Download the Full Version of ebook for Fast Typing at ebookmass.

com

Principles and Practice of Marketing 10th Edition

Fiona Ellis-Chadwick

https://ebookmass.com/product/principles-and-practice-of-
marketing-10th-edition-fiona-ellis-chadwick/

OR CLICK BUTTON

DOWNLOAD NOW

Download More ebook Instantly Today - Get Yours Now at ebookmass.com

 Recommended digital products (PDF, EPUB, MOBI) that
you can download immediately if you are interested.

Principles and Practice of Marketing 9th Edition David

Jobber

https://ebookmass.com/product/principles-and-practice-of-
marketing-9th-edition-david-jobber/

ebookmass.com

Principles and Practice of Marketing 8th Edition David

Jobber

https://ebookmass.com/product/principles-and-practice-of-
marketing-8th-edition-david-jobber/

ebookmass.com

Retail Marketing Management: Principles and Practice Helen

Goworek

https://ebookmass.com/product/retail-marketing-management-principles-
and-practice-helen-goworek/

ebookmass.com

Advertising & IMC: Principles and Practice 10th Edition,

(Ebook PDF)

https://ebookmass.com/product/advertising-imc-principles-and-
practice-10th-edition-ebook-pdf/

ebookmass.com
Principles of Microeconomics 10th Edition Mankiw

https://ebookmass.com/product/principles-of-microeconomics-10th-
edition-mankiw/

ebookmass.com

Principles of Marketing, 19th Global Edition Philip Kotler

https://ebookmass.com/product/principles-of-marketing-19th-global-
edition-philip-kotler/

ebookmass.com

Principles of Marketing, Student Value Edition (17th

Edition ) 17th

https://ebookmass.com/product/principles-of-marketing-student-value-
edition-17th-edition-17th/

ebookmass.com

Principles of Marketing, Global Edition 17th Edition,

(Ebook PDF)

https://ebookmass.com/product/principles-of-marketing-global-
edition-17th-edition-ebook-pdf/

ebookmass.com

Principles and Practice of Veterinary Technology 4th

Edition

https://ebookmass.com/product/principles-and-practice-of-veterinary-
technology-4th-edition/

ebookmass.com
 page i

Tenth Edition

Principles and Practice of

Marketing

David Jobber and

Fiona Ellis-Chadwick

page ii
 page iii

Tenth Edition

Principles and Practice of

Marketing

David Jobber and

Fiona Ellis-Chadwick
 page iv

Principles and Practice of Marketing, Tenth Edition

David Jobber and Fiona Ellis-Chadwick

ISBN-13 9781526849533
ISBN-10 1526849534

Published by McGraw-Hill Education (UK) Limited

Unit 4, Foundation Park,
Roxborough Way,
Maidenhead
SL6 3UD
T: +44 (0) 1628 502500
Website: www.mheducation.co.uk

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

Library of Congress Cataloguing in Publication Data

The Library of Congress data for this book has been applied for from the Library of
Congress

Portfolio Manager: Sabrina Farrugia

Content Developer: Maggie du Randt
Content Product Manager: Ali Davis
Marketing Manager: Ros Letellier

Text design by Kamae Design

Cover design by Adam Renvoize
Printed and bound in the UK by Bell and Bain Ltd, Glasgow

Published by McGraw-Hill Education. Copyright © 2024 by McGraw-Hill Education.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or distributed in
any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the
prior written consent of McGraw-Hill Education, including, but not limited to, in any
network or other electronic storage or transmission, or broadcast for distance
learning.

Fictitious names of companies, products, people, characters and/or data that may
be used herein (in case studies or in examples) are not intended to represent any
real individual, company, product or event.

ISBN-13 9781526849533
ISBN-10 1526849534
eISBN-13 9781526849540
© 2024. Exclusive rights by McGraw-Hill Education for manufacture and export.
This book cannot be re-exported from the country to which it is sold by McGraw-
Hill Education.
 page v

Dedication
To Jackson, River, Rosie, Molly, Evie and Bohdi.
 page vi

Brief Table of Contents

Detailed Table of Contents vii
Vignettes xi

Case Guide xiii

Preface xvii
Guided Tour xx

Technology to Enhance Learning and Teaching xxiii

About the Authors xxvii
Acknowledgements xxviii

PART 1
Fundamentals of Marketing 1
1 Marketing and the Organization 3

2 The Marketing Environment 41

3 Sustainable Marketing and Society 93

4 Customer Behaviour 133

5 Value Through Relationships 183

6 Digital Marketing Analytics and Customer Insights 215

7 Market Segmentation and Positioning 253

PART 2
Creating Customer Value 303
8 Value Through Brands 305

9 Value Through Pricing 349

10 Value Through Innovation 387

11 Value Through Service 423

PART 3
Communicating and Delivering Customer Value 463
12 Introduction to Marketing Communications 465

