Personal Recollections, from Early Life to Old Age, of Mary Somerville Part 18

Incoraggiata dalla sua bonta, mi onoro segnarmi amica affezionatissima CATERINA BON-BRENZONI.

The "Carme" spoken of in the above letter form a long poem on modern astronomy, ent.i.tled "I Cieli," (published by Vallardi. Milan: 1853).

The opening lines contain the following address to Mrs.

Somerville,--doubtless a genuine description of the author's feelings on first meeting the simple-mannered lady whose intellectual greatness she had long learned to appreciate:--

Donna, quel giorno ch' io ti vidi in prima, Dimmi, hai Tu scorto sul mio volto i segni Dell' anima commossa?--Hai Tu veduto Come trepida innanzi io ti venia, E come reverenza e maraviglia Tenean sospesa sull' indocil labbro La parola mal certa?--Ah! dimmi, hai scorto Come fur vinte dall' affetto allora Che t'udii favellar soave e piana, Coll' angelica voce e l'umiltade, Che a' suoi piu cari sapenza insegna?-- Questa, io dicea tra me, questa e Colei, Di che le mille volte udito ho il nome Venerato suonar tra i piu famosi?

Questa e Colei che negli eterei spazj Segue il cammin degli astri, e ne misura Peso, moto, distanza, orbita e luce?

Another record of our visit to Cola is in a letter of my mother to my brother.

MRS. SOMERVILLE TO W. GREIG, ESQ.

TURIN, _4th Dec., 1849_.

MY DEAREST WORONZOW,

We arrived here all well the day before yesterday, after a fair but bitterly cold journey, bright sunshine and keen frost, and to-day we have a fall of snow.... It was a great disappointment not finding letters here, and I fear many have been lost on both sides, though we took care not to touch on political events, as all letters are opened by the Austrian police in Lombardy. We spent five weeks with our friends the Miniscalchis very agreeably, and received every mark of kindness and hospitality. They only live at Verona during the winter, and we found them in their country house at Cola situated on a height overlooking the Lago di Garda, with the snowy Alps on the opposite side of the lake. The view from their grounds is so fine that I was tempted to paint once more. They took us to see all the places in the neighbourhood; often a sad sight, from having been the seat of war and siege. The villages are burnt and the churches in ruin. But the people are repairing the mischief as fast as possible, and the fields are already well cultivated. The Count is a man of great learning and is occupied in the comparison of languages, especially the Eastern; he knows twenty-four and speaks Arabic as fluently as Italian. He is in the habit of speaking both Arabic and Chaldee every day, as there is a most learned Chaldean priest living with them, whose conversation gave me great pleasure and much information. The Count has moreover a black servant who speaks these languages, having been bought by the Count during his long residence in the East, and is now treated like one of the family. I obtained much information which will be useful in my next edition of the Physical Geography....

Your affectionate mother, MARY SOMERVILLE.

[After my mother's death, our old friend Count Miniscalchi made a beautiful and touching "eloge" on her at a meeting of the Royal Italian Geographical Society, to a numerous audience a.s.sembled in the great hall of the Collegio Romano at Rome.

My mother was an honorary member of this Society, besides which the first gold medal granted by them was voted by acclamation to her.

Her Recollections continue as follows:--]

From Cola we went to Turin, where I became personally acquainted with Baron Plana, Director of the Observatory. He had married a niece of the ill.u.s.trious mathematician La Grange, who proved the stability of the solar system. Plana, himself, was a very great a.n.a.lyst; his volume on the Lunar Perturbations is a work of enormous labour. He gave me a copy of it and of all his works; for I continued to have friendly intercourse with him as long as he lived. As soon as he heard of our arrival, he came to take us out to drive. I never shall forget the beauty of the Alps, and the broad valley of the Po and Dora, deeply covered with snow, and sparkling in bright sunshine. Another day the Baron took us to a church, from the cupola of which a very long pendulum was swinging, that we might see the rotation of the earth visibly proved by its action on the pendulum, according to M. Foucault's experiment. He devoted his time to get us established, and we found a handsome apartment in Casa Cavour, and became acquainted with both the brothers to whom it belonged. Count Camillo Cavour, then Minister of the Interior, was the only great statesman Italy ever produced in modern times. His premature death is deplorably felt at the present day. He was a real genius, and the most masterly act of his administration was that of sending an army to act in concert with the French and English in the Crimean war. By it he at once gave Italy the rank of an independent European power, which was the first step towards Italian unity. He was delightful and cheerful in society, and extremely beloved by his family and friends.

