared to write in any language but English. Her style has been reckoned particularly clear and good, and she was complimented on it by various competent judges, although she herself was always diffident about her writings, saying she was only a self-taught, uneducated Scotchwoman, and feared to use Scotch idioms inadvertently. In speaking she had a very decided but pleasant Scotch accent, and when aroused and excited, would often unconsciously use not only native idioms, but quaint old Scotch words. Her voice was soft and low, and her manner earnest.]
[1D, 96: During our tour we had seen the pictures in the Louvre, Brera,51 at Venice, Parma, and now those in the Uffizi and Pitti palace at Florence. I was bewildered by the number of pictures I had seen in such rapid succession, and being totally ignorant of the highest branch of art, my admiration of them was merely an instinctive feeling of their beauty. Ignorant as I was I could not fail to perceive a vast difference in the character and style of the pictures, but even now after having lived so many years in Italy, were I called upon to name the artists, I should make many mistakes. It has required long cultivation to make me appreciate the exquisite sentiment expressed in frescoes and pre-Raphaelite pictures.]
On our way to Rome, where we spent the winter of 1817, it was startling to see the fine church of Santa Maria degli Angeli, below Assisi, cut in two; half of the church and half of the dome above it were still entire; the rest had been thrown down by the earthquake which had destroyed the neighbouring town of Foligno,52 and committed such ravages in this part of Umbria. [1D, 97: We travelled slowly enjoying the scenery so we had time to collect specimens of a flora entirely new to me and I stopped the carriage frequently to gather flowers a pleasure we are now deprived of by railway travelling. The journey would have been delightful but for the dirtiness of the hotels which was a real distress to us nor was it less at Rome.]
At that time I might have been pardoned if I had described St Peter’s, the Vatican, and the innumerable treasures of art and antiquity at Rome; but now that they are so well known it would be ridiculous and superfluous. Here I gained a little more knowledge about pictures; but I preferred sculpture, partly from the noble specimens of Greek art I saw in Paris and Rome, and partly because I was such an enthusiast about the language and everything belonging to ancient Greece. During this journey I was highly gratified, for we made the acquaintance of Thorwaldsen8 and Canova°. Canova was gentle and amiable, with a beautiful countenance, and was an artist of great reputation. Thorwaldsen had a noble and striking appearance, and had more power and originality than Canova. His bas-reliefs were greatly admired. I saw the one he made of Night in the house of an English lady, who had a talent for modelling, and was said to be attached to him. We were presented to Pope Pius the Seventh°; a handsome, gentlemanly, and amiable old man. He received us in a summer-house in the garden of the Vatican. He was sitting on a sofa, and made me sit beside him. His manners were simple and very gracious; he spoke freely of what he had suffered in France. He said, ‘God forbid that he should bear ill-will to any one; but the journey and the cold were trying to an old man, and he was glad to return to a warm climate and to his own country.’ When we took leave, he said to me, ‘Though a Protestant, you will be none the worse for an old man’s blessing.’ Pius the Seventh was loved and respected; the people knelt to him as he passed. Many years afterwards we were presented to Gregory the Sixteenth°, a very common-looking man, forming a great contrast to Pius the Seventh.
I heard more good music during this first visit to Rome than I ever did after; for besides that usual in St Peter’s, there was an Academia every week, where Marcello’s° Psalms were sung in concert by a number of male voices, besides other concerts, private and public. We did not make the acquaintance of any of the Roman families at this time; but we saw Pauline Borghese, sister of the Emperor Napoleon, so celebrated for her beauty, walking on the Pincio every afternoon. Our great geologist, Sir Roderick Murchison°, with his wife, were among the English residents at Rome. At that time he hardly knew one stone from another. He had been an officer in the Dragoons, an excellent horseman, and a keen fox-hunter. Lady Murchison, – an amiable and accomplished woman, with solid acquirements which few ladies at that time possessed – had taken to the study of geology; and soon after her husband began that career which has rendered him the first geologist of our country. It was then that a friendship began between them and us, which will only end with life. Mrs Fairfax, of Gilling Castle, and her two handsome daughters were also at Rome. She was my namesake – Mary Fairfax – and my valued friend till her death. Now, alas! many of these friends are gone.