13 The Marketing Communications Mix: Mass Communications

503
14 Digital Marketing and Media 555

15 Direct Marketing, Social Media and Direct Messaging 595

16 Place: Distribution, Channel Management and Retailing 639

PART 4
Marketing Planning and Strategy 679
17 Marketing Strategy and Planning 681

18 Analysing Competitors and Creating a Competitive Advantage

717
19 Product Strategy: Lifecycle, Portfolio and Growth 759

20 Global Marketing Strategy 799

21 Managing Marketing Implementation 837

Glossary 875
Company Index 887
Subject Index 896
 page vii

Detailed Table of Contents

Vignettes xi
Case Guide xiii

Preface xvii
Guided Tour xx
Technology to Enhance Learning and Teaching xxiii

About the Authors xxvii

Acknowledgements xxviii

PART 1
Fundamentals of Marketing 1
1 Marketing and the Organization 3
Introduction to Principles and Practice of Marketing 4
What is Marketing? 5
Adopting a Market Orientation in a Changing World 7
Understanding Market-driven Businesses 11
Creating Customer Value, Satisfaction, Loyalty and Relationships 16
Marketing Planning 21
Does Marketing Have All the Answers? 22
Big Picture: Key Topics in This Chapter 25
Detailed Review 25
 Key Terms 27
Study Questions 28
Recommended Reading 28
References 28
CASE 1 The Rivalry Between Coca-Cola and Pepsi 31
CASE 2 H&M and Fast Fashion 35

2 The Marketing Environment 41

Technological Forces and the Digital Revolution 43
Economic Forces 48
Political and Legal Forces 57
Legal and Regulatory Responses to Ethical Issues in Marketing 62
The Physical Environmental Forces 62
Culture and Society 66
The Influence of Consumerism and Environmentalism 70
The Microenvironment 72
Monitoring the Marketing Environment 75
Big Picture: Key Topics in This Chapter 76
Detailed Review 77
Key Terms 78
Study Questions 78
Recommended Reading 79
References 79
CASE 3 The New [Augmented] Reality for Fashion Retailing 83
CASE 4 Sodastream: Using Environmental Awareness to Reach
Generations X, Y and Z 89

3 Sustainable Marketing and Society 93

The Environment, Society and the Changing Marketing Landscape 95
Sustainability Marketing 96
Practical Approaches Towards Developing Sustainable Marketing Strategies:
Corporate Social Responsibility 113
 Big Picture: Key Topics in This Chapter 119
Detailed Review 119
Key Terms 121
Study Questions 121
Recommended Reading 121
References 122
CASE 5 Mcdonald’s and Its Plan for Environmental Change: Not
Everyone is ‘Lovin’ It’ 125
CASE 6 Unilever: In Pursuit of Purpose 129

4 Customer Behaviour 133

The Changing Context of Consumer Behaviour 134
The Dimensions of Consumer Behaviour 136
Influences on Consumer Behaviour 145
Business-to-Business Customers 153
Why is B2B Marketing Important? 157
People and Processes in Purchasing 159
Influences on Buying Decisions 165
Big Picture: Key Topics in This Chapter 167
Detailed Review 167
Key Terms 169
Study Questions 171
Recommended Reading 171
References 172
CASE 7 Coffee Shop Wars 175
CASE 8 Naked Wines: A Community of Winemakers and Wine
Drinkers 178

5 Value Through Relationships 183

Value Creation 184
Value and Relational Networks 187
Key Concepts of Relationship Marketing 189
 Relationship Management and Managing Customer Relationships 192
How to Build Relationships 194
Benefits for the Organization 196
Benefits for the Customer 197
Developing Customer Retention Strategies 198
Customer Relationship Management 201
Big Picture: Key Topics in This Chapter 205
Detailed Review 205
Key Terms 206
Study Questions 207
Recommended Reading 207
References 207

page viii

CASE 9 Starbucks: Brewing Great Customer Experiences Through

Outstanding Digital Marketing 210
CASE 10 Manchester City Football Club: Co-Creating the Future
212
6 Digital Marketing Analytics and Customer Insights 215
Digital Marketing Analytics: Goals, Performance and Measurement 216
Customer Insights and Data-driven Marketing 222
Marketing and Research 224
The Market Research Process 225
Ethical Issues in Marketing Research, Analytics and Customer Insights 238
Big Picture: Key Topics in This Chapter 240
Detailed Review 241
Key Terms 242
Study Questions 243
Recommended Reading 244
References 244
 CASE 11 Accelerating Market Research: Harley-Davidson Turns to
Albert 246
CASE 12 Hubspot: Harnessing the Power of Artificial Intelligence
for Marketing 250

