III

EARLY TRAVELS

ITALY, SOUTH OF FRANCE, SWITZERLAND,

GERMANY

ITALY.

THE

HE first time I reached beautiful Italy was in 1852 with six cousins who kindly asked me to be the seventh in their party. We all packed into a travelling carriage with four horses and traversed the plains and cities of Lombardy, then under Austrian oppression-which was often painfully apparent.

When we arrived at lovely Venice in the profound stillness it had in those days, we came to a charmed spot indeed; noiseless beauty and thrilling interest were everywhere. As we glided about the silent canals by moonlight or in sunshine, all was a marvellous world of beauty.

SOUTH OF FRANCE.

A French lady who was our friend from my childhood having asked me to accompany her to the South of France, I was charmed to stay in

entirely French surroundings away from the usual route of travellers.1

I had read with my mother, with absorbing interest, the stirring history of these southern provinces, and all that I saw was filled with memories and subjects of the past, leading to delightful intercourse with the residents whose great pleasure was in these remarkable histories. The thickly vaulted houses, strong enough with their heavy stone walls and arched corridors to bear a siege, were wonderful, and the ruined Camisard churches still told of times when the worship and the worshippers were alike stamped

out.

Having another dear old friend of my childhood near the Cevennes mountains, I branched off fora visit to him, soon finding inexorable customs as to what a young lady might do, or might not do, which were intolerable to English feelings. If we had a party of my friend's acquaintances, and any of the wellknown gentlemen talked with me in a leisurely conversation, ladies exclaimed afterwards, "How is this! that M. de P talked so long with the English lady, and Professor M-! Why was he so long conversing with her?" The aged landowner of the largest estates around asked me to look at his vineyard and its distant views, and at

1 Readers of the lives of the Gurneys and other Friends will remember the colonies of Friends visited at Nismes, Congenies and the neighbourhood. [ED.]

every step Marie, my friend's servant, followed like a shadow with her knitting, although the old gentleman of the land was the most honoured and influential of the neighbourhood, and more than old enough to be my father. And after all this, there were jealous criticisms on my being invited and accepting the little expedition. Alas! for the consequences of these customs when English girls are concerned. As there was so much objection to my going out alone, I persuaded my dear kind old friend to allow it before breakfast. He said, "Liberty is sweet-you are English-yes."

And to Marie's horror, my early start gave time daily for going such long distances on the beautiful mountains, brilliant in sunshine and Southern colours! I felt it was beyond all bounds, but the fascination of the scenes was irresistible.

Then a hunting gentleman whose brother was my father's friend, asked me to a sunrise expedition on the mountains, and our escapade was larger. A signal before 2 a.m. soon set me going, and having bid adieu in passing to his wife, we wound up the steep ways among rocks and trees by starlight in the clear night air, fresh and balmy with the scent of flowers, till gaining a high sheltered ledge of rock, and making a fire, we had a French hunter's breakfast. The sun rose full in front, lighting up the glorious mountains and their forests.

He narrated to me his wanderings and adventures in beautiful scenes, bringing me vividly into

the country life around. Then descending by a circuitous way on the mountain sides he told me about the spots we reached, and much that only becomes familiar in a leisurely time in unfrequented places. Well may Kingsley exclaim, "Do not only look at beautiful scenes — you must have time and live with them to know and feel their beauty!"

Catching a glimpse of a very large solitary house and hearing that two Scotch ladies lived there and were interested for the welfare of the neighbouring people, my wish to see them led to our having much happy association. The entrance courtyard, surrounded by heavy outer walls strong to bear attacks in war, had space for hundreds of persons. The house was in the most massive vaulted style, as if impregnable against a siege. I passed its various ante-rooms and vaulted corridors, and then found the dear, warm-hearted ladies in spacious rooms also built with thickest stone walls. All was very remarkable-the dignity and simplicity of their lives in their beautiful surroundings indoors, in the midst of their most charming land; the utter quiet and isolation of their mansion, and their bright happiness and genial company,-while they kindly brought me into their world of interests. Such solitude and gentle cultivated life were all more like a story book than ordinary realities. Peacefulness, sympathy and kindness marked their days and spread their influence widely around.

When first gazing at their house I asked a young landscape gardener

"M. Alphonse, what do these ladies do?" He replied, "They pray."

"Yes, and they are always doing good; they are excellent ladies."

Alphonse was a Roman Catholic, but he most highly valued these pious, unselfish ladies who were Protestants. He now became a useful escort, and having agreed to take the tyrannical Marie, he drove me to Le Vigon, beautifully situated in the midst of the mountains, that I might hear more from Professor C of the histories of that neighbourhood. These subjects were so interesting to the Professor's family, they kindly asked me to stay with them, and here I found charming ladies, and home life in France. Our evenings were spent all together at home in social pursuits and pleasures, as in happy English families.

The chestnut annual festivity came before I left, and made an entirely exceptional frolicking evening, to which I was invited by another family, where the light-hearted French gaiety was very amusing in something like a little carnival occasion. Chestnuts are so important and welcome a part of daily provision here; their fresh season brought them in view whenever we came to table, cooked in all manner of ways; so when at last I left my kind friends for the return journey, chestnuts formed a chief part of the day's provision.