_November_ 20.--A fair wind all night, running at the merry rate of nine
knots an hour. In the morning we are in sight of the highest island,
Pantellaria, which the Sicilians use as a state prison, a species of
Botany Bay. We are about thirty miles from the burning island--I mean
Graham's--but neither that nor Etna make their terrors visible. At noon
Graham's Island appears, greatly diminished since last accounts. We got
out the boats and surveyed this new production of the earth with great
interest. Think I have got enough to make a letter to our Royal Society
and friends at Edinburgh.[489] Lat. 37° 10' 31" N., long. 12° 40' 15"
E., lying north and south by compass, by Mr. Bokely, the Captain's
clerk['s measurements]. Returned on board at dinner-time.

_November_ 21.--Indifferent night. In the morning we are running off
Gozo, a subordinate island to Malta, intersected with innumerable
enclosures of dry-stone dykes similar to those used in Selkirkshire, and
this likeness is increased by the appearance of sundry square towers of
ancient days. In former times this was believed to be Calypso's island,
and the cave of the enchantress is still shown. We saw the entrance from
the deck, as rude a cavern as ever opened out of a granite rock. The
place of St. Paul's shipwreck is also shown, no doubt on similarly
respectable authority.

At last we opened Malta, an island, or rather a city, like no other in
the world. The seaport, formerly the famous Valetta, comes down to the
sea-shore. On the one side lay the [Knights], on the other side lay the
Turks, who finally got entire possession of it, while the other branch
remained in the power of the Christians. Mutual cruelties were
exercised; the Turks, seizing on the survivors of the knights who had so
long defended St. Elmo, cut the Maltese cross on the bodies of the
slain, and, tying them to planks, let them drift with the receding tide
into the other branch of the harbour still defended by the Christians.
The Grand-Master, in resentment of this cruelty, caused his Turkish
prisoners to be decapitated and their heads thrown from mortars into the
camp of the infidels.[490]

_November_ 22.--To-day we entered Malta harbour, to quarantine, which is
here very strict. We are condemned by the Board of Quarantine to ten
days' imprisonment or sequestration, and go in the _Barham's_ boat to
our place of confinement, built by a Grand-Master named Manuel[491] for
a palace for himself and his retinue. It is spacious and splendid, but
not comfortable; the rooms connected one with another by an arcade, into
which they all open, and which forms a delightful walk. If I was to live
here a sufficient time I think I could fit the apartments up so as to be
handsome, and even imposing, but at present they are only kept as
barracks for the infirmary or lazaretto. A great number of friends come
to see me, who are not allowed to approach nearer than a yard. This, as
the whole affair is a farce, is ridiculous enough. We are guarded by the
officers of health in a peculiar sort of livery or uniform with yellow
neck, who stroll up and down with every man that stirs--and so mend the
matter.[492] My friends Captain and Mrs. Dawson, the daughter and
son-in-law of the late Lord Kinnedder, occupying as military quarters
one end of the Manuel palace, have chosen to remain, though thereby
subjected to quarantine, and so become our fellows in captivity. Our
good friend Captain Pigot, hearing some exaggerated report of our being
uncomfortably situated, came himself in his barge with the purpose of
reclaiming his passengers rather than we should be subjected to the
least inconvenience. We returned our cordial thanks, but felt we had
already troubled him sufficiently. We dine with Captain and Mrs. Dawson,
sleep in our new quarters, and, notwithstanding mosquito curtains and
iron bedsteads, are sorely annoyed by vermin, the only real hardship we
have to complain of since the tossing on the Bay of Biscay, and which
nothing could save us from.

Les Maltois ne se mariaient jamais dans le mois de mai. Ils espérèrent
si mal des ouvrages de tout genre commencé durant son cours qu'ils ne se
faisaient pas couper d'habits pendant ce mois.

The same superstition still prevails in Scotland.

_November_ 23.--This is a splendid town. The sea penetrates it in
several places with creeks formed into harbours, surrounded by
buildings, and these again covered with fortifications. The streets are
of very unequal height, and as there has been no attempt at lowering
them, the greatest variety takes place between them; and the singularity
of the various buildings, leaning on each other in such a bold,
picturesque, and uncommon manner, suggests to me ideas for finishing
Abbotsford by a screen on the west side of the old barn and with a
fanciful wall decorated with towers, to enclose the bleaching
green--watch-towers such as these, of which I can get drawings while I
am here. Employed the forenoon in writing to Lockhart. I am a little at
a loss what account to give of myself. Better I am decidedly in spirit,
but rather hampered by my companions, who are neither desirous to
follow my amusements, nor anxious that I should adopt theirs. I am
getting on with this Siege of Malta very well. I think if I continue, it
will be ready in a very short time, and I will get the opinion of
others, and if my charm hold I will be able to get home through
Italy--and take up my own trade again.

_November_ 24.--We took the quarantine boat and visited the outer
harbour or great port, in which the ships repose when free from their
captivity. The British ships of war are there,--a formidable spectacle,
as they all carry guns of great weight. If they go up the Levant as
reported, they are a formidable weight in the bucket. I was sensible
while looking at them of the truth of Cooper's description of the beauty
of their build, their tapering rigging and masts, and how magnificent it
looks as

    "Hulking and vast the gallant warship rides!"

We had some pride in looking at the _Barham_, once in a particular
manner our own abode. Captain Pigot and some of his officers dined with
us at our house of captivity. By a special grace our abode here is to be
shortened one day, so we leave on Monday first, which is an indulgence.
To-day we again visit Dragut's Point. The guardians who attend to take
care that we quarantines do not kill the people whom we meet, tell some
stories of this famous corsair, but I scarce can follow their Arabic. I
must learn it, though, for the death of Dragut[493] would be a fine
subject for a poem, but in the meantime I will proceed with my
_Knights_.

[_November_ 25-30.][494]--By permission of the quarantine board we were
set at liberty, and lost no time in quitting the dreary fort of Don
Manuel, with all its mosquitoes and its thousands of lizards which
[stand] shaking their heads at you like their brother in the new Arabian
tale of _Daft Jock_. My son and daughter are already much tired of the
imprisonment. I myself cared less about it, but it is unpleasant to be
thought so very unclean and capable of poisoning a whole city. We took
our guardians' boat and again made a round of the harbour; were met by
Mrs. Bathurst's[495] carriage, and carried to my very excellent
apartment at Beverley's Hotel. In passing I saw something of the city,
and very comical it was; but more of that hereafter. At or about four
o'clock we went to our old habitation the _Barham_, having promised
again to dine in the Ward room, where we had a most handsome dinner, and
were dismissed at half-past six, after having the pleasure to receive
and give a couple hours of satisfaction. I took the boat from the chair,
and was a little afraid of the activity of my assistants, but it all
went off capitally; went to Beverley's and bed in quiet.

At two o'clock Mrs. Col. Bathurst transported me to see the Metropolitan
Church of St. John, by far the most magnificent place I ever saw in my
life; its huge and ample vaults are of the Gothic order. The floor is of
marble, each stone containing the inscription of some ancient knight
adorned with a patent of mortality and an inscription recording his name
and family. For instance, one knight I believe had died in the infidels'
prison; to mark his fate, one stone amid the many-coloured pavement
represents a door composed of grates (iron grates I mean), displaying
behind them an interior which a skeleton is in vain attempting to escape
from by bursting the bars. If you conceive he has pined in his fetters
there for centuries till dried in the ghastly image of death himself, it
is a fearful imagination. The roof which bends over this scene of death
is splendidly adorned with carving and gilding, while the varied colours
and tinctures both above and beneath, free from the tinselly effect
which might have been apprehended, [acquire a] solemnity in the dim
religious light, which they probably owe to the lapse of time. Besides
the main aisle, which occupies the centre, there is added a
chapter-house in which the knights were wont to hold their meetings. At
the upper end of this chapter-house is the fine Martyrdom of St. John
the Baptist, by Caravaggio, though this has been disputed. On the left
hand of the body of the church lie a series of subordinate aisles or
chapels, built by the devotion of the different languages,[496] and
where some of the worthies inhabit the vaults beneath. The other side of
the church is occupied in the same manner; one chapel in which the
Communion was imparted is splendidly adorned by a row of silver pillars,
which divided the worshippers from the priest. Immense riches had been
taken from this chapel of the Holy Sacrament by the French; a golden
lamp of great size, and ornaments to the value of 50,000 crowns are
mentioned in particular; the rich railing had not escaped the soldiers'
rapacity had it not been painted to resemble wood. I must visit this
magnificent church another time. To-day I have done it at the imminent
risk of a bad fall. We drove out to see a Maltese village, highly
ornamented in the usual taste. Mrs. Bathurst was so good as to take me
in her carriage. We dined with Colonel Bathurst.

_November_ 26.--I visited my old and much respected friend, Mr. John
Hookham Frere,[497] and was much gratified to see him the same man I
had always known him,--perhaps a little indolent; but that's not much. A
good Tory as ever, when the love of many is waxed cold. At night a grand
ball in honour of your humble servant--about four hundred gentlemen and
ladies. The former mostly British officers of army, navy, and civil
service. Of the ladies, the island furnished a fair proportion--- I mean
viewed in either way. I was introduced to a mad Italian improvisatore,
who was with difficulty prevented from reciting a poem in praise of the
King, and imposing a crown upon my head, _nolens volens_. Some of the
officers, easily conceiving how disagreeable this must have been to a
quiet man, got me out of the scrape, and I got home about midnight; but
remain unpoetised and unspeeched.

_November_ 28.--I have made some minutes, some observations, and could
do something at my Siege; but I do not find my health gaining ground. I
visited Frere at Sant' Antonio: a beautiful place with a splendid
garden, which Mr. Frere will never tire of, unless some of his family
come to carry him home by force.

_November_ 29.--Lady Hotham was kind enough to take me a drive, and we
dined with them--a very pleasant party. I picked up some anecdotes of
the latter siege.

Make another pilgrimage, escorted by Captain Pigot and several of his
officers. We took a more accurate view of this splendid structure
[Church of St. John]. I went down into the vaults and made a visiting
acquaintance with La Valette,[498] whom, greatly to my joy, I found most
splendidly provided with a superb sepulchre of bronze, on which he
reclines in the full armour of a Knight of Chivalrie.