7 Market Segmentation and Positioning 253

Why Bother to Segment Markets? 254
The Process of Market Segmentation and Target Marketing 256
Segmenting Consumer Markets 257
Segmenting B2B Markets 268
Target Marketing 272
Positioning 279
Building an Effective Marketing Mix 283
Big Picture: Key Topics in This Chapter 286
Detailed Review 287
Key Terms 288
Study Questions 289
Recommended Reading 289
References 289
CASE 13 Unleashing the Power of Nablabs 293
CASE 14 Boots: Managing Own-Label Products and Their
Positioning Within a Changing Environment and Dynamic
Market(s) 297

PART 2
Creating Customer Value 303
8 Value Through Brands 305
Products and Brands 306
The Product Line and Product Mix 307
Brand Types 307
 Why Strong Brands are Important 308
Brand Equity 312
Brand Building 314
Key Branding Decisions 320
Global Branding 330
Big Picture: Key Topics in This Chapter 333
Detailed Review 334
Key Terms 335
Study Questions 336
Recommended Reading 336
References 337
CASE 15 Dr. Martens: Engaging Consumers for More Than Half a
Century 340
CASE 16 Brand Strategy Changes at Burberry 344

9 Value Through Pricing 349

Why an Economist’s Approach to Pricing is Important 351
Cost-orientated Pricing 352
Competitor-orientated Pricing 354
Customer-orientated Pricing 355
Dynamic Pricing 364
Pricing and Marketing Strategy 365
Initiating Price Changes 370
Reacting to Competitors’ Price Changes 372
Big Picture: Key Topics in This Chapter 374
Detailed Review 375
Key Terms 376
Study Questions 376
Recommended Reading 377
References 377
CASE 17 A Recipe for Success: Adding New Innovations to the Pot
Discovering Diverse Content Through
Random Scribd Documents
from his subjects. I should like to have heard the TUSCANY
deputies from Siena say, ‘Soumise par force’—
galanterie de certaine part which I could easily dispense with.
Nothing more distressing than that species of admiration that keeps
one in a fever to bear, from the coarseness and indelicacy of the
manner. In the evening went to Prince Augustus’ with Ly. Elizabeth
to see the horse races—a stupid and a cruel sight. Went with Ly. H.
to see the pretty opera of I Due Gobbi.
I asked d’Armfeldt why he wore the white handkerchief tied
round his arm: I asked the meaning. When Gustavus made the
revolution of 1772 he expected a popular insurrection, and he
desired all those who were his friends to take their handkerchiefs
and fasten them on their left arms; most everyone present did. An
awful moment followed after his declaring his intention of effecting a
total change in the Constitution, such as by levying taxes, abridging
the power of the aristocracy, and enlarging his own prerogative. He
finished by saying, ‘I am either your prisoner or your King.’ A dead
silence ensued. A lieutenant and grey corporal exclaimed, ‘Le
Suédois est loyal. Oui, Sire, vous êtes le Roi’; the assembly
applauded, and the revolution was confirmed. After the acclamations
had subsided, he enjoined a solemn silence, ordered them to kneel,
and uttered an extempore prayer of thanksgiving for the great
event. Hugh Elliot by a mad freak extricated him out of a mauvais
pas. He was at Gottenburg with a small force, defenceless walls, and
6000 Danes approaching to make him prisoner. Elliot, in his zeal,
called out and told the Prince of Hesse that unless he immediately
withdrew his forces, he should in the name of Great Britain declare
war, send off couriers to bring a fleet to bombard Copenhagen, and
others to fetch 30,000 Prussians. This foolish braggadocio frightened
the poor Danes, and they slunk away.
The revolution is censured as being a direct violation of those
oaths the King took at his coronation. The whole power was lodged
in the four estates, Nobles, Citizens, Clergy, Peasantry. The kingly
power was a nullity; the Sovereign a phantom. The late King was in
the early part of his life in Paris, and Vergennes was supposed to
have planned for him the Revolution. Russia harassed him by
perpetual wars; contrary to her own practice, she espoused in his
dominions the cause of liberty. Rasoumoffsky was very active in
aiding the malcontents, and, being detected in bribing many who
had leading voices in the Diet, he was ordered to quit Stockholm
immediately. Upon his objecting, he was told that unless he went
within twenty-four hours he should be made to go on board an
English vessel.
D’Armfeldt told me a good many traits de
chevalerie of Sir Sidney Smith, alias Charles XII., FLORENCE
who is now at Constantinople. If d’Armfeldt’s
stories may be relied on, his case is certainly a hard one, but he
speaks imprudently in accusing the Regent in the manner he does.
He evidently is in greater favour with the Court of Russia than a loyal
Swede ought to be.
25th.—I passed the morning with Fontana.[64] He is a
remarkable man, but below his reputation. The news is that the