There were such troops of brigands in the Papal States, that it was considered unsafe to go outside the gates of Rome. They carried off people to the mountains, and kept them till ransomed; sometimes even mutilated them, as they do at the present day in the kingdom of Naples. Lucien Bonaparte8 made a narrow escape from being carried off from his villa, Villa Ruffinella, near Frascati. When it could be proved that brigands had committed murder, they were confined in prisons in the Maremma, at Campo Morto, where fever prevails, and where they were supposed to die of malaria. I saw Gasperone, the chief of a famous band, in a prison at Civita Vecchia; he was said to be a relative of Cardinal Antonelli°, both coming from the brigand village of Sonnino, in the Volscian mountains. In going to Naples our friends advised us to take a guard of soldiers; but these were suspected of being as bad, and in league with the brigands. So we travelled post without them; and though I foolishly insisted on going round by the ruins of ancient Capua, which was considered very unsafe, we arrived at Naples without any encounter. Here we met with the son and daughter of Mr Smith°, of Norwich, a celebrated leader in the anti-slavery question. This was a bond of interest between his family and me; for when I was a girl I took the anti-slavery cause so warmly to heart that I would not take sugar in my tea, or indeed taste anything with sugar in it. I was not singular in this for my cousins and many of my acquaintances came to the same resolution. How long we kept it I do not remember. Patty Smith and I became great friends, and I knew her sisters; but only remember her niece Florence Nightingale° as a very little child. My friend Patty was liberal in her opinions, witty, original, an excellent horsewoman, and drew cleverly; but from bad health she was peculiar in all her habits. She was a good judge of art. Her father had a valuable collection of pictures of the ancient masters; and I learnt much from her with regard to paintings and style in drawing. We went to see everything in Naples and its environs together, and she accompanied Somerville and me in an expedition to Pæstum53, where we made sketches of the temples. At Naples we bought a beautiful cork model of the Temple of Neptune, which was placed on our mineral cabinet on our return to London. A lady who came to pay me a morning visit asked Somerville what it was; and when he told her, she said, ‘How dreadful it is to think that all the people who worshipped in that temple are in eternal misery, because they did not believe in our Saviour.’ Somerville asked, ‘How could they believe in Christ when He was not born till many centuries after?’ I am sure she thought it was all the same.
There had been an eruption of Vesuvius just before our arrival at Naples, and it was still smoking very much; however, we ascended it, and walked round the crater, running and holding a handkerchief to our nose as we passed through the smoke, when the wind blew it to our side. The crater was just like an empty funnel, wide at the mouth, and narrowing to a throat. The lava was hard enough to bear us; but there were numerous fumeroles, or red-hot chasms, in it, which we could look into. Somerville bought a number of crystals from the guides, and went repeatedly to Portici afterwards to complete our collection of volcanic minerals.
They were excavating busily at Pompeii; at that time, and in one of our many excursions there Somerville bought from one of the workmen a bronze statuette of Minerva, and a very fine rosso antico Terminus, which we contrived to smuggle into Naples; and it now forms part of a small but excellent collection of antiques which I still possess. The excavations at that period were conducted with little regularity or direction, and the guides were able to carry on a contraband trade as mentioned. Since the annexation of the Neapolitan provinces to the kingdom of Italy, the Cavaliere Fiorelli° has organised the system of excavations in the most masterly manner, and has made many interesting discoveries. About one-third of the town has been excavated since it was discovered till the present day.