In spring we hired a villa on the Colline above Turin. The house was in a garden, with a terrace, whence the ground sank rapidly to the plain; low hills, clothed with chestnut forests, abounding in lilies of the valley, surrounded us behind. The summer had been stormy, and one evening we walked on the terrace to look at the lightning, which was very fine, illuminating the chain of Alps. By-and-by it ceased, and the darkness was intense; but we continued to walk, when, to our surprise, a pale bluish light rose in the Val di Susa, which gradually spread along the summit of the Alps, and the tops of the hills behind our house; then a column of the same pale blue light, actually within our reach, came curling up from the slope close to the terrace, exactly as if wet weeds had been burning. In about ten minutes the whole vanished; but in less than a quarter of an hour the phenomena were repeated exactly as described, and were followed by a dark night and torrents of rain. It was a very unusual instance of what is known as electric glow; that is, electricity without tension.

On our road to Genoa, we went to see some kind Piedmontese friends, who have a chateau in the Monferrat, not many miles from Asti, where we left the railroad. We had not gone many miles when the carriage we had hired was upset, and, although n.o.body had broken bones, I got so severe a blow on my forehead that I was confined to bed for nearly a month, and my face was black and blue for a much longer time. Nothing could equal the unwearied kindness of our friends during my illness.

When I was able to travel, we went to Genoa for the winter, and lived on the second floor of a large house on the Acqua Sola, and overlooking the sea. Here first began our friendship with the Marchesa Teresa Doria, whose maiden name was Durazzo; in her youth one of the handsomest women in Genoa, a lady distinguished for her generous character and cultivated mind, and who fearlessly avowed her opinions at a time when it was a kind of disgrace to be called a Liberal. Her youngest son, Giacomo, has devoted his life to the study of natural history, and his mother used all her influence to encourage and help him in a pursuit so unusual amongst people of rank in this country. Later, he travelled in Persia for two years, to make collections, and since then resided for a long time in Borneo, and is now arranging a museum in his native city. The Marchesa has always been a warm and devoted friend to me and mine.

It was here that we got our dear old parrot Lory, who is still alive and merry.

Our next move was to Florence, where we already knew many people. We had a lease of a house in Via del Mandorlo, which had a small garden and a balcony, where we often sat and received in the warm summer evenings. My daughters had adorned it and the garden with rare creepers, shrubs, and flowers.

We had a visit from our friend Gibson, as he pa.s.sed through Florence on his way to Switzerland. He told us the history of his early life, as given in his biography, and much that is not mentioned there. He was devotedly attached to the Queen, and spoke of her in his simple manner as a charming lady.

Miss Hosmer was travelling with Gibson, an American young lady, who was his pupil, and of whose works he was very proud. He looked upon her as if she had been his daughter, and she took care of him; for he was careless and forgetful when travelling. I have the sincerest pleasure in expressing my admiration for Miss Hosmer, who has proved by her works that our s.e.x possesses both genius and originality in the highest branches of art.

It was at Florence that I first met my dear friend and constant correspondent, Frances Power Cobbe. She is the cleverest and most agreeable woman I ever met with, and one of the best. There is a distant connection between us, as one of her ancestors married a niece of Lord Fairfax, the Parliamentary general, many of whose letters are in the possession of her family. A German professor of physiology at Florence roused public indignation by his barbarous vivisections, and there was a canva.s.s for a Memorial against this cruel practice. Miss Cobbe took a leading part in this movement, and I heartily joined, and wrote to all my acquaintances, requesting their votes; among others, to a certain Marchese, who had published something on agriculture. He refused his vote, saying, "Perhaps I was not aware that the present state of science was one of induction." Then he went on explaining to me what "induction"

meant, &c., &c., which amused me not a little. It made my family very indignant, as they thought it eminently presumptuous, addressed to me by a man who, though a good patriot and agriculturist, knew nothing whatever about science, past or present. A good deal of political party spirit was brought into play in this instance, as is too often the case here. It is not complimentary to the state of civilisation in Italy, that in Russia and Poland, both of them very far behind her in many respects, there should exist societies for the prevention of cruelty to animals, to which all the most distinguished people have given their names.

[I rejoice to say that this stain on Italian civilisation is now wiped away. My mother just lived to hail the formation of the Societa Protettrice degli Animali.--ED.]