Royalists have been defeated with great loss. The English have taken
Tobago. The Comte d’Artois is returned to Ham; he was not allowed
to land in England, as he could not be protected against his
creditors. Dined at Lord Hervey’s: Prince Augustus, etc. I preferred
the quiet of my own room to going to the Opera.
26th.—I went to the Museum. Fontana appointed me at ten. The
institution was founded by the Grand Duke Leopold, and placed
under the direction of Fontana. Thirty-eight rooms are filled with
objects in every branch of Natural History, Philosophy, Physics, etc.
The anatomical preparations in wax are very beautiful. The small
representations of the ravages of the plague at Messina are
admirably executed; the artist must have had a considerable portion
of sombre in his imagination.
I asked the real history of the tarantula, whether he thought
there was any foundation for the stories they tell in Calabria of its
producing such violent irritation that motion, such as dancing,
relieves the patient. He says such a malady exists, and is ascribed to
the sting, whereas it proceeds from the imagination of young
people. Those who suffer chiefly are adolescents, just at the period
when the passions begin to develop themselves and agitate the
frame. Those who believe in the reality of the disease tell the story
of an incredulous bishop who, resolved to convince the people of the
absurdity of the story, exposed his arm to the stings of five of these
animals; the consequence was that the bishop suffered like a
layman, and the tambourine was called to his relief to assist him
cutting capers. Whether this dignified prelate was imposed upon, or
whether he thought the superstition too valuable to eradicate, must
remain a secret between him and his confessor.
Bishop Burnet records a similar anecdote of Lord Lanesborough,
who upon the death of Prince George of Denmark requested an
audience of Queen Anne. He obtained it, and advised her Majesty to
dissipate her chagrin by dancing, as he had always found that to be
a sovereign remedy against bodily and mental affliction.
Fontana has made numberless experiments upon the poison of a
viper. It is a glutinous mass in which he has never discovered the
noxious ingredient; taken into the stomach, it is not prejudicial, it
only acts upon the nerves. He has published in several quarto
volumes his opinions on the subject. He entered into a long
philosophical dissertation on the vital principle. He has worms or eels
in which life is suspended, but he can bring them to existence. They
came in diseased corn from the Morea. He has drawn conclusions
from his experiments which prove too much for the Church to allow
him to publish. He is an apostle in the cause of atheism and
democracy, hence it is not likely he will make the world happier or
wiser.
In the evening I went to Lady Hervey’s instead
of the Opera. D’Armfeldt was, as usual, the hero of AFFAIRS IN
the conversation and of his own story. He begs FRANCE
compassion so much that one is tempted to
withhold it. The Regent, by this post, has withdrawn 1800l. of his
appointments; but why does he expect favours of a man whom he
accuses of an intention to poison the young King? He told several
stories that prove him dans les bons principes for a soldier; he thinks
every bullet has its billet. He told of a young man skulking from fear
behind an ammunition waggon, yet killed by a random shot. He
made great use of this to encourage his men not to flinch.
News of a bloody battle near Quesnoy: 6000 French killed 4,000
Austrians.[65] How dreadful! This conflict will not close until Europe
is deluged with blood and society destroyed. The trial of Orleans, or,
as he ridiculously styles himself, Egalité, is about: the chief
accusation against him is his having voted for the King’s death. Bad
as that was, yet he did poignard à la gorge. Lyons is in revolt against
the Convention. The poor Royalists have been defeated in Brittany.
27th June.—This fatal day seven years gave me, in the bloom
and innocence of fifteen, to the power of a being who has made me
execrate my life since it has belonged to him. Despair often prompts
me to a remedy within my reach. ‘To enjoy is to obey,’ to be
wretched is to disobey; if Providence interposes not for my relief,
may I not seek it? Nature is assisted to relieve us in our diseases—
why not to terminate those of the mind? My mind is worked up to a
state of savage exaltation, and impels me to act with fury that
proceeds more from passion and deep despair than I can in calmer
moments justify. Oftentimes in the gloom of midnight I feel a desire
to curtail my grief, and but for an unaccountable shudder that creeps
over me, ere this the deed of rashness would be executed. I shall
leave nothing behind that I can regret. My children are yet too