FOOTNOTES:

[483] See Sailor's Song, _Cease, rude Boreas_, etc., _ante_, p. 402:
"The Storm."

[484] See _ante_, vol. i. p. 253, note.

[485] Lasting from 21st June 1779 to 6th February 1783.

[486] Compare the reflection of the Chevalier d'Arcon, the contriver of
the floating batteries. He remained on board the _Talla Piedra_ till
past midnight, and wrote to the French Ambassador in the first hours of
his anguish: "I have burnt the Temple of Ephesus; everything is gone,
and through my fault! What comforts me under my calamity is that the
honour of the two kings remains untarnished."--Mahon's _History of
England_, vol. vii. p. 290.

[487] Nothing like these Bristol riots had occurred since those in
Birmingham in 1791.--Martineau's _History of the Peace_, p. 353. The
Tranent (East Lothian) and Bonnymoor (Stirlingshire) conflicts took
place in 1797 and 1820; the Manchester riot in 1826.

[488] Afterwards Admiral Sir Baldwin Walker, so long in command of the
Turkish Navy.

[489] See long letter to Mr. Skene in _Life_, vol. x. pp. 126-130.

[490] In the memorable siege of 1565.

[491] Manuel de Vilhena, Grand-Master 1722-1736.

[492] An example of the rigour with which the Quarantine laws were
enforced is given by Sir Walter on the 24th:--"We had an instance of the
strictness of these regulations from an accident which befell us as we
entered the harbour. One of our seamen was brushed from the main yard,
fell into the sea and began to swim for his life. The Maltese boats bore
off to avoid giving him assistance, but an English boat, less knowing,
picked up the poor fellow, and were immediately assigned to the comforts
of the Quarantine, that being the Maltese custom of rewarding
humanity."--Letter to J.G.L.

[493] High Admiral of the Turkish fleet before Malta, and slain there in
1565. See _Dragut the Corsair_, in Lockhart's _Spanish Ballads_.

[494] The dates are not to be absolutely depended upon during the Malta
visit, as they appear to have been added subsequently by Sir Walter.

[495] Wife of the Lieut.-Governor, Colonel Seymour Bathurst.

[496] In 1790 the Order of the Knights of St. John of Jerusalem
consisted of eight "Lodges" or "Languages," viz.: France, Auvergne,
Provence, Spain, Portugal, Germany, and Anglo-Bavaria.--Hoare's _Tour_,
vol. i. p. 28.

[497] John Hookham Frere, the disciple of Pitt, and bosom friend of
Canning, made Malta his home from 1820 till 1846; he died there on
January 7th. He was in deep affliction at the time of Scott's arrival,
having lost his wife a few months before, but he welcomed his old friend
with a melancholy pleasure.

For Scott's high opinion of Frere, as far back as 1804, see _Life_, vol.
ii. p. 207 and note.

[498] Grandmaster of the Knights of St. John of Jerusalem, and defender
of Malta against Solyman in 1565.




DECEMBER


_December_ 1.--There are two good libraries, on a different plan and for
different purposes--a modern subscription library that lends its own
books, and an ancient foreign library which belonged to the Knights, but
does not lend books. Its value is considerable, but the funds
unfortunately are shamefully small; I may do this last some good. I have
got in a present from Frere the prints of the Siege of Malta, very
difficult to understand, and on loan from Mr. Murray, Agent of the Navy
Office, the original of Boiardo, to be returned through Mr. Murray,
Albemarle Street. Mr. Murray is very good-natured about it.

_December_ 2.--My chief occupation has been driving with Frere. Dr.
Liddell declines a handsome fee. I will want to send some oranges to the
children. I am to go with Col. Bathurst to-day as far as to wait on the
bishop. My old friend Sir John Stoddart's daughter is to be married to a
Captain Atkinson. Rode with Frere. Much recitation.

_December_ 6.--Captain Pigot inclines to take me on with him to Naples,
after which he goes to Tunis on Government service. This is an offer not
to be despised, though at the expense of protracting the news from
Scotland, which I engage to provide for in case of the worst, by
offering Mr. Cadell a new romance, to be called The Siege of Malta,
which if times be as they were when I came off, should be thankful[ly
received] at a round sum, paying back not only what is overdrawn, but
supplying finances during the winter.

_December_ 10, [_Naples_].--I ought to say that before leaving Malta I
went to wait on the Archbishop: a fine old gentleman, very handsome,
and one of the priests who commanded the Maltese in their insurrection
against the French. I took the freedom to hint that as he had possessed
a journal of this blockade, it was but due to his country and himself to
give it to the public, and offered my assistance. He listened to my
suggestion, and seemed pleased with the proposal, which I repeated more
than once, and apparently with success. Next day the Bishop returned my
visit in full state, attended by his clergy, and superbly dressed in
costume, the pearls being very fine. (The name of this fine old
dignitary of the Romish Church is Don Francis Caruana, Bishop of Malta.)

The last night we were at Malta we experienced a rude shock of an
earthquake, which alarmed me, though I did not know what it was. It was
said to foretell that the ocean, which had given birth to Graham's
Island, had, like Pelops, devoured its own offspring, and we are told it
is not now visible, and will be, perhaps, hid from those who risk the
main; but as we did not come near its latitude we cannot say from our
own knowledge that the news is true. I found my old friend Frere as fond
as ever of old ballads. He took me out almost every day, and favoured me
with recitations of the Cid and the continuation of Whistlecraft. He
also acquainted me that he had made up to Mr. Coleridge the pension of
£200 from the Board of Literature[499] out of his own fortune.

_December_ 13, [_Naples_].--We left Malta on this day, and after a most
picturesque voyage between the coast of Sicily and Malta arrived here on
the 17th, where we were detained for quarantine, whence we were not
dismissed till the day before Christmas. I saw Charles, to my great joy,
and agreed to dine with his master, Right Hon. Mr. Hill,[500] resolving
it should be my first and last engagement at Naples. Next morning much
struck with the beauty of the Bay of Naples. It is insisted that my
arrival has been a signal for the greatest eruption from Vesuvius which
that mountain has favoured us with for many a day. I can only say, as
the Frenchman said of the comet supposed to foretell his own death,
"_Ah, messieurs, la comète me fait trop d'honneur_." Of letters I can
hear nothing. There are many English here, of most of whom I have some
knowledge.

_December_ 25, [_Bay of Naples_].--We are once more fairly put into
quarantine. Captain Pigot does not, I think, quite understand the
freedom his flag is treated with, and could he find law for so doing
would try his long thirty-six pounders on the town of Naples and its
castles; not to mention a sloop of ten guns which has ostentatiously
entered the Bay to assist them. Lord knows we would make ducks and
drakes of the whole party with the _Barham's_ terrible battery!

There is a new year like to begin and no news from Britain. By and by I
will be in the condition of those who are sick and in prison, and
entitled to visits and consolation on principles of Christianity.

_December_ 26, [_Strada Nuova_].--Went ashore; admitted to pratique, and
were received here.[501] Walter has some money left, which we must use
or try a begging-box, for I see no other resource, since they seem to
have abandoned me so. Go ashore each day to sight-seeing. Have the
pleasure to meet Mr.[502] and Mrs. Laing-Meason of Lindertis, and have
their advice and assistance and company in our wanderings almost every
day. Mr. Meason has made some valuable remarks on the lava where the
villas of the middle ages are founded: the lava shows at least upon the
ancient maritime villas of the Romans; so the boot of the moderns galls
the kibe of the age preceding them; the reason seems to be the very
great durability with which the Romans finished their domestic
architecture of maritime arches, by which they admitted the sea into
their lower houses.[503]

       *       *       *       *       *

We were run away with, into the grotto very nearly, but luckily stopped
before we entered, and so saved our lives. We have seen the Strada
Nuova--a new access of extreme beauty which the Italians owe to Murat.

The Bay of Naples is one of the finest things I ever saw. Vesuvius
controls it on the opposite side of the town.

I never go out in the evening, but take airings in the day-time almost
daily. The day after Christmas I went to see some old parts of the city,
amongst the rest a tower called Torre del Carmine, which figured during
the Duke of Guise's adventure, and the gallery of as old a church, where
Masaniello was shot at the conclusion of his career.[504] I marked down
the epitaph of a former Empress,[505] which is striking and affecting.
It would furnish matter for my Tour if I wanted it.

    "Naples, thou'rt a gallant city,
    But thou hast been dearly bought"--[506]

So is King Alphonso made to sum up the praises of this princely town,
with the losses which he had sustained in making himself master of it. I
looked on it with something of the same feelings, and I may adopt the
same train of thought when I recall Lady Northampton, Lady Abercorn, and
other friends much beloved who have met their death in or near this
city.

FOOTNOTES:

[499] By "Board of Literature" Scott doubtless means the Royal Society
of Literature, instituted in 1824 under the patronage of George iv.; see
_ante_, vol. i. pp. 390-91. Besides the members who paid a subscription
there were ten associates, of whom Coleridge was one, who each received
an annuity of a hundred guineas from the King's bounty. When William IV.
succeeded his brother in 1830, he declined to continue these annuities.
Representations were made to the Government, and the then Prime
Minister, Earl Grey, offered Coleridge a private grant of £200 from the
Treasury, which he declined.

The pension from the Society or the Privy Purse of George iv., which Mr.
Hookham Frere told Sir Walter he had made up to Coleridge, was one
hundred guineas.

[500] Afterwards Lord Berwick.

[501] The travellers established themselves in the Palazzo Caramanico as
soon as they were released from quarantine.

[502] A brother of Malcolm Laing, the historian.

[503] An account is given by Sir William Gell of an excursion by sea to
the ruins of such a Roman villa on the promontory of Posilipo, to which
he had taken Sir Walter in a boat on the 26th of January.--_Life_, vol.
x. pp. 157-8.

[504] For a picturesque sketch of Naples during the insurrection of 1647
see Sir Walter's article on Masaniello and the Duke of Guise.--_Foreign
Quarterly Review_, vol. iv. pp. 355-403.

[505] See Appendix iv.: "A former Empress." Sir Walter no doubt means
the mother of Conradin of Suabia, or, as the Italians call him,
Corradino,--erroneously called "Empress," though her husband had
pretensions to the Imperial dignity, disputed and abortive. For the
whole affecting story see _Histoire de la Conquête de Naples_, St.
Priest, vol. iii. pp. 130-185, especially pp. 162-3.