[1D, 104–5: During the whole of this journey I bitterly regretted having devoted my life exclusively to science and the dead instead of the living languages. Although my husband spoke for me, I felt myself an incumbrance in foreign society consequently I spoke little. I should have been in high estimation among the Persians who say of their women, ‘To speak little is silver, not to speak at all is gold.’ I am now deaf also and unable to join in the general conversation even when in my native tongue but I thank God that my sight and intelligence are still unimpaired. I had reason lately to be glad I was deaf for there had been a violent thunderstorm during the night, I heard it not, and slept soundly, but I am not so much afraid as I used to be.]
In passing through Bologna, we became acquainted with the celebrated Mezzofanti°, afterwards Cardinal. He was a quiet-looking priest; we could not see anything in his countenance that indicated talent, nor was his conversation remarkable; yet he told us that he understood fifty-two languages. He left no memoir at his death; nor did he ever trace any connection between these languages; it was merely an astonishing power, which led to nothing, like that of a young American I lately heard of, who could play eleven games at chess at the same time, without looking at any chess-board.
44 Watt and Boulton’s factory at Soho, Birmingham had been a tourist attraction for many years. Samuel Smiles, Lives of Boulton and Watt (1865) quotes Matthew Boulton, writing in 1767: ‘I had lords and ladies to wait on yesterday, I have French and Spaniards to-day, and to-morrow I shall have Germans, Russians and Norwegians’ (p.176). In 1772 he is saying: ‘Scarcely a day passes without a visit from some distinguished personage’ (p.180). Elizabeth Patterson thinks that Mary Somerville must have made this visit with her first husband since Matthew Boulton died in 1809 (EP, p.43) but since Boulton’s son took over from his father, Mary Somerville’s statement probably refers to him.
45 The Mont Cenis Railway Tunnel which crosses the Franco-Italian frontier was begun in 1857 and finished in 1871. This, the first great trans-Alpine tunnel reaches a summit level of 1295 m. It had an immediate effect on world communications, speeding up the transmission of mail from the East to northern Europe by several days. It was originally 12.2 km long, was realigned in 1881 and again after WWII: it is now 12.8 km.
46 The Royal Institution, one of the first research centres for science, was founded by Benjamin Thompson, Count Rumford (q.v.) in 1799 and was given a royal charter in 1800. Sir Humphry Davy (q.v.), Michael Faraday (q.v.) and Bragg worked there. Among the famous lectures still given there are the Friday evening discourses for members and the Christmas lectures for children.
47 Count Rumford’s (q.v.) steam kitchen was an early and unfortunate form of pressure cooker.
48 In spite of its name, Jardin des Plantes in Paris was also the zoological gardens. The museum is the National Museum of Natural History.
49 I cannot find this episode in the St Peter’s visit in Corinne. When Corinne visits the studio of Canova she sees a ‘wonderful statue intended for a tomb. It represented the spirit of grief, leaning against a lion, the symbol of strength’ (Corinne, World’s Classics edition, translated Sylvia Raphael, p.143).
50 Monza is a city of great age in Lombardy. Enclosed in the altar of the 13th–14th-century cathedral is the Iron Crown of Lombard used in the coronation of the Holy Roman Emperors since 1311. It contains a strip of iron said to have been hammered from one of the nails used at the Crucifixion.
51 The picture gallery of the Palazzo di Brera is in Milan.
52 The church of Santa Maria degli Angeli, which lies below the hill town of Assisi was designed in 1569 and finished by 1679. The earthquake which necessitated its rebuilding was, however, in 1832, not earlier as is suggested here. The first draft of the autobiography refers to the church mistakenly as ‘St Franceso d’Assisi’ [1D, 195] but does put the incident at a later stage after the Somervilles had begun to live permanently in Italy: presumably the corrected passage has been misplaced in the published text.
53 Paestum is the Roman name for Posidonia, founded c.600 bc, named after the Greek god, Poseidon. The remains of three Doric temples still stand there. The eruption of Vesuvius in 79 ad engulfed both Herculaneum and Pompeii; the latter was first excavated in 1748.