young to attach me to existence, and Heaven knows I have no close,
no tender ties besides. Oh, pardon the audacity of the thought!
28th June.—In the evening, Ly. Spencer, Duchess, and Ly.
Bessborough arrived. They came the Perugia road: rather
discomposed at finding T. P. gone, but it certainly was wise in him to
decline the embarrassment of a tedious, troublesome journey with
them. I went to the Opera; it was the last night of the Pergola.[66]
 29th.—Drew dined with me. He seems half discontented with his
new friends. Supped with Ly. B. Three hundred cannon are playing
upon Valenciennes. St. Leger is with the D. of York, and besieging it
with the allied army. Marat has declared to the Convention that
Gaston is advancing to Paris; there are three Royal armies, and more
than half France has declared itself in a state of counter-revolution.
But these are but flying reports.
30th June, Sunday.—Dined at Ld. Hervey’s: he appeared much
agitated, probably at the prospect of his removal from this place, as
it will be impossible for Ministers to allow him to remain after his
behaviour to the Grand Duke. In those letters which he wrote
remonstrating against the exportation of grain from Tuscany to
France he calls the Grand Duke a fool and Manfredini a knave. I
went to the Opera with Lady B. and supped with her. She is much
improved in her walking; but what cures may not be received from
this delicious climate! She is to pass the summer at Lucca Baths.
1st July.—Lady Shelley has promised to take
care of my children; her husband, Dr. Stuart, is a D’ARMFELDT
very good physician. Ly. Ann[67] is still invisible, at
least to men. She is a frolicsome Irish widow bewitched, very pretty,
very foolish, and very debauched. The French fleet is in force at
Toulon: where is Ld. Hood? The Jacobin Club here is in full exultation
at the bad news from the allies.
Armfeldt told us that Anckarström, as he was conducting him to
execution, implored his pardon, saying he should die contented if he
could obtain that, as he was the person most injured, for in his
sovereign he lost a friend and a benefactor. The King refused to hear
the name of his murderer. Armfeldt had the command of an army in
a campaign against the Russians, in which service the King
accompanied him and shared the hardships of the common soldiers.
There was a victory obtained by the Swedes upon the ice. Dangers
of every sort surrounded them; the sun was very ardent and the ice
was cracking beneath the surface. The Swedes had a great
advantage, their horses being shod; the Russians had not taken the
same precaution. Armfeldt said that the King’s aide-de-camps, unless
they died of the plague or indigestion, need not fear death; they hid
themselves in the moment of peril. The King would never settle a
plan for retreat, as he would not allow it possible that he could be
defeated. Such courage as this is often ruinous to the country whose
monarch is brave. Portugal smarted from Sebastian’s[68]
impetuosity; in vain his old generals remonstrated, he listened to his
ardour. On his landing at Ceuta, the musicians, instead of striking up
a cheerful air to encourage the soldiers, played a solemn dirge: in
superstitious times what a contretemps! Besides this melancholy
portent, he stumbled on a corpse as he got out of his ship.
A fine ball in the evening at Lord Hervey’s: Mme. d’Albany
introduced me to Alfieri. I took a final leave of d’Armfeldt. I was
sorry to bid a farewell to my friends, but a very few months will
bring us together, I hope. La Flotte, the French Minister, was not
invited to the ball: this is a very marked insult at a neutral Court.
July 2nd, Tuesday.—I parted from my children this morning at
eleven. I have left them comfortable, established in a good house
with proper attendants, and Dr. Stuart and an Italian physician,
Gianetti, to take care of them. The day was delicious, ardent sun,
deep blue sky, everybody was gasping from the heat; I alone as cold
as marble, but inwardly warmed by the glowing sun.
Prato is the first post, a pretty little town; put
me in mind of La Bonneville in Savoy. It is situated CROSSING THE
at the foot of a range of calcareous hills forming APENNINES
the sides of a crater of considerable extent. We
continued in this plain till we reached Pistoja. The heat being too
intense to remain in the carriage, we stopped two hours at Pistoja.
Two miles from Pistoja we began ascending the high chain of
Apennines, which runs across Italy and divides it from Cisalpine
Gaul, or Lombardy. About half-way up the hill to the first post we
stopped to look back upon the valley. Florence, Pistoja, Prato, the
Umbrino meandering in the plain until it reaches the sea at Leghorn,
made a lovely coup d’œil. The project was to travel all night, but my
face pained me so much that by an extraordinary degree of
complaisance I was allowed to stop at St. Marcello, a delightful little