In summer we sometimes made excursions to avoid the heat of Florence.

One year we went to Valombrosa and the convents of La Vernia, and Camaldoli, which are now suppressed. We travelled on mules or ponies, as the mountain paths are impracticable to carriages. I was disappointed in Valombrosa itself, but the road to it is beautiful. La Vernia is highly picturesque, there we remained two days, which I spent in drawing. The trees round the convent formed a striking contrast to the arid cliffs we had pa.s.sed on the road. The monks were naturally delighted to see strangers. They belonged to the order of St. Francis, and each in his turn wandered over the country begging and living on the industry of others. We did not pay for our food and lodging, but left much more than an equivalent in the poor-box. Somerville slept in the convent, and we ladies were lodged in the so-called _Foresteria_ outside; but even Somerville was not admitted into the _clausura_ at Camaldoli, for the monks make a vow of perpetual silence and solitude. Each had his little separate hut and garden, and some distance above the convent, on the slopes of the Apennines, they had an establishment called the _Eremo_, for those who sought for even greater solitude. The people told us that in winter, when deep snow covers the whole place, wolves are often seen prowling about. Not far from the Eremo there is a place from whence both the Mediterranean and the Adriatic can be seen.

We occasionally went for sea-bathing to Viareggio, which is built on a flat sandy beach. The loose sand is drifted by the wind into low hillocks, and bound together by coa.r.s.e gra.s.s thickly coated with silex.

Among this and other plants a lovely white amaryllis, the _Pancratium Maritimum_, with a sweet and powerful perfume, springs up. We often tried to get the bulb, but it lay too deep under the sand. One evening we had gone a long way in search of these flowers, and sat down to rest, though it was beginning to be dark. We had not sat many minutes when we were surrounded by a number of what we supposed to be bats trying to get at the flowers we had gathered, but at length we discovered that they were enormous moths, which followed us home, and actually flew into the room to soar over the flowers and suck the honey with their long probosces. They were beautiful creatures with large red eyes on their wings.

Our life at Florence went on pretty much as usual when all at once cholera broke out of the most virulent kind. Mult.i.tudes fled from Florence; often in vain, for it prevailed all through Tuscany to a great extent. The terrified people were kneeling to the Madonna and making processions, after which it was remarked that the number of cases was invariably increased. The Misericordia went about in their fearful costume, indefatigable in carrying the sick to the hospitals. The devotion of that society was beyond all praise; the young and the old, the artisan and the n.o.bleman, went night and day in detachments carrying aid to the sufferers, not in Florence only, but to Fiesole and the villages round. We never were afraid, but we consulted Professor Zanetti, our medical adviser, whether we should leave the town, which we were unwilling to do, as we thought we should be far from medical a.s.sistance, and he said, "By no means; live as usual, drive out as you have always done, and make not the smallest change." We followed his advice, and drove out every afternoon till near dark, and then pa.s.sed the rest of the evening with those friends who, like ourselves, had remained in town. None of us took the disease except one of our servants, who recovered from instant help being given.

The Marquis of Normanby was British minister at that time, and Lady Normanby and he were always kind and hospitable to us. At her house we became acquainted with Signora Barbieri-Nini, the celebrated opera-singer, who had retired from the stage, and lived with her husband, a Sienese gentleman, in a villa not far from Villa Normanby.

She gave a musical party, to which she invited us. The music, which was entirely artistic, was excellent, the entertainment very handsome, and it was altogether very enjoyable. As we were driving home afterwards, late at night, going down the hill, our carriage ran against one of the dead carts which was carrying those who had died that day to the burying-ground at Trespiano. It was horribly ghastly--one could distinguish the forms of the limbs under the canvas thrown over the heap of dead. The burial of the poor and rich in Italy is in singular contrast; the poor are thrown into the grave without a coffin, the rich are placed in coffins, and in full dress, which, especially in the case of youth and infancy, leaves a pleasant impression. An intimate friend of ours lost an infant, and asked me to go and see it laid out. The coffin, lined with white silk, was on a table, covered with a white cloth, strewed with flowers, and with a row of wax lights on either side. The baby was clothed in a white satin frock, leaving the neck and arms bare; a rose-bud was in each hand, and a wreath of rose-buds surrounded the head, which rested on a pillow. Nothing could be prettier; it was like a sleeping angel.