[506] A variation of the lines on Alphonso's capture of the city in
1442:--

"And then he looked on Naples, that great city of the sea, 'O city,'
saith the King, 'how great hath been thy cost, For thee I twenty
years--my fairest years--have lost.'"

--Lockhart's _Spanish Ballads_, "The King of Arragon."




1832.




JANUARY.


_January 5_.--Went by invitation to wait upon a priest, who almost
rivals my fighting bishop of Malta. He is the old Bishop of
Tarentum,[507] and, notwithstanding his age, eighty and upwards, is
still a most interesting man. A face formed to express an interest in
whatever passes; caressing manners, and a total absence of that rigid
stiffness which hardens the heart of the old and converts them into a
sort of petrifaction. Apparently his foible was a fondness for cats; one
of them, a superb brindled Persian cat, is a great beauty, and seems a
particular favourite. I think we would have got on well together if he
could have spoken English, or I French or Latin; but _hélas!_ I once saw
at Lord Yarmouth's house a Persian cat, but not quite so fine as that of
the Bishop. He gave me a Latin devotional poem and an engraving of
himself, and I came home about two o'clock.

_January_ 6 to 12.--We reach the 12th January, amusing ourselves as we
can, generally seeing company and taking airings in the forenoon in this
fine country. Sir William Gell, a very pleasant man, one of my chief
cicerones. Lord Hertford comes to Naples. I am glad to keep up an old
acquaintance made in the days of George IV.

He has got a breed from Maida, of which I gave him a puppy. There was a
great crowd at the Palazzo, which all persons attended, being the King's
birthday. The apartments are magnificent, and the various kinds of
persons who came to pay court were splendid. I went with the boys as
Brigadier-General of the Archers' Guard, wore a very decent green
uniform, laced at the cuffs, and pantaloons, and looked as well as sixty
could make it out when sworded and feathered _comme il faut_. I passed
well enough. Very much afraid of a fall on the slippery floor, but
escaped that disgrace. The ceremony was very long. I was introduced to
many distinguished persons, and, but for the want of language, got on
well enough. The King spoke to me about five minutes, of which I hardly
understood five words. I answered him in a speech of the same length,
and I'll be bound equally unintelligible. We made the general key-tone
of the harangue _la belle langue et le beau ciel_ of _sa majesté_. Very
fine dresses, very many diamonds....

A pretty Spanish ambassadress, Countess da Costa, and her husband. Saw
the Countess de Lebzeltern, who has made our acquaintance, and seems to
be very clever. I will endeavour to see her again. Introduced to another
Russian Countess of the diplomacy. Got from Court about two o'clock. I
should have mentioned that I had a letter from Skene[508] and one from
Cadell, dated as far back as 2d December, a monstrous time ago, [which]
yet puts a period to my anxiety. I have written to Cadell for
particulars and supplies, and, besides, have written a great many pages
of the Siege of Malta, which I think will succeed.

[_January_ 16-23].--I think £200 a month, or thereby, will do very well,
and it is no great advance.

Another piece of intelligence was certainly to be expected, but now it
has come afflicts us much. Poor Johnny Lockhart! The boy is gone whom we
have made so much of. I could not have borne it better than I now do,
and I might have borne it much worse.[509]

       *       *       *       *       *

I went one evening to the Opera to see that amusement in its birthplace,
which is now so widely received over Europe. The Opera House is superb,
but can seldom be quite full. On this night, however, it was; the
guards, citizens, and all persons dependent on the Court, or having
anything to win or lose by it, are expected to take places liberally,
and applaud with spirit. The King bowed much on entrance, and was
received in a popular manner, which he has no doubt deserved, having
relaxed many of his father's violent persecutions against the Liberals,
made in some degree an amnesty, and employed many of this character. He
has made efforts to lessen his expenses; but then he deals in military
affairs, and that swallows up his savings, and Heaven only knows whether
he will bring [Neapolitans] to fight, which the Martinet system alone
will never do. His health is undermined by epileptic fits, which, with
his great corpulence, make men throw their thoughts on his brother
Prince Charles. It is a pity. The King is only two-and-twenty years old.

The Opera bustled off without any remarkable music, and, so far as I
understand the language, no poetry; and except the _coup d'œil,_ which
was magnificent, it was poor work. It was on the subject of Constantine
and Crispus--marvellous good matter, I assure you. I came home at
half-past nine, without waiting the ballet, but I was dog-sick of the
whole of it. Went to the Studij to-day. I had no answer to my memorial
to the Minister of the Interior, which it seems is necessary to make any
copies from the old romances. I find it is an affair of State, and
Monsieur ----- can only hope it will be granted in two or three
days;--to a man that may leave Naples to-morrow! He offers me a loan of
what books I need, Annals included, but this is also a delay of two or
three days. I think really the Italian men of letters do not know the
use of time made by those of other places, but I must have patience. In
the course of my return home I called, by advice of my _valet de place_,
at a bookseller's, where he said all the great messieurs went for books.
It had very little the air of a place of such resort, being kept in a
garret above a coach-house. Here some twenty or thirty odd volumes were
produced by an old woman, but nothing that was mercantile, so I left
them for Lorenzo's learned friends. And yet I was sorry too, for the
lady who showed them to me was very [civil], and, understanding that I
was the famous Chevalier, carried her kindness as far as I could desire.
The Italians understand nothing of being in a hurry, but perhaps it is
their way.[510]

_January_ 24.--The King grants the favour asked. To be perfect I should
have the books [out] of the room, but this seems to [hurt?] Monsieur
Delicteriis as he, kind and civil as he is, would hardly [allow] me to
take my labours out of the Studij, where there are hosts of idlers and
echoes and askers and no understanders of askers. I progress, however,
as the Americans say. I have found that Sir William Gell's amanuensis
is at present disengaged, and that he is quite the man for copying the
romances, which is a plain black letter of 1377, at the cheap and easy
rate of 3 _quattrons_ a day. I am ashamed at the lowness of the
remuneration, but it will dine him capitally, with a share of a bottle
of wine, or, by 'r lady, a whole one if he likes it; and thrice the sum
would hardly do that in England. But we dawdle, and that there is no
avoiding. I have found another object in the Studij--the language of
Naples.

_Jany_. 2[5?].--One work in this dialect, for such it is, was described
to me as a history of ancient Neapolitan legends--_quite in my way_; and
it proves to be a dumpy fat 12mo edition of Mother Goose's Tales,[511]
with my old friends Puss in Boots, Bluebeard, and almost the whole stock
of this very collection. If this be the original of this charming book,
it is very curious, for it shows the right of Naples to the authorship,
but there are French editions very early also;--for there are
two--whether French or Italian, I am uncertain--of different dates, both
having claims to the original edition, each omitting some tales which
the other has.

To what common original we are to refer them the Lord knows. I will look
into [this] very closely, and if this same copiator is worth his ears he
can help me. My friend Mr. D. will aid me, but I doubt he hardly likes
my familiarity with the department of letters in which he has such an
extensive and valuable charge. Yet he is very kind and civil, and
promises me the loan of a Neapolitan vocabulary, which will set me up
for the attack upon Mother Goose. Spirit of Tom Thumb assist me! I
could, I think, make a neat thing of this, obnoxious to ridicule
perhaps;--what then! The author of _Ma Sœur Anne_ was a clever man, and
his tale will remain popular in spite of all gibes and flouts soever. So
_Vamos Caracci_! If it was not for the trifling and dawdling peculiar
to this country, I should have time enough, but their trifling with time
is the devil. I will try to engage Mr. Gell in two researches in his way
and more in mine, namely, the Andrea Ferrara and the Bonnet piece.[512]
Mr. Keppel Craven says Andrea de Ferraras[513] are frequent in Italy.
Plenty to do if we had alert assistance, but Gell and Laing Meason have
both their own matters to puzzle out, and why should they mind my
affairs? The weather is very cold, and I am the reverse of the idiot
boy--

    "For as my body's growing worse,
    My mind is growing better."[514]

Of this I am distinctly sensible, and thank God that the mist attending
this whoreson apoplexy is wearing off.

I went to the Studij and copied Bevis of Hampton, about two pages, for a
pattern. From thence to Sir William Gell, and made an appointment at the
Studij with his writer to-morrow at ten, when, I trust, I shall find
Delicteriis there, but the gentleman with the classical name is rather
kind and friendly in his neighbour's behalf.[515]

_January_ 26.--This day arrived (for the first time indeed) answer to
last post end of December, an epistle from Cadell full of good
tidings.[516] _Castle Dangerous_ and _Sir Robert of Paris_, neither of
whom I deemed seaworthy, have performed two voyages--that is, each sold
about 3400, and the same of the current year. It proves what I have
thought almost impossible, that I might write myself [out], but as yet
my spell holds fast.

I have besides two or three good things on which I may advance with
spirit, and with palmy hopes on the part of Cadell and myself. He thinks
he will soon cry _victoria_ on the bet about his hat. He was to get a
new one when I had paid off all my debts. I can hardly, now that I am
assured all is well again, form an idea to myself that I could think it
was otherwise.

And yet I think it is the public that are mad for passing those two
volumes; but I will not be the first to cry them down in the market, for
I have others in hand, which, judged with equal favour, will make
fortunes of themselves. Let me see what I have on the stocks--

Castle Dangerous (supposed future Editions), £1000
Robert of Paris,      "      "        "       1000
Lady Louisa Stuart,   "      "        "        500
Knights of Malta,     "      "        "       2500
Trotcosianæ Reliquiæ,        "        "       2500

I have returned to my old hopes, and think of giving Milne an offer for
his estate.[517]

Letters or Tour of Paul in 3 vols.            3000
Reprint of Bevis of Hampton for Roxburghe Club,
Essay on the Neapolitan dialect,

FOOTNOTES:

[507] Sir William Gell styles him "Archbishop," and adds that at this
time he was in his ninetieth year. Can this prelate be Rogers's "Good
Old Cardinal," who told the pleasant tale of the _Bag of Gold_, and is
immortalised by the pencil of Landseer seated at table _en famille_ with
three of his velvet favourites? See _Italy_, fcp. 8vo, 1838, p. 302.

