THE RETREAT FROM TOULON
According to Sir G. Elliot’s account the retreat from Toulon must have abounded with affecting situations of distress and wretchedness. In the midst of the conflagration of the ships in the harbour, houses, magazines, etc., three small boats heavily laden with women and infants approached the Victory (Admiral Ld. Hood’s ship), near which they tossed up and down in speechless agony, not daring to ask the relief which they needed so much, but expressing their entreaties with uplifted hands and deep groans. What anguish! A merciless enemy behind, a vast expanse of dreary sea before, and not a friendly shore to land upon. Although the ship was already filled by hundreds of refugees, yet Sir Gilbert persuaded Ld. Hood to admit these. He landed at Corsica, which he describes as being in a curious situation, unlike any country in civilised Europe. The whole country up in arms, without discipline or officers, yet alert and obedient. Paoli is their chief, who without possessing any superior abilities has the talent of conciliating and governing the people. His word is a decree, his power patriarchal, a compound of sovereign and parental authority. The natives have offered to put themselves under the protection of England, and Sir G. is occupied in promoting this, as he wants to be made Governor. They offer to expel the French if they can gain assistance. They are a hardy, bold, and intrepid race, every Corsican esteeming himself equal to his companions. This notion gives them a bold freedom, especially when political affairs are discussed, when they look upon themselves as entitled to be auditors at least.
I have again heard ——’s last words, ‘I love you, for my passions are stronger than my reason: your being good, gentle, and handsome justify me: for the sake of others be discreet.’ I will indeed! Rochefoucauld lay upon my table: he opened it at the 514th maxim, which he observed was fallacious, and gave himself as a contradictory proof, ‘On passe souvent de l’amour à l’ambition; mais on ne revient guère de l’ambition à l’amour.’
On February 15, 1794, the Websters left Florence on their way to Rome, taking the road which passes Siena and Lake Bolsena. After a stay of two days at Rome, they left on the 22nd for Naples.
LORD HOLLAND
Florence, June 10th.—Reached Naples on the 26th February. Lodged at Severino’s. For the whole six or seven weeks I passed in that lovely spot I had not activity enough to occupy myself in any way but in lounging and talking. Ly. Bessborough and Ly. Spencer were there. A numerous band of young Englishmen from college; gambling and gallantry filled up the evenings and mornings. My favourite, Ld. G. Leveson-Gower, used often to come to me in the evening, as I sat at home a good deal on account of my grossesse and disliking the card parties. His companion, Ld. Holland, is quite delightful. He is eager without rashness, well bred without ceremony. His disposition and turn of mind are reckoned very like his uncle, Mr. Fox: his manner resembles his maternal uncle, Colonel Fitzpatrick. His politics are warm in favour of the Revolution, and his principles are strongly tinctured with democracy. It is the brilliant side, and apparently the honest one; all young men are hit by it at first, but when they see more of the world they cure of their honesty and love of liberty. But he would lament with all the reasonable men should revolutionary doctrines obtain in England, as he thinks the actual form of government the best suited to the country. Though so zealous, he is totally without any party rancour; in short, he is exactly what all must like, esteem, and admire. His spirits are sometimes too boisterous, and may occasionally overpower one, but he is good-humoured enough to endure a reproof.
His bosom friend, Mr. Beauclerk,[124] is far from resembling him in any one amiable point of view: he is silent and sulky, and when he opens it is to tease his friend. I am told, however, that he is remarkably sensible, good-humoured, and pleasing to those who know him, but this must be taken upon trust, as he is the counterpart of Lord Burleigh in The Critic. He is deeply in love with Ly. B., and abhors Ld. Granville, who is his rival. I understand that I am odious to him; je me venge in feeling as much against him as he possibly can towards me. Mr. Marsh[125] is very sensible; he is one of the very few rational beings I met with. I carried him to Italinski one day, who was mightily pleased with his scholarship and conversation: he also lived much with me. Ld. Morpeth improves the more he is known; I always liked him.
I never saw Lady Ann Hatton before, and to my surprise found her in company with Ly. Plymouth, who is the great retailer of anecdotes against this slippery Hibernian, and whom she declared against receiving. Her face is not regularly handsome, her figure enchanting, an airy nymphlike form as youthful as a Hebe. She is, however, past thirty considerably. Her sister, Ly. E. Monck, is divinely beautiful; her head is angelic.
Ld. Digby[126] fell in love with Ly. Bruce, who only coquets with him. He is good-humoured, and full of good useful sense. There was a bad lot of drinking Irish, with Ld. Tyrone and Mr. Jefferies at their head, but I knew little of them. Mr. Brand continues his belle amitié for me, rather sentimentally tiresome when he gets upon that topic. Italinski as usual. Drew delighted to see me. He is discontented with the Bessboroughs. Ld. Berwick behaved shockingly to poor Ly. Plymouth: she is very unhappy. He speaks to her and of her with the most disrespectful familiarity. The Hamiltons were as tiresome as ever; he as amorous, she as vulgar.
I made an excursion to Sorrento with Ld. Holland and Italinski: we slept there. I was terrified at crossing the bay. On my return I was foolish enough to get out of the boat on the Portici shore, and return home in a calecino.