Pio Nono had lost his popularity before he came to visit the Grand Duke of Tuscany. The people received him respectfully, but without enthusiasm; nevertheless, Florence was illuminated in his honour. The Duomo, Campanile, and the old tower in the Piazza dei Signori were very fine, but the Lung' Arno was beautiful beyond description; the river was full, and reflected the whole with dazzling splendour.

I made the acquaintance of Signore Donati, afterwards celebrated for the discovery of one of the most brilliant comets of this century, whose course and changes I watched with the greatest interest. On one occasion I was accompanied by my valued friend Sir Henry Holland, who had come to Florence during one of his annual journeys. I had much pleasure in seeing him again.

Political parties ran very high in Florence; we sympathised with the Liberals, living on intimate terms with the chief of them. As soon as the probability of war between Piedmont and Austria became known, many young men of every rank, some even of the highest families, hastened to join as volunteers. The most sanguine long hoped that the Grand Duke might remember that he was an Italian prince rather than an Austrian archduke, and would send his troops to join the Italian cause; but his dynasty was doomed, and he blindly chose the losing side. At last the Austrians crossed the Mincio, and the war fairly broke out, France coming to the a.s.sistance of Piedmont. The enthusiasm of the Tuscans could then no longer be restrained, and on the 27th April 1859, crowds of people a.s.sembled on the Piazza dell' Indipendenza, and raised the tri-coloured flag. The government, who, the day before, had warning of what was impending, had sent sealed orders to the forts of Belvedere and del Ba.s.so, which, when opened on the eventful morning, were found to contain orders for the bombardment of the town. This the officers refused to do, after which the troops joined the popular cause. When this order became generally known, as it soon did, it proved the last blow to the dynasty, although the most eminent and respected Liberals used their best efforts during the whole of the 27th to restore harmony between the Grand Duke and the people. They advised his immediate abdication in favour of his son, the Archduke Ferdinand, the proclamation of the Const.i.tution, and of course insisted on the immediate alliance with Piedmont as their princ.i.p.al condition. It was already too late! All was of no avail, and in the evening, whilst we were as usual at the Cascine, the whole Imperial family, accompanied by the Austrian minister, and escorted by several of the Corps Diplomatique, drove round the walls from Palazzo Pitti to Porta San Gallo unmolested amid a silent crowd, and crossing the frontier on the Bologna road, bade farewell for ever to Tuscany. The obnoxious ministers were also permitted to retire unnoticed to their country houses.

Thus ended this bloodless revolution; there was no disorder of any kind, which was due to the young men belonging to the princ.i.p.al families of Florence, such as Corsini, Incontri, Farinola, and others, using their influence with the people to calm and direct them. Indeed, so quiet was everything that my daughters walked about the streets, as did most ladies, to see what was going on; the only visible signs of the revolution throughout the whole day were bands of young men with tri-coloured flags and c.o.c.kades shouting national songs at the top of their voices. As I have said already, we took our usual drive to the Cascine after dinner, and went to the theatre in the evening; the streets were perfectly quiet, and next morning the people were at work as usual. Sir James Scarlett was our minister, and had a reception the evening after these events, where we heard many predictions of evil which never were fulfilled. The least of these was the occupation of Florence by a victorious Austrian army. The Tuscan archdukes precluded all chance of a restoration by joining the Austrian army, and being present at the battle of Solferino. At Florence a provisional government was formed with Bettino Ricasoli at its head; a parliament a.s.sembled three times in the Sala dei Cinquecento, in the Palazzo Vecchio, and voted with unanimity the expulsion of the House of Lorraine, and the annexation of Tuscany to the kingdom of Italy. In the meantime the French and Italian arms were victorious in Lombardy. As, however, it is not my intention to give an historical account of the revolution of 1859, but merely to jot down such circ.u.mstances as came under my own immediate notice, I shall not enter into any particulars regarding the well-known campaign which ended in the cession of Milan and Lombardy to Italy.

We were keenly interested in the alliance between the Emperor Napoleon and the King of Italy, in hopes the Quadrilateral would be taken, and Venice added to the Italian States. We had a map of Northern Italy spread on a table, and from day to day we marked the positions of the different headquarters with coloured-headed pins. I can hardly describe our indignation when all at once peace was signed at Villafranca, and Napoleon received Nice and Savoy in recompense for his aid, which were given up to him without regard to the will of the people. When the peace was announced in Tuscany it caused great consternation and disgust; the people were in the greatest excitement, fearing that those rulers so obnoxious to them might by this treaty be again forced upon them; and it required the firm hand of Ricasoli to calm the people, and induce the King to accept the annexation which had been voted without one dissentient voice.

