The queen used to be subject to fits of devotion, at which times she stuck short prayers and pious ejaculations inside of her stays, and occasionally swallowed them. The king used to pass our house on his way to the lake where he caught the gulls that he sold to the fish-dealers. He weighed the birds with his own hands, and was very careful to be paid in good money.
We remained at Naples till the latter part of May, 1786, when we proceeded to Marseilles in a small sailing vessel. On our arrival at that port the custom-house officers came on board, and were very troublesome, though we had nothing contrary to their laws. It was impossible, indeed, not to remark a change in the manners of the French since we last resided in that country. The revolutionary spirit had made great progress during the few years that had elapsed, though it had not yet reached its acme. Injurious reflections were just beginning to be cast upon Marie Antoinette, and all sorts of reports were being spread abroad of a character to bring the “haute société” into discredit.
After staying a few days at Marseilles we went for a week to Avignon, and thence to Nismes, where we remained for nearly a year. The larger portion of the inhabitants were Calvinists, but the bishop was kind and liberal to all who stood in need of his assistance, and never omitted to send invitations to the higher order of Protestant gentlemen. Individuals, however, of the two persuasions were not equally tolerant. If a Catholic were invited to dine with a Protestant on Friday or Saturday, he was certain not to find anything he could eat; and if a Protestant happened to dine with a Catholic on a fast day, there was never anything but fish and vegetables. Nevertheless, the society of Nismes was very agreeable, and there were good families residing in the neighbourhood who were very sociable.
In the following spring we removed to Vienne, with which we were so well pleased that we resided there until the beginning of May, 1789.[[48]] An embassy from Tippoo Sahib passed through Vienne in July, 1788, on its way from Marseilles to Paris. The ambassadors consisted of a warrior dressed in white, said to be the king’s son-in-law, with his two sons who were learning French, and of a man of letters and a man of law. They travelled only from eleven to four, fearing the cold of the morning and evening. The whole town turned out to see them. The warrior laughed much on seeing abbés and ladies standing together, and said that the latter took a great liberty in touching persons who were sacred. He was also much grieved for the women who were not married, and thought they were not fairly treated.
From Vienne we descended the Rhône to Avignon, and thence proceeded by way of Aix to Toulon. The country was filled with soldiers, and the townspeople were breaking out into riots by reason of the heavy taxes and the high price of bread. We were detained at Toulon several days waiting for a French felucca from Antibes, as there was a nest of Barbary corsairs among the Iles d’Hyères which rendered Italian vessels unsafe. As it was, we crept along the coast, and landed at Nice, Frejus, and Savona,[[49]] being greatly delayed by contrary winds. However, on the eighteenth day after our departure from Toulon, we reached Genoa in safety. Society was then on a very magnificent footing in that aristocratic republic. Both men and women of the higher classes were familiar with both French and Italian, though they generally used the Genoese dialect. Many of them were also well acquainted with English, and, as in other parts of Italy, most of the men were good classical scholars. They were not, perhaps, so fond of music and painting as in the south, and yet the noble pictures in their churches and palaces bore evidence to the taste of the nation for the latter art.
All the nobility dressed in black, the men invariably, and the ladies when at the Doge’s palace and the large parties called the “Quarante.” It was considered their court dress, and was rarely worn for mourning. Indeed, it was the custom for the nobles to mention in their wills that they desired no mourning should be worn for them. The assemblies derived their name of “quarante” from their having been originally given by forty of the principal families in succession. There were not nearly so many families of distinction when we were at Genoa, but these parties were nevertheless very splendid, the houses being brilliantly illuminated within and without, and sumptuously adorned with choice tapestry and costly furniture. The nobility seldom gave grand dinners, but when they did it was in the very best style. They were for the most part engaged in commerce, and very keen in business matters.
I remember that after one of their great dinners a servant, who was carrying coffee round, let the tray fall, and broke a very valuable service of china. The master of the house took no further notice of the accident than to tell the man to bring some more coffee. One of the guests, who came from another part of Italy, remarked how patiently he bore this loss, although he had been so angry only the day before because his people were burning two small candles, instead of one, in the office. The host smiled, and said: “O! questa è altra cosa: qui si spende, là si guadagna.”[[50]]
It was a rare circumstance for Genoese noblemen to enter a foreign service, nor was the military profession generally held in high regard. One evening I was sitting by a lady at one of the parties of the “quarante,” when a young officer came up and spoke to my companion. After conversing a little while he moved away again, when she whispered to, me: “Though he is in uniform, I can assure you that he is a gentleman.” Very few of the Genoese noblemen cared to enter the army, but many Corsican noblemen still remained in the service, though that island no longer belonged to the Republic. The generalissimo, or rather the secretary-at-war, was a senator, and wore the black “toga” of his order. I saw him once review the troops in that dress, with a very fine lace braid. He sat in an arm-chair at a table, with pens, ink, and paper before him—his secretaries standing by the side of the table—while the soldiers were performing their military evolutions.
With respect to the naval service, however, it was very different—the frigates and galleys being commanded by young men of the highest families. For the same reason that the Genoese nobles would not serve in the army, they refused to be sent as ministers to foreign courts—ambassadors they had none. Every noble was “a sovereign,” and as such could not be a servant, even of the government, so simple citizens, or gentlemen from provincial towns, were employed as envoys of the republic.
There was one inconvenience, of a singular kind, which we never quite got over. The money of many different countries was current in Genoa, but changed in value every week. This at first puzzled us not a little, but a gentleman of our acquaintance afterwards used to call upon us every Saturday at noon, and tell us the rates of exchange for the following week. Still it was a matter of some trouble in paying a bill to calculate the different values of Austrian, Papal, Piedmontese, Tuscan, and French coins, all of which were mixed together in the money we received from our banker. The coin of the Republic was rare, and much sought after.[[51]]