Our first settlement was at a pretty villa at Alassio, on the Italian Riviera; and here, in March, 1903, looking over my garden, a mass of bloom, shaded by palms and orange-trees in full bearing, and upon the Mediterranean beyond, I settled down to record these recollections of my life—making excursions now and then into interesting parts of Italy.
As to these later journeys, one, being out of the beaten track, may be worth mentioning. It was an excursion in the islands of Elba and Corsica. Though anything but a devotee of Napoleon, I could not but be interested in that little empire of his on the Italian coast, and especially in the town house, country-seat, and garden where he planned the return to Europe which led to the final catastrophe.
More interesting still was the visit to Corsica and, especially, to Ajaccio. There the traveler stands before the altar where Napoleon's father and mother were married, at the font where he was baptized, in the rooms where he was born, played with his brothers during his boyhood, and developed various scoundrelisms during his young manhood: the furniture and surroundings being as they were when he knew them.
Just around the corner from the house in which the Bonapartes lived was the more stately residence of the more aristocratic family of Pozzo di Borgo. It interested me as the nest in which was reared that early playmate and rival of Napoleon, who afterward became his most virulent, persistent, and successful enemy, who pursued him through his whole career as a hound pursues a wolf, and who at last aided most effectively in bringing him down.
After exhausting the attractions of Ajaccio, we drove up a broad, well-paved avenue, gradually rising and curving until, at a distance of six or seven miles, it ended at the country-seat of this same family of Pozzo di Borgo, far up among the mountains. There, on a plateau commanding an amazing view, and in the midst of a superb park, we found the rural retreat of the family; but, to our surprise, not a castle, not a villa, not like any other building for a similar purpose in Italy or anywhere else in the world, but a Parisian town house, recently erected in the style of the Valois period, with Mansard roof. As we approached it, I was struck by architectural details even more at variance with the surroundings than was the general style of the building: all its exterior decoration presenting the features of a pavilion from the old Tuileries at Paris; and in the garden hard by we found battered and blackened fragments of pilasters, shown by the emblems and ciphers upon them to have come from that part of the Tuileries once inhabited by Napoleon. The family being absent, we were allowed to roam through the house, and there found the statues, paintings, tapestries, books, and papers of Napoleon's arch-enemy, the great Pozzo di Borgo himself, all of them more or less connected with the great struggle. There, too, in the library were collected the decorations bestowed upon him by all the sovereigns of Europe for his successful zeal in hunting down the common enemy—"the Corsican Ogre." The palace, inside and out, is a monument to the most famous of Corsican vendettas.
My two winters at Alassio after leaving Berlin, though filled with deferred work, were restful. During a visit to America in 1903, I joined my class at Yale in celebrating its fiftieth anniversary, giving there a public address entitled "A Patriotic Investment." The main purpose of this address was to promote the establishment of Professorships of Comparative Legislation in our leading universities. I could not think then, and cannot think now, of any endowment likely to be more speedily and happily fruitful in good to the whole country. In the spring of 1904 I returned to my old house on the grounds of Cornell University, and there, with my family, old associates, and new friends about me, have devoted myself to various matters long delayed, and especially to writing sundry articles in the "Atlantic Monthly," the "Century Magazine," and various other periodicals, and to the discharge of my duties as a Trustee of Cornell and as a Regent of the Smithsonian Institution and a Trustee of the Carnegie Institution at Washington. It is, of course, the last of my life, but I count myself happy in living to see so much of good accomplished and so much promise of good in every worthy field of human effort throughout our country and indeed throughout the world.
Following are the letters referred to in this chapter.
FROM THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES. WHITE HOUSE, WASHINGTON.
OYSTER BAY, NEW YORK,
August 5, 1902.
MY DEAR AMBASSADOR WHITE:
It is with real regret that I accept your resignation, for I speak what is merely a self-evident truth when I say that we shall have to look with some apprehension to what your successor does, whoever that successor may be, lest he fall short of the standard you have set.