On our road here we came again through Aix. The Mule blanche without the town, is better than any auberge within, and Mons. L'Abbe Abrard Prætor, de la ordre de St. Malta, is not only a very agreeable, but a very convenient acquaintance for a stranger, and who is always ready to shew the English in particular, attention, and who had much attention shewn him by Lord A. Percy and his Lady.
From Aix we passed through Lambresque, Orgon, and Sencage, a fine country, full of almond trees, and which were in full blossom on the 7th of March. At Orgon the post-house was so bad, that after my horse was in the stable, I was obliged to put him to, and remove to the Soleil d'Or, without the town, and made a good move too. The situation of Notre Dame de St. Piere, a convent on a high hill, is worthy of notice, and the antiquity of the town also.—Five leagues from Orgon we crossed a very aukward passage in a ferry-boat, and were landed in the Pope's territories, about five miles from Avignon. The castle, and higher part of the town, were visible, rising up in the middle of a vast plain, fertile and beautiful as possible. If we were charmed with the distant view, we were much more so upon a nearer approach; nothing can be more pleasing than the well-planted, and consequently well-shaded coach and foot roads all round this pretty little city; all shut in with the most beautiful ancient fortification walls I ever beheld, and all in perfect repair; nor were we asked any questions by the Pope's soldiers, or Custom-house Officers. I had a letter to Dr. Power, an English Physician in this town, who received me with great civity, and made me known to Lord Mountgarret, and Mr. Butler, his son, with whom I had the honour to spend some very agreeable hours: his Lordship has an excellent house here, and keeps a table, truly characteristic of the hospitality of his own country.—And now I cannot help telling you of a singular disorder which attacked me the very day I arrived; and the still more singular manner I got well: the day before I arrived, we had been almost blown along the road to Orgon by a most violent wind; but I did not perceive that I had received any cold or injury from it, till we arrived here, and then, I had such an external soreness from head to foot, that I almost dreaded to walk or stir, and when I did, it was as slow as my feet could move; after continuing so for some days, I was much urged to dine with Lord Mountgarret, on St. Patrick's day; I did so, and by drinking a little more than ordinary, set nature to work, who, without any other Doctor, did the business, by two or three nights' copious sweats. I would not have mentioned this circumstance, but it may be the mal du pais, and ought to be mentioned for the method of cure.
There was not quite so good an understanding between the Pope's Legate and the English residing here, as could be wished; some untoward circumstance had happened, and there seemed to be faults on both sides; it was carried, I think, to such a length, that when the English met him, they did not pull off their hats; but as it happened before I came, and as in our walks and rides we often met him airing in his coach, we paid that respect which is everywhere due to a first magistrate, and he took great pains to return it most graciously; his livery, guards, &c. make a very splendid appearance: he holds a court, and is levee'd every Sunday, though not liked by the French. At the church of St. Didier, in a little chapel, of mean workmanship, is the tomb of the celebrated Laura, whose name Petrarch has rendered immortal; the general opinion is, that she died a virgin; but it appears by her tomb, that she was the wife of Hugues de Sade, and that she had many children. About two hundred years after her death, some curious people got permission to open her tomb, in which they found a little box, containing some verses written by Petrarch, and a medallion of lead, on one side of which was a Lady's head and on the reverse, the four following letters, M.L.M.E.
Francis the First, passing thro' Avignon, visited this tomb, and left upon it the following epitaph, of his own composition:
"En petit lien compris vous pouvez voir
Ce qui comprend beaucoup par renommèe
Plume, labour le langue & le devoir
Furent vaincus par l'aimant de l'aimée
O gentille ame, etant tant estimée
Qui le pourra louer quen se laissant?