inn.
Wednesday, July 3rd.—I was enchanted with the prettiness of the
environs of the inn: just opposite my window there is a steep
verdant bank shaded by tall cypress. The hills above are studded
with chestnut, ilex, beech, the wild cherry, and vast assemblage of
pretty trees. Passed through a neat town, to which our inn was a
suburb. Kept ascending for miles. A magnificent torrent roaring at
our feet and the sharp pinnacles of the Apennines springing above
our heads. The industry of the inhabitants is manifested by their
cultivating every little spot that is accessible to the foot of man, and
success warrants their enterprise, as the production is abundant,
and the walls prop up the little field.
These mountains must have afforded a secure asylum to those
numerous predatory bands which infested this delightful country in
former days; the bold robber might bid defiance to the vigilance of
the Holy Brother. Indeed, the wretched state of society about the
Middle Ages must have rendered travelling a service of danger, from
the perpetual wars between each petty State, the burdensome
jurisdiction of the barons, and the outrages committed by outlaws.
We dined at the post-house within 300 yards of the top of the
mountain which we had been crawling up all day. The summit is the
boundary of Tuscany and the frontier of the Modenese State. We
began descending this side of the mountains; much more beautiful
than the other, springs of very clear, cool water afford a delicious
draught to the exhausted, weary traveller. Torrents and cascades
tumbling from the heights between thick groves of pines down the
sides of the mountains till they reach the torrent in the valley, which
is there called the Scoltenna, but soon after changes its name and
becomes the Panaro. Snow is still lying in the crevices of the
mountain; the rays of the setting sun produce a pretty effect upon
the white masses intermingled with woods and sharp rocks. The
chaussée in these States as fine as any in Europe; indeed, except
those in the Austrian dominions, I believe no roads can be compared
to those of Italy. The peasants work in their agricultural toils armed
—a sad memento of the terrors of those times when such things
were necessary. How dreadful that the most useful members of the
community were exposed, whilst labouring for the benefit of
mankind, to outrages that demanded self-defence!
At Barigazzo, a small volcano like Pietra Mala. A flame issues
from the ground and burns without having anything to feed on, till
extinguished either by a high wind or by water; it is used to burn
lime. Muscovite is found in large quantities in this mountain. To the
S.-E. of the village, upon the top of the mountain, a large lake, called
Lago Santo, because blessed by the Bishop of Lucca; it has most
miraculous properties. The night was heavenly: the splendour of the
stars above and the millions spangled upon the surface of the earth
formed by the Luccioli, produced a glittering scene that dazzled the
eye; to add to the brilliancy, a black cloud, distant in the horizon,
emitted flashes of bright lightning. The vivacity of the light almost
too much. Such must have been the splendour surrounding the God
of Thunder when he showed himself dans tous ses atours to the
astonished eyes of the curious Semele. We travelled all night and
reached Modena at 5 o’clock in the morning.
Thursday, 4th July.—I already feel the
difference between the heat of Lombardy and the THE PLAINS OF
refreshing breezes of Florence. I am just going to LOMBARDY
see the Guercinos at the Palace. L’homme propose,
Dieu dispose, the custode was eating, drinking, or sleeping; I could
not gain admittance. Arrived at Parma about 6 o’clock. Slept there. I
saw Parma last October. The ‘St. Jerome,’ the ‘Madonna della
Scodella,’ the ceiling of a dome in a church, are some of the finest of
Correggio.
Marat has resumed his functions in the Convention. We crossed a
dozen ferries in the night, and reached Placentia soon after
daybreak.
 5th July.—Saw the Ducal Palace, the equestrian statue,
Cathedral, and St. Augustin. Alberoni was a native of this city.
Crossed the Po at the gates of the town. Very near meeting with an
ugly accident in getting out of the boat; the banks were steep, the
mud very deep, the carriage rolled considerably back into the water.
Our cook we were obliged to pass as a Swiss, Frenchmen being
refused admittance into the Milanese. Rice plantations and deep
sands to Lodi. Arrived at Milan at 12 o’clock. The Palmerstons, Sir
Benjamin Thompson,[69] and Sir C. Blagden here.
Saturday, 6th.—The heat unbearable; close suffocating feel, like a
hot day in England. Miss Carter and Sir Benjamin dined with me.
After dinner, instead of the custom of the country to take the siesta,
I took a long-winded discourse from Sir Benjamin upon politics,