[508] This is the last notice in the Journal by Sir Walter of his dear
friend. James Skene of Rubislaw died at Frewen Hall, Oxford, in 1864, in
his ninetieth year. His faculties remained unimpaired throughout his
serene and beautiful old age, until the end was very near--then, one
evening his daughter found him with a look of inexpressible delight on
his face, when he said to her "I have had such a great pleasure! Scott
has been here--he came from a long distance to see me, he has been
sitting with me at the fireside talking over our happy recollections of
the past...." Two or three days later he followed his well loved friend
into the unseen world--gently and calmly like a child falling asleep he
passed away in perfect peace.

[509] John Hugh Lockhart died December 15, 1831.

[510] Sir W. Gell relates that an old English manuscript of the Romance
of Sir Bevis of Hampton, existing in Naples, had attracted Scott's
attention, and he resolved to make a copy of it.

The transcript is now in the Library at Abbotsford, under the title,
_Old English Romances_, transcribed from MSS. in the Royal Library at
Naples, by Sticchini, 2 vols. sm. 8vo.

[511] See Appendix v. for Mr. Andrew Lang's letter on this subject.

[512] The forty-shilling gold piece coined by James V. of Scotland.

[513] Sword-blades of peculiar excellence bearing the name of this maker
have been known in Scotland since the reign of James IV.

[514] Altered from Wordsworth.

[515] The editor of _Reliquiæ Antiquæ_ (2 vols. 8vo, London, 1843),
writing ten years after this visit, says, that "The Chevalier de
Licteriis [Chief Librarian in the Royal Library] showed him the
manuscript, and well remembered his drawing Sir Walter's attention to it
in 1832."

[516] Sir W. Gell records that on the morning he received the good news
he called upon him and said he felt quite relieved by his letters, and
added, "I could never have slept straight in my coffin till I had
satisfied every claim against me; and now," turning to a favourite dog
that was with them in the carriage he said, "My poor boy, I shall have
my house and my estate round it free, and I may keep my dogs as big and
as many as I choose without fear of reproach."--_Life_, vol. X. p. 160.

[517] Viz, Faldonside, an estate adjacent to Abbotsford which Scott had
long wished to possess. As far back as November 1817 he wrote a friend:
"My neighbour, Nicol Milne, is mighty desirous I should buy, at a mighty
high rate, some land between me and the lake which lies mighty
convenient, but I am mighty determined to give nothing more than the
value, so that it is likely to end like the old proverb, _Ex Nichilo
Nichil fit_."




FEBRUARY.


_February_ 10.--We went to Pompeii to-day: a large party, all disposed
to enjoy the sight in this fine weather. We had Sir Frederick and Lady
Adam, Sir William Gell, the coryphæus of our party, who played his part
very well. Miss de la Ferronays,[518] daughter of Monsieur le Duc de la
Ferronays, the head, I believe, of the constitutional Royalists, very
popular in France, and likely to be called back to the ministry, with
two or three other ladies, particularly Mrs. Ashley, born Miss
Baillie,[519] very pretty indeed, and lives in the same house. The
Countess de la Ferronays has a great deal of talent both musical and
dramatic.

_February_ 16.--Sir William Gell called and took me out to-night to a
bookseller whose stock was worth looking over.

We saw, among the old buildings of the city, an ancient palace called
the Vicaría, which is changed into a prison. Then a new palace was
honoured with royal residence instead of the old dungeon. I saw also a
fine arch called the Capuan gate, formerly one of the city towers, and a
very pretty one. We advanced to see the ruins of a palace said to be a
habitation of Queen Joan, and where she put her lovers to death chiefly
by potions, thence into a well, smothering them, etc., and other little
tenderly trifling matters of gallantry.

FOOTNOTES:

[518] Probably _Pauline_; married to Hon. Augustus Craven, and author of
_Récit d'une Sœur_.

[519] Daughter of Colonel Hugh Duncan Baillie, of Tarradale and
Redcastle.




MARCH.


_March_.--Embarked on an excursion to Paestum, with Sir William Gell and
Mr. Laing-Meason, in order to see the fine ruins. We went out by
Pompeii, which we had visited before, and which fully maintains its
character as one of the most striking pieces of antiquity, where the
furniture treasure and household are preserved in the excavated houses,
just as found by the labourers appointed by Government. The inside of
the apartments is adorned with curious paintings, if I may call them
such, in mosaic. A meeting between Darius and Alexander is remarkably
fine.[520] A street, called the street of Tombs, reaches a considerable
way out of the city, having been flanked by tombs on each side as the
law directed. The entrance into the town affords an interesting picture
of the private life of the Romans. We came next to the vestiges of
Herculaneum, which is destroyed like Pompeii but by the lava or molten
stone, which cannot be removed, whereas the tufa or volcanic ashes can
be with ease removed from Pompeii, which it has filled up lightly. After
having refreshed in a cottage in the desolate town, we proceed on our
journey eastward, flanked by one set of heights stretching from
Vesuvius, and forming a prolongation of that famous mountain. Another
chain of mountains seems to intersect our course in an opposite
direction and descends upon the town of Castellamare. Different from the
range of heights which is prolonged from Vesuvius, this second, which
runs to Castellamare, is entirely composed of granite, and, as is always
the case with mountains of this formation, betrays no trace of volcanic
agency. Its range was indeed broken and split up into specimens of rocks
of most romantic appearance and great variety, displaying granite rock
as the principal part of its composition. The country on which these
hills border is remarkable for its powers of vegetation, and produces
vast groves of vine, elm, chestnut, and similar trees, which grow when
stuck in by cuttings. The vines produce Lacryma Christi in great
quantities--not a bad wine, though the stranger requires to be used to
it. The sea-shore of the Bay of Naples forms the boundary on the right
of the country through which our journey lies, and we continue to
approach to the granite chain of eminences which stretch before us, as
if to bar our passage.

As we advanced to meet the great barrier of cliffs, a feature becomes
opposed to us of a very pronounced character, which seems qualified to
interrupt our progress. A road leading straight across the branch of
hills is carried up the steepest part of the mountain, ascending by a
succession of zig-zags, which the French laid by scale straight up the
hill. The tower is situated upon an artificial eminence, worked to a
point and placed in a defensible position between two hills about the
same height, the access to which the defenders of the pass could
effectually prohibit.

Sir William Gell, whose knowledge of the antiquities of this country is
extremely remarkable, acquainted us with the history.

In the middle ages the pasturages on the slope of these hills,
especially on the other side, belonged to the rich republic of Amain,
who built this tower as an exploratory gazeeboo from which they could
watch the motions of the Saracens who were wont to annoy them with
plundering excursions; but after this fastness [was built] the people of
Amalfi usually defeated and chastised them. The ride over the opposite
side of the mountain was described as so uncommonly pleasant as made me
long to ride it with assistance of a pony. That, however, was
impossible. We arrived at a country house, near a large town situated in
a ravine or hollow, which was called La Cava from some concavities which
it exhibited.

We were received by Miss Whyte, an English lady who has settled at La
Cava, and she afforded us the warmest hospitality that is consistent
with a sadly cold chilling house. They may say what they like of the
fine climate of Naples--unquestionably they cannot say too much in its
favour, but yet when a day or two of cold weather does come, the
inhabitants are without the means of parrying the temporary inclemency,
which even a Scotsman would scorn to submit to. However, warm or cold,
to bed we went, and rising next morning at seven we left La Cava, and,
making something like a sharp turn backwards, but keeping nearer to the
Gulf of Salerno than in yesterday's journey, and nearer to its shore. We
had a good road towards Paestum, and in defiance of a cold drizzling day
we went on at a round pace. The country through which we travelled was
wooded and stocked with wild animals towards the fall of the hills, and
we saw at a nearer distance a large swampy plain, pastured by a
singularly bizarre but fierce-looking buffalo, though it might maintain
a much preferable stock. This palace of Barranco was anciently kept up
for the King's sport, but any young man having a certain degree of
interest is allowed to share in the chase, which it is no longer an
object to preserve. The guest, however, if he shoots a deer, or a
buffalo, or wild boar, must pay the keeper at a certain fixed price, not
much above its price in the market, which a sportsman would hardly think
above its worth for game of his own killing. The town of Salerno is a
beautiful seaport town, and it is, as it were, wrapt in an Italian cloak
hanging round the limbs, or, to speak common sense, the new streets
which they are rebuilding. We made no stop at Salerno, but continued to
traverse the great plain of that name, within sight of the sea, which is
chiefly pastured by that queer-looking brute, the buffalo, concerning
which they have a notion that it returns its value sooner, and with less
expense of feeding, than any other animal.

