‘I have the honour to be, with the greatest respect,
‘Sir, your most obedient, &c.,
‘F. Bukaty,
‘Envoy Extraordinary of Poland.’
From Dr. Burney
‘Chelsea College: Oct. 20, 1789.
‘My dear Friend,—I have begged a corner of this sheet from your daughter Bessy to congratulate you on your safe arrival on Classic ground after the perils and dangers of Gothic ground. How insipid will the history of the present times in this last country render all other history! And what weight will it not give to what has been long called the history of Fabulous times! The Poissardes are but the Amazons of the present day, and the leaders at the attack of the Bastille the Hercules and Theseus. The fetching the King, Queen, and Royal Family from Versailles, and the total demolition of the ancient government of the Kingdom, have no type in history or fable, ancient or modern. The nobles and clergy indiscriminately stripped of their honours and property, not to give it to others of the same rank and class, but to the mob, who are helping themselves to whatever they like, and destroying whom and what is not honoured with their approbation in a more successful and effectual way than our Wat Tyler or Jack Straw ever intended, and which would have astonished even J. J. Rousseau had he been living, in spite of his ideas of an égalité de condition. But whether a totally levelling scheme can be rendered permanent in a great Empire or no, time, not experience, can show. I used to think la loi des plus forts only existed among savages, and that in Society there were tall minds as well as tall bodies, but none such have as yet appeared in France. But let us talk of Italy, where I found no want of tall minds, even in these degenerate days. I am glad you seem to like the farming of the Milanese. I was particularly struck with it all through Lombardy, and think you will find even among the peasantry shrewdness, industry, and ingenuity. In all the great cities I found philosophers, mathematicians, and scholars, as well as musicians; these last, indeed, make more noise in the world, and, being travellers, spread their own fame into remote countries, while the drone and scientific part of a nation are seldom heard of out of the walls of their colleges or towns till after their decease. Indeed, almost all those I knew personally nineteen years ago in Italy are now no more! Padre Boccaria at Turin, Padre Boscovich at Milan, and Padre Sacchi. This last, I believe, is still living. But Count Firmian is dead, to whom I and every English traveller was much obliged by his hospitality and kindness. You probably owe the same obligation to his successor, with whose name even I am unacquainted. If you go to Padua you will probably stop at Verona, where there are always men of learning and science. But you must not judge of the present state of musick in any part of Italy unless you remain there during the Carnival. At other times (except at the great fairs) the principal theatres are shut, and the others supplied with such riff-raff as our Sadler’s Wells during summer. If Guadagni had been living, you would have him at Padua, and if I had not engaged him to the Pantheon, Pachierotti, whom we expect here in a few days. Pray go to the church of Sant’ Antonio on a festival; there Tartini used to lead and Guadagni sing. If Padre Valetti is living, the Maestro di Capella, pray present my compliments to him and enquire after the sequel of his Treatise. I have as yet only seen the first part. I likewise beg to be remembered to Signor Marsili, the Professor of Botany, and Padre Columbo, the Professor of Mathematics: the first was some time in England and speaks our language; the second was the great friend of Tartini, and left in possession of all his manuscript papers. Enquire what is become of them, and try to get intelligence of the disposal of Padre Martini’s papers, books, and sequel of his ‘History of Musick’ at Bologna. Enquire likewise when you meet with intelligent musical people what are the defects of the newest and best of the great Italian theatres. No plan is, I believe, as yet adopted for rebuilding ours. Le Texier has a model made with many conveniences and more magnificence than our former theatre could boast, but whether it will be adopted, or whether it is to be wished that a Frenchman should ever have the management of an Italian opera, I know not. However partial he or his countrymen may seem to German and Italian musick, I know by long observation that they are totally ignorant of, and enemies to, good singing, without which what are the two or three acts of an opera but intermezzi or act tunes to the ballets? I perceive, however, that, amidst all the horrors of Paris, they suffer Italian operas to be performed in Italian and by Italians, which were never allowed before, except at Versailles; but these are only burlettas; serious operas so performed might have some effect on the national taste in singing. But les Dames des Halles, their excellencies Mesdames les Poissardes, furnish them with “other fish to fry” at present; so I shall say no more of France, but that I pity most sincerely every honest man who has the misfortune to be resident in that distracted kingdom.
‘God bless you, my dear Sir, and give you health and spirits to enjoy your rational and useful enquiries.
‘Charles Burney.’
[The following extracts from Arthur Young’s letters home, and letter to his darling Bobbin, then aged five, are worth giving. With very slight excisions all letters to his daughter Mary are incorporated in the ‘French Travels.’]