happiness, morality, etc. He thinks Dumouriez was bribed by the
Austrians throughout his career. Saw my old acquaintance Csse.
Maxe. Her present cavaliere servente is her husband’s brother, and
her husband is the bon ami of his elder brother’s wife, the
Marchesina di Litta. One must learn not to stare at these connections
in Italy; they are not uncommon.
7th July, Sunday.—Left Milan at 10 o’clock. We intend, if the
Grand St. Bernard is free of snow and French, to cross it, and get by
that route into Switzerland. Crossed the Ticino at Buffalora; it was
very low compared to the floods of last year. Found letters pressing
us to stop at Château de Masin in the valley of D’Aost on our way to
the mountain. We shall there find the Trevors, T. P., and Swinburne.
We slept at Vercelli, for though it was not late when we arrived, yet
it was too far to Masin to attempt to reach it by their supper hour.
8th.—Set off at 4 o’clock in the morning, changed horses at
Germano, and those horses conveyed us hither. This antique
structure is a baronial castle upon the summit of a high, isolated
rock, overlooking a rich plain in which the Dora Baltea meanders
fantastically. To the north is the entrance into the valley D’Aost,
backed by the Alps, among which is St. Bernard. To the east the
Plain of Lombardy, with a distant view of Milan. Villages, towns,
lakes, rivers, hills, and all the beauties of nature and art may be
discovered from the lofty towers of this venerable abode. This castle
has undergone many sieges from the French; before the introduction
of gunpowder it was impregnable, and even since its use it has held
out. In 1554 Maréchal de Biron received just under my bedchamber
window the wound which made him a cripple for life. The old walls
in many places are loaded with the cannon balls which have been
poured by volleys into them. The room we dine in is vaulted and
bomb proof; the ceiling and cornices are decorated by the arms of
Masin quartered with those of the greatest families. I saw those of
Austria in several escutcheons.
The Count Masin is a well-bred man of a
certain age, hospitable, and doing with dignity the CHÂTEAU DE
honours of his house, where plenty and luxury are MASIN
united. He is proud of his high descent and
alliances. He showed me amongst the armorial bearings a stirrup
with the motto ‘Ferme toi.’ An ancestor of his in battle lost all his
weapons, desperate he took his stirrups and assaulted his
antagonist, and his sovereign Lord in honour of the achievement
allowed him to take the quartering as an emblem of his courage.
In the evening we drove about the alleys; high, clipped hedges
on each side defended us from the evening breeze, which in this
high spot is more than a breeze generally, but was this evening
insufferably hot, more from a stagnation in the air than from the
positive degree of heat. The doubts increase about the passage of
the St. Bernard; at all events we intend going to Aost. In the
evening the letters from Turin arrived. I had a letter from Ld. Henry,
[70] and he writes out of spirits; complains of solitude. He dislikes his
appointment to Stockholm. A courier saw Mayence in flames on the
27th June; if it has fallen it will facilitate our journey up the Rhine.
We retired early to our rooms. My apartment was curious and
magnificent. It consisted of a bedroom, a dressing-room, a
receiving-room, besides accommodation near for my valet-de-
chambre and my maid. The bedroom is a bastion, which makes
inside a delightful circular room; a balcony goes round it, and from
the spot where I was this minute, from it down to the fosse, is
upwards of 100 feet. A private door opens upon a spiral staircase,
which carries one to the porte-de-secours. I dismissed my maid, and
sat me down to write, read, and think. The wind rose and made a
most furious noise in my chimney, and in the vaulted rooms
beneath. I could not help thinking that if an ancestor of Masin’s were
to appear and tell me some horrid tale of his unburied bones rotting
in a dungeon in the towers of the castle, a more hideous noise and
crash would not usher him in than what I have heard. In the midst
of this reflection I perceived upon the large glass on the left of me,
and which stands opposite to the doors of a long suite of
apartments, all open, a glimmering light, and I heard at the same
moment a noise from the rooms. I am no coward with respect to
supernatural appearances, but I was out of spirits, and the solitude
of my situation apart from the rest of the family contributed at that
moment to give me a qualm. I looked at the glass, and perceived
the light stronger and some white drapery flowing behind it. Pour le
coup I trembled and hid my face. A minute brought Swinburne with
a night taper, in his dressing gown, to my sight. I laughed at my