At length we came to two streams which join their forces, and would seem
to flow across the plain to the bottom of the hills. One, however, flows
so flat as almost scarcely to move, and sinking into a kind of stagnant
pool is swallowed up by the earth, without proceeding any further until,
after remaining buried for two or three [miles?] underground, it again
bursts forth to the light, and resumes its course. When we crossed this
stream by a bridge, which they are now repairing, we entered a spacious
plain, very like that which we had [left] and displaying a similar rough
and savage cultivation. Here savage herds were under the guardianship of
shepherds as wild as they were themselves, clothed in a species of
sheepskins, and carrying a sharp spear with which they herd and
sometimes kill their buffaloes. Their farmhouses are in very poor order,
and with every mark of poverty, and they have the character of being
moved to dishonesty by anything like opportunity; of this there was a
fatal instance, but so well avenged that it is not like to be repeated
till it has long faded out of memory. The story, I am assured, happened
exactly as follows:--A certain Mr. Hunt, lately married to a lady of his
own age, and, seeming to have had what is too often the Englishman's
characteristic of more money than wit, arrived at Naples a year or two
ago _en famille_, and desirous of seeing all the sights in the vicinity
of this celebrated place. Among others Paestum was not forgot. At one of
the poor farmhouses where they stopped, the inhabitant set her eyes on
a toilet apparatus which was composed of silver and had the appearance
of great value. The woman who spread this report addressed herself to a
youth who had been [under] arms, and undoubtedly he and his companions
showed no more hesitation than the person with whom the idea had
originated. Five fellows, not known before this time for any particular
evil, agreed to rob the English gentleman of the treasure of which he
had made such an imprudent display. They were attacked by the banditti
in several parties, but the principal attack was directed to Mr. Hunt's
carriage, a servant of that gentleman being, as well as himself, pulled
out of the carriage and watched by those who had undertaken to conduct
this bad deed. The man who had been the soldier, probably to keep up his
courage, began to bully, talk violently, and strike the _valet de
place_, who screamed out in a plaintive manner, "Do not injure me." His
master, hoping to make some impression, said, "Do not hurt my servant,"
to which the principal brigand replied, "If he dares to resist, shoot
him." The man who stood over Mr. Hunt unfortunately took the captain at
the word, and his shot mortally wounded the unfortunate gentleman and
his wife, who both died next day at our landlady's, Miss Whyte, who had
the charity to receive them that they might hear their own language on
their deathbed. The Neapolitan Government made the most uncommon
exertions. The whole of the assassins were taken within a fortnight, and
executed within a week afterwards. In this wild spot, rendered
unpleasing by the sad remembrance of so inhuman an accident, and the
cottages which served for refuge for so wretched and wild a people,
exist the celebrated ruins of Paestum. Being without arms of any kind,
the situation was a dreary one, and though I can scarce expect now to
defend myself effectually, yet the presence of [_illegible_] would have
been an infinite cordial. The ruins are of very great antiquity, which
for a very long time has not been suspected, as it was never supposed
that the Sybarites, a luxurious people, were early possessed of a style
of architecture simple, chaste, and inconceivably grand, which was lost
before the time of Augustus, who is said by Suetonius to have undertaken
a journey on purpose to visit these remains of an architecture, the most
simple and massive of which Italy at least has any other specimen. The
Greeks have specimens of the same kind, but they are composed not of
stone, like Paestum, but of marble. All this has been a discovery of
recent date. The ruins, which exist without exhibiting much demolition,
are three in number. The first is a temple of immense size, having a
portico of the largest columns of the most awful species of classic
architecture. The roof, which was composed of immense stones, was
destroyed, but there are remains of the Cella, contrived for the
sacrifices to which the priests and persons of high office were alone
[admitted].

A piece of architecture more massive, without being cumbrous or heavy,
was never invented by a mason.

A second temple in the same style was dedicated to Ceres as the large
one was to Neptune, on whose dominion they looked, and who was the
tutelar deity of Paestum, and so called from one of his Greek names. The
fane of Ceres is finished with the greatest accuracy and beauty of
proportion and taste, and in looking upon it I forgot all the unpleasant
feelings which at first oppressed me. The third was not a temple, but a
Basilica, or species of town-house, as it was called, having a third row
of pillars running up the middle, between the two which surrounded the
sides, and were common to the Basilica and temple both. These surprising
public edifices have therefore all a resemblance to each other, though
also points of distinction. If Sir William Gell makes clear his theory
he will throw a most precious light on the origin of civilisation,
proving that the sciences have not sprung at once into light and life,
but rose gradually with extreme purity, and continued to be practised
best by those who first invented them. Full of these reflections, we
returned to our hospitable Miss Whyte in a drizzling evening, but
unassassinated, and our hearts completely filled with the magnificence
of what we had seen. Miss Whyte had in the meanwhile, by her interest at
La Trinità with the Abbot, obtained us permission to pay a visit to him,
and an invitation indeed to dinner, which only the weather and the
health of Sir William Gell and myself prevented our accepting. After
breakfast, therefore, on the 18th of March, we set out for the convent,
situated about two or three miles from the town in a very large ravine,
not unlike the bed of the Rosslyn river, and traversed by roads which
from their steepness and precipitancy are not at all laudable, but the
views were beautiful and changing incessantly, while the spring
advancing was spreading her green mantle over rock and tree, and making
that beautiful which was lately a blighted and sterile thicket. The
convent of Trinità itself holds a most superb situation on the
projection of an ample rock. It is a large edifice, but not a handsome
one--the monks reserving their magnificence for their churches--but was
surrounded by a circuit of fortifications, which, when there was need,
were manned by the vassals of the convent in the style of the Feudal
system. This was in some degree the case at the present day. The Abbot,
a gentlemanlike and respectable-looking man, attended by several of his
monks, received us with the greatest politeness, and conducted us to the
building, where we saw two great sculptured vases, or more properly
sarcophagi, of [marble?], well carved in the antique style, and adorned
with the story of Meleager. They were in the shape of a large bath, and
found, I think, at Paestum. The old church had passed to decay about a
hundred years ago, when the present fabric was built; it is very
beautifully arranged, and worthy of the place, which is eminently
beautiful, and of the community, who are Benedictines--the most
gentlemanlike order in the Roman Church.

We were conducted to the private repertory of the chapel, which contains
a number of interesting deeds granted by sovereigns of the Grecian,
Norman, and even Saracen descent. One from Roger, king of Sicily,
extended His Majesty's protection to some half dozen men of consequence
whose names attested their Saracenism.

In all the society I have been since I commenced this tour, I chiefly
regretted on the present occasion the not having refreshed my Italian
for the purpose of conversation. I should like to have conversed with
the Churchmen very much, and they seem to have the same inclination, but
it is too late to be thought of, though I could read Italian well once.
The church might boast of a grand organ, with fifty-seven stops, all
which we heard played by the ingenious organist. We then returned to
Miss Whyte's for the evening, ate a mighty dinner, and battled cold
weather as we might.

In further remarks on Paestum I may say there is a city wall in
wonderful preservation, one of the gates of which is partly entire and
displays the figure of a Syren under the architrave, but the antiquity
of the sculpture is doubted, though not that of the inner part of the
gate--so at least thinks Sir William, our best authority on such
matters. Many antiquities have been, and many more probably will be,
discovered. Paestum is a place which adds dignity to the peddling trade
of the ordinary antiquarian.

_March_ 19.--This morning we set off at seven for Naples; we observed
remains of an aqueduct in a narrow, apparently designed for the purpose
of leading water to La Cava, but had no time to conjecture on the
subject, and took our road back to Pompeii, and passed through two towns
of the same name, Nocera dei [Cristiani] and Nocera dei Pagani.[521] In
the latter village the Saracens obtained a place of refuge, from which
it takes the name. It is also said that the circumstance is kept in
memory by the complexion and features of this second Nocera, which are
peculiarly of the African caste and tincture. After we passed Pompeii,
where the continued severity of the weather did not permit us, according
to our purpose, to take another survey, we saw in the adjacent village
between us and Portici the scene of two assassinations, still kept in
remembrance. The one I believe was from the motive of plunder. The head
of the assassin was set up after his execution upon a pillar, which
still exists, and it remained till the skull rotted to pieces. The other
was a story less in the common style, and of a more interesting
character:--A farmer of an easy fortune, and who might be supposed to
leave to his daughter, a very pretty girl and an only child, a fortune
thought in the village very considerable. She was, under the hope of
sharing such a prize, made up to by a young man in the neighbourhood,
handsome, active, and of a very good general character. He was of that
sort of person who are generally successful among women, and the girl
was supposed to have encouraged his addresses; but her father, on being
applied to, gave him a direct and positive refusal. The gallant resolved
to continue his addresses in hopes of overcoming this obstacle by his
perseverance, but the father's opposition seemed only to increase by the
lover's pertinacity. At length, as the father walked one evening smoking
his pipe upon the terrace before his door, the lover unhappily passed
by, and, struck with the instant thought that the obstacle to the
happiness of his life was now entirely in his own power, he rushed upon
the father, pierced him with three mortal stabs of his knife, and killed
him dead on the spot, and made his escape to the mountains. What was
most remarkable was that he was protected against the police, who went,
as was their duty, in quest of him, by the inhabitants of the
neighbourhood, who afforded him both shelter and such food as he
required, looking on him less as a wilful criminal than an unfortunate
man, who had been surprised by a strong and almost irresistible
temptation. So congenial, at this moment, is the love of vengeance to an
Italian bosom, and though chastised in general by severe punishment, so
much are criminals sympathised with by the community.

_March_ 20.--I went with Miss Talbot and Mr. Lushington and his sister
to the great and celebrated church of San Domenico Maggiore, which is
the most august of the Dominican churches. They once possessed eighteen
shrines in this part of Naples. It contains the tomb of St. Thomas
Aquinas, and also the tombs of the royal family, which remain in the
vestry. There are some large boxes covered with yellow velvet which
contain their remains, and which stand ranged on a species of shelf,
formed by the heads of a set of oaken presses which contain the
vestments of the monks. The pictures of the kings are hung above their
respective boxes, containing their bones, without any other means of
preserving them. At the bottom of the lofty and narrow room is the
celebrated Marquis di [Pescara], one of Charles V.'s most renowned
generals, who commanded at the battle of Pavia.... The church itself is
very large and extremely handsome, with many fine marble tombs in a very
good style of architecture. The time being now nearly the second week in
Lent, the church was full of worshippers.

     [While at Naples Sir Walter wrote frequently to his daughter, to
     Mr. Cadell, Mr. Laidlaw, and Mr. Lockhart. The latter says, "Some
     of these letters were of a very melancholy cast; for the dream
     about his debts being all settled was occasionally broken." One may
     be given here. It is undated, but was written some time after
     receiving the news of the death of his little grandson, and shows
     the tender relations which existed between Sir Walter and his
     son-in-law:--