Baron Ricasoli had naturally many enemies amongst the Codini, or retrograde party. Hand-grenades were thrown against the door of his house, as also at those of other ministers, but without doing harm. One evening my daughters were dressing to go to a ball that was to take place at the Palazzo delle Crocelle, close to us, in a street parallel to ours, when we were startled by a loud explosion. An attempt had been made to throw a sh.e.l.l into the ball-room, which had happily failed. The streets were immediately lined with soldiers, and the ball, which was given by the Ministers, as far as I recollect, took place.

When the war broke out, a large body of French troops, commanded by Prince Jerome Napoleon, came to Florence, and were bivouacked in the Cascine. The people in the streets welcomed them as deliverers from the Austrians, whose occupation of Tuscany, when first we came to reside in Florence, was such a bitter mortification to them, and one of the causes of the unpopularity of the Grand Duke, whom they never forgave for calling in the Austrian troops after 1848. The French camp was a very pretty sight; some of the soldiers playing at games, some mending their clothes, or else cooking. They were not very particular as to what they ate, for one of my daughters saw a soldier skin a rat and put it into his soup-kettle.

We were invited by the Marchesa Lajatico, with whom we were very intimate, to go and see the entry of Victor Emmanuel into Florence from the balcony of the Casa Corsini in the Piazza del Prato, where she resides. The King was received with acclamation: never was anything like the enthusiasm. Flowers were showered down from every window, and the streets were decorated with a taste peculiar to the Italians.

[I think the following extracts from letters written by my mother during the year 1859 and the following, ever memorable in Italian history, may not be unwelcome to the reader. My mother took the keenest interest in all that occurred. Owing to the liberal opinions she had held from her youth, and to which she was ever constant, all her sympathies were with the Italian cause, and she rejoiced at every step which tended to unite all Italy in one kingdom. She lived to see this great revolution accomplished by the entry of Victor Emmanuel into Rome as King of Italy; a consummation believed by most politicians to be a wild dream of poets and hot-headed patriots, but now realised and accepted as a matter of course. My mother had always firm faith in this result, and it was with inexpressible pleasure she watched its completion. Our intimacy with the leading politicians both in Tuscany and Piedmont naturally added to our interest. Ricasoli, Menabrea, Peruzzi, Minghetti, &c., we knew intimately, as well as Camillo Cavour, the greatest statesman Italy ever produced. No one who did not witness it can imagine the grief and consternation his death occasioned, and of which my mother writes in a letter dated June 19th, 1861.]

FROM MRS. SOMERVILLE TO W. GREIG, ESQ.

FLORENCE, _May 5th, 1859_.

MY DEAREST W.,

Your letter of the 28th would have made me laugh heartily were we not annoyed that you should have suffered such uneasiness on our account; the panic in England is ridiculous and most unfounded. The whole affair has been conducted with perfect unanimity and tranquillity, so that there has been no one to fight with. The Austrians are concentrated in Lombardy, and not in Tuscany, nor is there any one thing to disturb the perfect peace and quietness which prevail over the whole country; not a soul thinks of leaving Florence. You do the greatest injustice to the Tuscans. From first to last not a person has been insulted, not a cry raised against anyone; even the obnoxious ministers were allowed to go to their country houses without a word of insult, and troops were sent with the Grand Duke to escort him and his family to the frontier. Martha and Mary went all through the town the morning of the revolution, which was exactly like a common festa, and we found the tranquillity as great when we drove through the streets in the afternoon. The same quiet still prevails, the people are at their usual employments, the theatres and private receptions go on as usual, and the provisional government is excellent. Everyone knew of the revolution long before it took place and the quietness with which it was to be conducted. I am grieved at the tone of English politics; and trust, for the honour of the country and humanity, that we do not intend to make war upon France and Sardinia. It would be a disgrace and everlasting stigma to make a crusade against the oppressed, being ourselves free. The people here have behaved splendidly, and we rejoice that we have been here to witness such n.o.ble conduct. No nation ever made such progress as the Tuscans have done since the year '48. Not a word of republicanism, it has never been named. All they want is a const.i.tutional government, and this they are quietly settling....

FROM MRS. SOMERVILLE TO W. GREIG, ESQ.