The first time L[ord] B[yron] went, there was Mrs. Hervey there; talkative, sister and a great friend of the Noels; she thought proper to faint out of the house, though her curiosity brought her back to speak with him.
Bonstetten told me that, upon his saying to Gray that he must be happy, he took and read to him the criticism of Johnson, which happens to have been written after Gray's death; he used to go in the evening to tea, and remain all night reading the English authors with him. Gray introduced him to society;[[15]] and, one of the professors having asked him if he understood what he said, he replied he thought so, but very diff[idently?]—"So you think so only!" Gray, hearing this, showed B[onstetten] some passages to ask him, which B[onstetten] did in a public company, complimenting him upon [his?] known knowledge; when all the company, one after the other, began contradicting the Professor's opinion. Then B[onstetten], turning to him, said, "You perhaps thought you understood Shakespear." Gray told him that there was none who could perfectly understand him.
Rossi, an Italian of about thirty, pleasant, agreeable, and good-natured, professor at Bologna, thence obliged to fly with two others. One of his companions was beginning his lecture, when the students called out, "No lecture, but an improvise upon the liberty of Italy"; as he was an improvisatore. He objected, as, on account of Murat's approach, it might be suspicious. They insisted, and the professors at hand said, "No harm if not upon present circumstances." He did it, and the students issued forth to join Murat; they had however made up their minds to do so before. Rossi joined it more openly and loudly, and was obliged to fly. He wrote a memoir to defend himself, in which he said it was only to avoid the Roman dominion, and give it to the Archduke; who told him that he had better write another, as Bologna was already ceded to Pius. When he was ruined thus partially he wrote to the father of his betrothed, to say that he must not (if he chose) think himself bound by his promise, as he was not in the same circumstances as when the promise was given. The father did retract. So far a man of honour. Now how to reconcile his being with Calandion, a magistrate of G[eneva] violent on the other side? who says he has made a good profession to him, and at the same time professing other opinions to others.
Gave me a letter to Milan, and by him I have been introduced to Saporiti, a good, enthusiastic, ignorant Italian. Talked of the English landing 100,000 soldiers here and there, as if they were so many peas.
Slaneys: the husband jealous of every one—Cambridge degree. When I danced with his wife, he after, when walking with her, came up and gave an arm too. The wife beautiful, but very simple. Galston, Miss, very beautiful.
"Genevan Liberal Society" is a muster of Englishmen for debate on speculative questions. Twice there. Immortality, accomplice's evidence. The members whom I knew were—Lord Kinnoul, a most tiresome, long-winded, repeating, thick-headed would-be orator, Lord Conyngham.
[The MS. gives "Cunningham," which must be a mistake. The Lord Conyngham of this period began the year 1816 as an Earl, and ended it as a Marquis. He was born in 1766, and lived on to 1832, and was husband of a lady, Elizabeth Denison, whose name figures much in the gossip, not excluding the scandal, of those years.]
Mr. Somers, good head enough. Valence, whom I cried to hear; and, meeting me after at Chamounix, the first thing he asked me was, "Why did you laugh at me?" St. Aubyn, Lloyd, Slaney.
Lloyd, of good Welsh blood, his original name Ap Griffith, rode out. We went out visiting one day, and, in returning in his gig, he touched a horse of a row of carts. The carter struck me upon my back with his whip; I jumped down, and six jumped at me. I fortunately was between a wheel and a hedge, so that they all could not reach. Lloyd, seeing this, jumped down also; then three left me and went to him, and another untied a piece of his wagon with which, while I defended myself from the two (one with a whip), he struck me while fortunately my arm was striking a blow, so that it did but just touch my face. He lifted again; I sprang back, and with all the force of my leap struck him with my fist in his face. His blow fell to the ground, and with his hand to his nose he retreated. They then seized stones to throw, but we closed with them; they could not throw above two, when we saw an English carriage we knew coming. We called, they came, and immediately the boisterous [fellows?] were calm. Some who tried to divide us got blows also.
St. Aubyn, an excellent fellow, introduced me to his father at Genthoud: is a natural son, studying for the Church. His father is a good polite man, according to the "go" school.[[16]] Keeps a mistress now, though sixty-five years: has many children by different mistresses.