     MY DEAR LOCKHART,--I have written with such regularity that ... I
     will not recur to this painful subject. I hope also I have found
     you both persuaded that the best thing you can do, both of you, is
     to come out here, where you would find an inestimable source of
     amusement, many pleasant people, and living in very peaceful and
     easy society. I wrote you a full account of my own matters, but I
     have now more complete [information]. I am ashamed, for the first
     time in my life, of the two novels, but since the pensive public
     have taken them, there is no more to be said but to eat my pudding
     and to hold my tongue. Another thing of great interest requires to
     be specially mentioned. You may remember a work in which our dear
     and accomplished friend Lady Louisa condescended to take an oar,
     and which she has handled most admirably. It is a supposed set of
     extracts relative to James VI. from a collection in James VI.'s
     time, the costume (?) admirably preserved, and, like the
     fashionable wigs, more natural than one's own hair. This, with the
     Lives of the Novelists and some other fragments of my wreck, went
     ashore in Constable's, and were sold off to the highest bidder,
     viz., to Cadell, for himself and me. I wrote one or two fragments
     in the same style, which I wish should, according to original
     intention, appear without a name, and were they fairly lightly let
     off there is no fear of their making a blaze. I sent the whole
     packet either to yourself or Cadell, with the request. The copy,
     which I conclude is in your hands by the time this reaches you,
     might be set up as speedily and quietly as possible, taking some
     little care to draw the public attention to you, and consulting
     Lady Louisa about the proofs. The fun is that our excellent friend
     had forgot the whole affair till I reminded her of her kindness,
     and was somewhat inclined, like Lady Teazle, to deny the butler and
     the coach-horse. I have no doubt, however, she will be disposed to
     bring the matter to an end. The mode of publication I fancy you
     will agree should rest with Cadell. So, providing that the copy
     come to hand, which it usually does, though not very regularly, you
     will do me the kindness to get it out. My story of Malta will be
     with you by the time you have finished the Letters, and if it
     succeeds it will in a great measure enable me to attain the long
     projected and very desirable object of clearing me from all old
     encumbrances and expiring as rich a man as I could desire in my own
     freehold. And when you recollect that this has been wrought out in
     six years, the sum amounting to at least £120,000, it is somewhat
     of a novelty in literature. I shall be as happy and rich as I
     please for the last days of my life, and play the good papa with
     my family without thinking on pounds, shillings, and pence. Cadell,
     with so fair a prospect before him, is in high spirits, as you will
     suppose, but I had a most uneasy time from the interruption of our
     correspondence. However, thank God, it is all as well as I could
     wish, and a great deal better than I ventured to hope. After the
     Siege of Malta I intend to close the [series] of _Waverley_ with a
     poem in the style of the _Lay_, or rather of the _Lady of the
     Lake_, to be a L'Envoy, or final postscript to these tales. The
     subject is a curious tale of chivalry belonging to Rhodes. Sir
     Frederick Adam will give me a cast of a steam-boat to visit Greece,
     and you will come and go with me. We live in a Palazzo, which with
     a coach and the supporters thereof does not, table included, cost
     £120 or £130 a month. So you will add nothing to our expenses, but
     give us the great pleasure of assisting you when I fear literary
     things have a bad time. We will return to Europe through Germany,
     and see what peradventure we shall behold. I have written
     repeatedly to you on this subject, for you would really like this
     country extremely. You cannot tread on it but you set your foot
     upon some ancient history, and you cannot make scruple, as it is
     the same thing whether you or I are paymaster. My health continues
     good, and bettering, as the Yankees say. I have gotten a choice
     manuscript of old English Romances, left here by Richard, and for
     which I know I have got a lad can copy them at a shilling a day.
     The King has granted me liberty to carry it home with me, which is
     very good-natured. I expect to secure something for the Roxburghe
     Club. Our posts begin to get more regular. I hope dear baby is
     getting better of its accident, poor soul.--Love to Sophia and
     Walter.

     Your affectionate Father,

     WALTER SCOTT.]

FOOTNOTES:

[520] Of this visit to Pompeii Sir W. Gell says--"Sir Walter viewed the
whole with a poet's eye, not that of an antiquarian, exclaiming
frequently, 'The city of the Dead!'"

He examined, however, with more interest the "splendid mosaic
representing a combat of the Greeks and the Persians."--_Life_, vol. x.
p. 159.

[521] The places are now known as Nocera Superiore and Nocera Inferiore.




APRIL.


_April 15, Naples_.--I am on the eve of leaving Naples after a residence
of three or four months, my strength strongly returning, though the
weather has been very uncertain. What with the interruption occasioned
by the cholera and other inconveniences, I have not done much. I have
sent home only the letters by L.L. Stuart and three volumes of the Siege
of Malta. I sent them by Lord Cowper's son--Mr. Cowper returning, his
leave being out--and two chests of books by the Messrs. Turner, Malta,
who are to put them on board a vessel, to be forwarded to Mr. Cadell
through Whittaker. I have hopes they will come to hand safe. I have
bought a small closing carriage, warranted new and English, cost me
£200, for the convenience of returning home. It carries Anne, Charles,
and the two servants, and we start to-morrow morning for Rome, after
which we shall be starting homeward, for the Greek scheme is blown up,
as Sir Frederick Adam is said to be going to Madras, so he will be
unable to send a frigate as promised. I have spent on the expenses of
medical persons and books, etc., a large sum, yet not excessive.

Meantime we [may] have to add a curious journey of it. The brigands, of
whom there are so many stories, are afloat once more, and many carriages
stopped. A curious and popular work would be a history of these
ruffians. Washington Irving has attempted something of the kind, but
the person attempting this should be an Italian, perfectly acquainted
with his country, character, and manners. Mr. R----, an apothecary, told
me a singular [occurrence] which happened in Calabria about six years
ago, and which I may set down just now as coming from a respectable
authority, though I do not [vouch it].

       *       *       *       *       *

DEATH OF IL BIZARRO.

This man was called, from his wily but inexorable temper, Il Bizarro,
_i.e._ the Bizar. He was captain of a gang of banditti, whom he governed
by his own authority, till he increased them to 1000 men, both on foot
and horseback, whom he maintained in the mountains of Calabria, between
the French and Neapolitans, both of which he defied, and pillaged the
country. High rewards were set upon his head, to very little purpose, as
he took care to guard himself against being betrayed by his own gang,
the common fate of those banditti who become great in their vocation. At
length a French colonel, whose name I have forgot, occupied the country
of Bizarro, with such success that he formed a cordon around him and his
party, and included him between the folds of a military column.
Well-nigh driven to submit himself, the robber with his wife, a very
handsome woman, and a child of a few months old, took a position beneath
the arch of an old bridge, and, by an escape almost miraculous, were not
perceived by a strong party whom the French maintained on the top of the
arch. Night at length came without a discovery, which every moment might
have made. When it became quite dark, the brigand, enjoining strictest
silence on the female and child, resolved to steal from his place of
shelter, and as they issued forth, kept his hand on the child's throat.
But as, when they began to move, the child naturally cried, its father
in a rage stiffened his grip so relentlessly that the poor infant never
offended more in the same manner. This horrid [act] led to the
conclusion of the robber's life.

His wife had never been very fond of him, though he trusted her more
than any who approached him. She had been originally the wife of another
man, murdered by her second husband, which second marriage she was
compelled to undergo, and to affect at least the conduct of an
affectionate wife. In their wanderings she alone knew where he slept for
the night. He left his men in a body upon the top of an open hill, round
which they set watches. He then went apart into the woods with his wife,
and having chosen a glen--an obscure and deep thicket of the woods,
there took up his residence for the night. A large Calabrian sheepdog,
his constant attendant, was then tied to a tree at some distance to
secure his slumbers, and having placed his carabine within reach of his
lair, he consigned himself to such sleep as belongs to his calling. By
such precautions he had secured his rest for many years.

But after the death of the child, the measure of his offence towards the
unhappy mother was full to the brim, and her thoughts became determined
on revenge. One evening he took up his quarters for the night with these
precautions, but without the usual success. He had laid his carabine
near him, and betaken himself to rest as usual, when his partner arose
from his side, and ere he became sensible she had done so, she seized
[his carabine], and discharging [it] in his bosom, ended at once his
life and crimes. She finished her work by cutting off the brigand's
head, and carrying it to the principal town of the province, where she
delivered it to the police, and claimed the reward attached to his head,
which was paid accordingly. This female still lives, a stately,
dangerous-looking woman, yet scarce ill thought of, considering the
provocation.

The dog struggled extremely to get loose on hearing the shot. Some say
the female shot it; others that, in its rage, it very nearly gnawed
through the stout young tree to which it was tied. He was worthy of a
better master.

The distant encampment of the band was disturbed by the firing of the
Bizarro's carabine at midnight. They ran through the woods to seek the
captain, but finding him lifeless and headless, they became so much
surprised that many of them surrendered to the government, and
relinquished their trade, and the band of Bizarro, as it lived by his
ingenuity, broke up by his death.

A story is told nearly as horrible as the above, respecting the cruelty
of this bandit, which seems to entitle him to be called one of the most
odious wretches of his name. A French officer, who had been active in
the pursuit of him, fell into his hands, and was made to die [the death]
of Marsyas or Saint Polycarp--that is, the period being the middle of
summer, he was flayed alive, and, being smeared with honey, was exposed
to all the intolerable insects of a southern sky. The corps were also
informed where they might find their officer if they thought proper to
send for him. As more than two days elapsed before the wretched man was
found, nothing save his miserable relics could be discovered.

I do not warrant these stories, but such are told currently.

[_Tour from Naples to Rome_], _April_ 16.--Having remained several
months at Naples, we resolved to take a tour to Rome during the Holy
Week and view the ecclesiastical shows which take place, although
diminished in splendour by the Pope's poverty. So on the 15th we set out
from Naples, my children unwell. We passed through the Champ de
Mars,[522] and so on by the Terra di Lavoro, a rich and fertile country,
and breakfasted at St. Agatha, a wretched place, but we had a
disagreeable experience. I had purchased a travelling carriage, assured
that it was English-built and all that. However, when we were half a
mile on our journey, a bush started and a wheel came off, but by dint of
contrivances we fought our way back to Agatha, where we had a miserable
lodging and wretched dinner. The people were civil, however, and no
bandits abroad, being kept in awe by the escort of the King of
Westphalia,[523] who was on his road to Naples. The wheel was
effectually repaired, and at seven in the morning we started with some
apprehension of suffering from crossing the very moist marshes called
the Pontine Bogs, which lie between Naples and Rome. This is not the
time when these exhalations are most dangerous, though they seem to be
safe at no time. We remarked the celebrated Capua, which is
distinguished into the new and old. The new Capua is on the banks of the
river Volturno, which conducts its waters into the moats. It is still a
place of some strength in modern war. The approach to the old Capua is
obstructed by an ancient bridge of a singular construction, and consists
of a number of massive towers half ruined. We did not pass very near to
them, but the site seems very strong. We passed Sinuessa or Sessa, an
ancient Greek town, situated not far from shore. The road from Naples to
Capua resembles an orchard on both sides, but, alas! it runs through
these infernal marshes, which there is no shunning, and which the
example of many of my friends proves to be exceeding dangerous. The
road, though it has the appearance of winding among hills, is in fact,
on the left side, limited by the sea-coast running northward. It comes
into its more proper line at a celebrated sea-marsh called Cameria,[524]
concerning which the oracle said "_Ne moveas Camarinam_," and the
transgression of which precept brought on a pestilence. The road here
is a wild pass bounded by a rocky precipice; on one hand covered with
wild shrubs, flowers, and plants, and on the other by the sea. After
this we came to a military position, where Murat used to quarter a body
of troops and cannonade the English gunboats, which were not slow in
returning the compliment. The English then garrisoned Italy and Sicily
under Sir [John Stuart]. We supped at this place, half fitted up as a
barrack, half as an inn. (The place is now called Terracina.) Near this
a round tower is shown, termed the tomb of Cicero, which may be doubted.
I ought, before quitting Terracina, to have mentioned the view of the
town and castle of Gaeta from the Pass. It is a castle of great
strength. I should have mentioned Aversa, remarkable for a house for
insane persons, on the humane plan of not agitating their passions.
After a long pilgrimage on this beastly road we fell asleep in spite of
warnings to the contrary, and before we beat the _reveille_ were within
twenty miles of the city of Rome. I think I felt the effects of the bad
air and damp in a very bad headache.

After a steep climb up a slippery ill-paved road Velletri received us,
and accommodated us in an ancient villa or château, the original
habitation of an old noble. I would have liked much to have taken a look
at it; but I am tired by my ride. I fear my time for such researches is
now gone. Monte Albano, a pleasant place, should also be mentioned,
especially a forest of grand oaks, which leads you pretty directly into
the vicinity of Rome. My son Charles had requested the favour of our
friend Sir William Gell to bespeak a lodging, which, considering his bad
health, was scarcely fair. My daughter had imposed the same favour, but
they had omitted to give precise direction how to correspond with their
friends concerning the execution of their commission. So there we were,
as we had reason to think, possessed of two apartments and not knowing
the [way] to any of them. We entered Rome by a gate[525] renovated by
one of the old Pontiffs, but which, I forget, and so paraded the streets
by moonlight to discover, if possible, some appearance of the learned
Sir William Gell or the pretty Mrs. Ashley. At length we found our old
servant who guided us to the lodgings taken by Sir William Gell, where
all was comfortable, a good fire included, which our fatigue and the
chilliness of the night required. We dispersed as soon as we had taken
some food, wine, and water.

We slept reasonably, but on the next morning


FINIS

FOOTNOTES:

[522] _Paese dei Marsi_ or _Marsica_.

[523] Jerome Bonaparte, ex-King of Westphalia.

[524] The sea marsh "Cameria" is not indicated in the latest maps of
Italy, but it would appear that some such name in the Pontine Bogs had
recalled to Sir Walter the ancient proverb relating to Camarina, that
Sicilian city on the marsh "which Fate forbad to drain."--Conington's
_Virgil (Æn._ iii. 700-1).

[525] Porta St. Giovanni, rebuilt by Gregory XIII. in 1574.




APPENDIX

No. II.

    _Letter from Mr. Carlyle referred to in_ vol. ii. p. 160.[526]

     EDINBURGH, 21 COMELY BANK, _13th April_ 1828.

SIR,--In February last I had the honour to receive a letter from Von
Goethe, announcing the speedy departure, from Weimar, of a Packet for
me, in which, among other valuables, should be found "two medals," to be
delivered "_mit verbindlichsten Grüssen"_ to Sir Walter Scott. By a slow
enough conveyance this _Kästchen_, with its medals in perfect safety,
has at length yesterday come to hand, and now lays on me the enviable
duty of addressing you.

Among its multifarious contents, the Weimar Box failed not to include a
long letter--considerable portion of which, as it virtually belongs to
yourself, you will now allow me to transcribe. Perhaps it were thriftier
in me to reserve this for another occasion; but considering how seldom
such a Writer obtains such a Critic, I cannot but reckon it pity that
this friendly intercourse between them should be anywise delayed.

     "Sehen Sie Herrn Walter Scott, so sagen Sie ihm auf das
     verbindlichste in meinem Namen Dank für den lieben heitern Brief,
     gerade in dem schönen Sinne geschrieben, dass der Mensch dem
     Menschen werth seyn müsse. So auch habe ich dessen Leben Napoleon's
     erhalten und solches in diesen Winterabenden und Nächten von Anfang
     bis zu Ende mit Aufmerksamkeit durchgelesen.

     "Mir war höchst bedeutend zu sehen, wie sich der erste Erzähler des
     Jahrhunderts einem so ungemeinen Geschäft unterzieht und uns die
     überwichtigen Begebenheiten, deren Zeuge zu seyn wir gezwungen
     wurden, in fertigem Zuge vorüberführt. Die Abtheilung durch Capitel
     in grosse zusammengehörige Massen giebt den verschlungenen
     Ereignissen die reinste Fasslichkeit, und so wird dann auch der
     Vortrag des Einzelnen auf das unschätzbarste deutlich und
     anschaulich.

     "Ich las es im Original, und da wirkte es ganz eigentlich seiner
     Natur nach. Es ist ein patriotischer Britte der spricht, der die
     Handlungen des Feindes nicht wohl mit günstigen Augen ansehen kann,
     der als ein rechtlicher Staatsbürger zugleich mit den
     Unternehmungen der Politik auch die Forderungen der Sittlichkeit
     befriedigt wünscht, der den Gegner, im frechen Laufe des Glücks,
     mit unseligen Folgen bedroht, und auch im bittersten Verfall ihn
     kaum bedauern kann.

     "Und so war mir noch ausserdem das Werk von der grössten Bedeutung,
     indem es mich an das Miterlebte theils erinnerte, theils mir
     manches Uebersehene nun vorführte, mich auf einem unerwarteten
     Standpunkt versetzte, mir zu erwägen gab was ich für abgeschlossen
     hielt, und besonders auch mich befähigte die Gegner dieses
     wichtigen Werkes, an denen es nicht fehlen kann, zu beurtheilen und
     die Einwendungen, die sie von ihrer Seite vortragen, zu würdigen.

     Sie sehen hieraus dass zu Ende des Jahres keine höhere Gabe hätte
     zu mir gelangen können. Es ist dieses Werk mir zu einem goldenen
     Netz geworden, womit ich die Schattenbilder meines vergangenen
     Lebens aus den Lethes-Fluthen mit reichem Zuge herauszuforschen
     mich beschäftige.

     "Ungefähr dasselbige denke ich in dem nächsten Stücke von _Kunst
     und Alterthum_ zu sagen."

With regard to the medals, which are, as I expected, the two well-known
likenesses of Goethe himself, it could be no hard matter to dispose of
them safely here, or transmit them to you, if you required it, without
delay: but being in this curious fashion appointed as it were Ambassador
between two Kings of Poetry, I would willingly discharge my mission with
the solemnity that beseems such a business, and naturally it must
flatter my vanity and love of the marvellous, to think that, by means of
a Foreigner whom I have never seen, I might now have access to my native
Sovereign, whom I have so often seen in public and so often wished that
I had claim to see and know in private and near at hand.--Till
Whitsunday I continue to reside here; and shall hope that some time
before that period I may have opportunity to wait on you, and, as my
commission bore, to hand you these memorials in person.

Meanwhile I abide your further orders in this matter; and so, with all
the regard which belongs to one to whom I in common with other millions
owe so much,--I have the honour to be,

Sir, most respectfully your servant, THOMAS CARLYLE.

Besides the _two_ medals specially intended for you, there have come
_four_ more, which I am requested generally to dispose of amongst
"_Wohlwollenden_," Perhaps Mr. Lockhart, whose merits in respect of
German Literature, and just appreciation of this its Patriarch and
Guide, are no secret, will do me the honour to accept of one and direct
me through your means how I am to have it conveyed?


_Translation of the Letter from Goethe_.

Should you see Sir Walter Scott, be so kind as return to him my most
grateful thanks for his dear and cheerful letter,--a letter written in
just that beautiful temper which makes one man feel himself to be worth
something to another. Say, too, that I received his Life of Napoleon,
and have read it this winter--in the evening and at night--with
attention from beginning to end. To me it was full of meaning to observe
how the first novelist of the century took upon himself a task and
business, so apparently foreign to him, and passed under review with
rapid stroke those important events of which it had been our fate to be
eye-witnesses. The division into chapters, embracing masses of
intimately connected events, gives a clearness to the historical
sequence that otherwise might have been only too easily confused, while,
at the same time, the individual events in each chapter are described
with a clearness and a vividness quite invaluable.

I read the work in the original, and the impression it made upon me was
thus free from the disturbing influence of a foreign medium. I found
myself listening to the words of a patriotic Briton, who finds it
impossible to regard the actions of the enemy with a favourable eye,--an
honest citizen this, whose desire is, that while political
considerations shall always receive due weight, the demands of morality
shall never be overlooked; one who, while the enemy is borne along in
his wanton course of good fortune, cannot forbear to point with warning
finger to the inevitable consequences, and in his bitterest disaster can
with difficulty find him worthy of a tear.

The book was in yet another respect of the greatest importance to me, in
that it brought back to my remembrance events through which I had
lived--now showing me much that I had overlooked, now transplanting me
to some unexpected standpoint, thus forcing me to reconsider a question
which I had looked upon as settled, and in a special manner putting me
in a position to pass judgment upon the unfavourable critics of this
book--for these cannot fail--and to estimate at their true value the
objections which are sure to be made from their side. From all this you
will understand how the end of last year could have brought with it no
gift more welcome to me than this book. The work has become to me as it
were a golden net, wherewith I can recover from out the waves of Lethe
the shadowy pictures of my past life, and in that rich draught I am
finding my present employment.

I intend making a few remarks to the same purpose in the next number of
_Kunst und Alterthum_.[527]

       *       *       *       *       *


FOOTNOTES:

[526] It is much to be regretted that Scott and Carlyle never met. The
probable explanation is that the admirable letter now printed _in
extenso_, coming into a house where there was sickness, and amid the
turmoil of London life, was carefully laid aside for reply at a more
convenient season. This season, unfortunately, never came. Scott did not
return to Scotland until June 3d, and by that time Carlyle had left
Edinburgh and settled at Craigenputtock. He must, however, have seen
Scott subsequently, as he depicts him in the memorable words, "Alas! his
fine Scottish face, with its shaggy honesty and goodness, when we saw it
latterly in the Edinburgh streets, was all worn with care--the joy all
fled from it, and ploughed deep with labour and sorrow."

Mr. Lockhart once said to a friend that he regretted that they had never
met, and gave as a reason the state of Scott's health.

[527] This purpose Goethe seems to have carried out, for in the
"Chronologie" which is printed in the two-volume edition of his works,
published at Stuttgart 1837 (vol. ii. page 663), the following entry is
found:--"1827. Ueber neuere französische Literatur.--Ueber chinesische
Gedichte.--_Ueber das Leben Napoleon's von Walter Scott_."



No. III.

_Contents of the Volume of Irish Manuscript referred to_, vol. ii. p.
289.


1. The rudiments of an Irish Grammar and Prosody; the first leaf
wanting.

2. The Book of _Rights_; giving an account of ye rents and subsidies of
the kings and princes of Ireland. It is said to have (been) written by
Beinin MacSescnen, the Psalmist of Saint Patrick. It is entirely in
verse, except a few sentences of prose taken from ye booke of
Glandelogh.

3. A short poem giving an account of ye disciples and favourites of St.
Patrick.

4. A poem of Eochy O Flyn's; giving an account of the followers of
Partholan, the first invader of Ireland after the flood.

5. A poem written by Macliag, Brian Boruay's poet Laureat. It gives an
account of the twelve sons of Kennedy, son of Lorcan, Brian's father;
and of ye Dalcassian race in general.

6. A book of annals from the year 976 to 1014, including a good account
of the battle of Clontarf, etc.

7. A collection of Historical poems by different authors, such as O
Dugan, etc., and some extracts, as they seem, from the psalter of
Cashill, written by Cormac-mac-Cuilinan, Archbishop and King of Leath
Mogha, towards the beginning or middle of the ninth century; Cobhach O
Carmon and O Heagusa have their part in these poems. In them are
interspersed many other miscellaneous tracts, among which is one called
Sgeul-an-Erin, but deficient, wherein mention is made of Garbh mac
Stairn, said to be slain by Cuchullin; a treatise explaining the Ogham
manner of writing which is preserved in this book; the privileges of the
several kings and princes of Ireland, in making their tours of the
Kingdom, and taking their seats at the Feis of Tara; and an antient
moral and political poem as an advice to princes and chieftains, other
poems and prophecies, etc., chronological and religious, disposed in no
certain order.

8. The last will and testament of Cormac-mac-Cuilinan in verse.

9. The various forms of the Ogham.

10. The death of Cuchullin, an antient story interspersed with poems,
which, if collected, would contain the entire substance of the
composition, which is very good (except in one instance) and founded on
real fact.

11. The bloody revenge of Conall Cearnach for the death of Cuchullin.
This may be considered as the sequel of the preceding story, and of
equal authority and antiquity. It is written in the very same style, and
contains a beautiful elegy on Cuchullin by his wife Eimhir.

12. The death of Cormac Con luings, written in the same style with the
foregoing stories.

13. The genealogies of all ye principal Irish and Anglo-Norman families
of Ireland to the end.

14. A very good copy of the Cath-Gabhra.

The above table of contents is in the handwriting of Dr. Matthew Young,
late Bishop of Clonfert, a man possessing the highest talents and
learning, and who had been acquainted with the Irish language from his
infancy. J.B.

       *       *       *       *       *




No. IV.

"_A Former Empress_."--P. 451.


The Church of Santa Maria del Carmine contains relics dear alike to the
romance of democracy and empire. It was from this church that Masaniello
harangued the fickle populace in vain; it was here that he was
despatched by three bandits in the pay of the Duke of Maddaloni; and
here he found an honourable interment during a rapid reflux of popular
favour. In this church, too, lies Conradin the last prince of the great
house of Suabia, with his companion in arms and in death, Frederic, son
of the Margrave of Baden, with pretensions, through his mother, to the
Dukedom of Austria. The features of the mediæval building have long
since been obliterated by reconstructions of the 17th and 18th
centuries, while round the tomb of Conradin a tissue of fictions has
been woven by the piety and fondness of after times. The sceptics of
modern research do not, however, forbid us to believe that there may be
an element of truth in the beautiful legend of the visit and
benefactions of Elizabeth Margaret of Bavaria, the widowed mother of
Conradin, erroneously dignified with the title of Empress, to the
resting-place of her son. Her statue in the convent, with a purse in her
hand, seems to attest the tale, which was no doubt related to the
Scottish Poet, and may well have stirred his fancy. What the epitaph was
which he copied we cannot now determine. It is not pretended that the
unhappy lady was buried here, but two inscriptions commemorate the
ferocity of Charles of Anjou, and the vicissitudes of fortune which
befell his victims. One, believed to be of great antiquity, is attached
to a cross or pillar erected at the place of execution. It breathes the
insolence of the conqueror mingled with a barbarous humour embodied in a
play on words--for "Asturis" has a double reference to the kite and to
the place "Astura," at which the fugitive Princes were captured:

    "Asturis ungue Leo Pullum rapiens Aquilinum
    Hic deplumavit, acephalumque dedit."

The other lines, in the Church, of more modern date, are conceived in a
humaner spirit, and may possibly be those which touched the heart of the
old worshipper of chivalry.

     Ossibvs et memoriæ Conradini de Stovffen, vltimi ex sva progenie
     Sveviæ dveis, Conradi Rom. Regis F. et Friderici II, imp. nepotis,
     qui cvm Siciliæ et Apvliæ regna exercitv valido, vti hereditaria
     vindicare proposvisset, a Carolo Andegavio I. hvivs nominis rege
     Franco cæperani in agro Palento victvs et debellatvs extitit,
     deniqve captvs cvm Frederico de Asbvrgh vltimo ex linea Avstriæ
     dvce, itineris, ac eivsdem fortvnæ sotio, hic cvm aliis (proh
     scelvs) a victore rege secvri percvssvs est.

     Pivm Neap. coriariorvm collegivm, hvmanarvm miseriarvm memor, loco
     in ædicvlam redacto, illorvm memoriam ab interitv conservavit.

(For the details of the death of Conradin and the stories connected with
his memory see Summonte, _Storia di Napoli_, vol. ii. Celano, _Notizie
di Napoli Giornata Quarta_, and St. Priest, _Histoire de la Conquête de
Naples_, vol. iii.)

       *       *       *       *       *




No. V.

"Mother Goose's Tales," p. 459. _The following note by a distinguished
authority on Nursery Tales, will be read with interest._


"It is unfortunate that Sir Walter Scott did not record in his Diary the
dates of the Neapolitan collection of 'Mother Goose's Tales,' and of the
early French editions with which he was acquainted. He may possibly have
meant Basile's _Lo Cunto de li cunti_ (Naples, 1637-44 and 1645), which
contains some stories analogous to those which Scott mentions. There can
be no doubt, however, that France, not Italy, can claim the shapes of
_Blue Beard_, _The Sleeping Beauty_, _Puss in Boots_, and the other
'Tales of Mother Goose,' which are known best in England. Other forms of
these nursery traditions exist, indeed, not only in Italian, but in most
European and some Asiatic and African languages. But their classical
shape in literature is that which Charles Perrault gave them, in his
_Contes de ma Mère l'Oie_, of 1697. Among the 'early French editions'
which Sir Walter knew, probably none were older than Dr. Douce's copy of
1707, now in the Bodleian. The British Museum has no early copy. There
was an example of the First Edition sold in the Hamilton sale: another,
or the same, in blue morocco, belonged to Charles Nodier, and is
described in his _Mélanges_. The only specimen in the Public Libraries
of Paris is in the Bibliothèque Victor Cousin. It is probable that the
'dumpy duodecimo' in the Neapolitan dialect, seen by Scott, was a
translation of Perrault's famous little work. The stories in it, which
are not in the early French editions, may be _L'Adroite Princesse_, by a
lady friend of Perrault's, and _Peau d'Ane_ in prose, a tale which
Perrault told only in verse. These found their way into French and
Flemish editions after 1707. Our earliest English translation seems to
be that of 1729, and the name of 'Mother Goose' does not appear to occur
in English literature before that date. It is probably a translation of
'Ma Mère l'Oie,' who gave her name to such old wives' fables in France
long before Perrault's time, as the spider, Ananzi, gives his name to
the 'Nancy Stories' of the negroes in the West Indies. Among Scott's
Century of Inventions, unfulfilled projects for literary work, few are
more to be regretted than his intended study of the origin of Popular
Tales, a topic no longer thought 'obnoxious to ridicule.'"--A.L.




No. VI.

DESCENDANTS OF SIR WALTER SCOTT.


                                   SIR WALTER SCOTT, == CHARLOTTE CARPENTER,
                                   d. Sept. 21, 1832.    d. May 14, 1826.
                                                      |
                  ____________________________________|______________________________________________
                  |	                              |                            |                |
             SOPHIA,   == JOHN GIBSON LOCKHART,   WALTER, = JANE JOBSON.         ANNE,           CHARLES,
          d. May 1837.  |   d. Nov. 25, 1854.     d. Feb. 8,   d. 1877.       d. June 1833.    d. Oct. 28, 1841,
                        |                           1847,                                           _s.p._
                        |                            _s.p._
                        |____________________________________________
			      |                   |                 |
                          JOHN HUGH,        WALTER SCOTT,      CHARLOTTE,  ==  JAMES HOPE.
                       d. Dec. 15, 1831.    d. Jan. 1853,      d. Oct. 26,  |  d. April 29,
                                             _s.p._          1858.     |      1873.
                            ________________________________________________|________
                            |                                      |                |
                      MARY MONICA,==HON. JOSEPH MAXWELL,     WALTER MICHAEL,  MARGARET ANNE,
                                  |                            d. 1858.          d. 1858.
                                  |
      ____________________________|__________________________________________________________________________
      |            |                 |                   |                |               |                 |
   WALTER         MARY         WINIFRED MARY       JOSEPH MICHAEL,   ALICE MARY    MALCOLM JOSEPH     MARGARET MARY
   JOSEPH,     JOSEPHINE,       JOSEPHINE,           b. May 25,      JOSEPHINE,       RAPHAEL,           LUCY,
b. April 10,   b. June 5,    b. March 7, 1878,         1880.          b. Oct. 9,      b. Oct. 22,      b. Dee. 13,
   1875.         1876.       d. March 12, 1880.                         1881.           1883.             1886.