fears. He came from Mrs. Trevor, who was ill, to get some camphor
julep from me. I locked my door and was courageous enough to go
to bed without rousing anybody.
Tuesday, 9th.—We were to have gone this morning, but our
journey is deferred. Passed the day pleasantly enough. Trevor went
to Turin to meet General Grenville. Mrs. Trevor crosses the mountain.
We shall, if it is possible for any of us to go across.
How much I detest the prospect of a residence
in England, even though it be but for a few weeks; VAL D’AOST
country, climate, manners, everything is odious to
me. Il faudra se résoudre à souffrir. Patience, pazienza. Left the
hospitable castle early in the morning. We descended the steep hill,
upon which rises majestically the castle, into the plain towards Ivrea,
an ancient fortified town distant only five miles from Masin. The
walls are now repairing, and the whole is getting into a state of
defence with the utmost expedition. The King of Sardinia is now
making a progress through this part of his dominions. This costs him
25,000l. in useless pomp, and he receives a subsidy from England of
200,000l. To the right a castle, very picturesque in its situation,
called Mont’alto; the hill upon which it stands is composed of
calcareous earth from whence the lime used in the country is drawn.
We entered the Val d’Aost at a narrow pass at the Pont St.
Martin, an old bridge across the Dora. The weather was delicious,
the change of the climate very perceptible already. We dined at
Donnaz, a small village placed in an excavation of the rock,
supposed by some to be a work of the Romans. Our whole party
met at dinner. Trevor defers his return to Turin until he has seen us
all well over the mountain, as his interposition may be necessary to
get us mules. Fort le Bard, about half a mile from Donnaz, a strong
mountain pass, assisted by art. Nature has given it a rapid river and
mountains; Vauban, ramparts and cannon. The mode of training the
vines is singular. They are trailed upon a treillage horizontally placed
upon stone pillars; they are from 4 to 5 feet and even higher from
the ground. It is admirably adapted for catching the warmth of the
sun. The valley is at the widest half a mile, but it is generally
narrower. The oxen are very fine, and the manner of yoking them is
very picturesque. We went on six miles beyond where their party
slept to Chatillon, where M. Regis gave us very good accommodation
in his house, and his company. He is a friend of Masin, or rather a
dependant. On the road I got out at Monjovet, celebrated for fine
steatites and garnets imbedded in quartz; I obtained a few
specimens.
The Piedmontese army are upon the Petit St. Bernard; the
French are at the foot of it by the Isère. Each army has not more
than 3000 men. The troops are very sickly, the hardships they have
encountered are incredible; the barracks are absolutely upon the top
of the mountain, a post which is not much benefited by the climate
of August. Numbers are in the hospital at Aost, and we are alarmed
by hearing of an epidemical disorder being among them.
 Thursday.—Though the Trevors were six miles behind me, they
were diligent enough to pass me before even I was out of my bed.
The road from Chatillon lies by the Dora. The Dora Baltea is a rapid
torrent, which runs into the Po near Turin. The Isère rises on the
French side of the mountain, and finds its way into the Rhône. The
Dora comes raving with great impetuosity and swiftness—a just
emblem of time, that rushes forward and never is retarded. It gave
me the vapours to think of the many misspent hours I have
irretrievably lost. Half my time is spent in making resolutions to
amend, but the precious moments escape when to begin, for as
some ancient poet says, ‘He that leaves for to-morrow that may be
done to-day is like the countryman waiting upon the banks of the
river to cross when the waters have run by and left it dry.’ About five
miles before we reached Aost we caught a magnificent view of Mont
Blanc; the whiteness of it was dazzling.
Aost or the Cité, as it is called here, is an ugly
town. We are lodged at the Baron d’Aviso’s. I have MT. ST.
this instant heard that the distemper is contagious, BERNARD
and that the master of this house is dying of the
epidemical fever. The intelligence is not pleasant, but I rejoice at my
children being out of the way. I am kept up from the melancholy
that surrounds me; the bell never ceases its doleful knell of death,
the muffled drums announce under my window a funeral, and the
stir in the room below where I sleep is a proof that the poor invalid
is still alive, though probably in anguish. We are advised against
going out of the house, a precaution that probably is very necessary.
Mrs. Trevor fears we may be obliged to pass another day here.
Friday.—The whole morning in making arrangements about
mules; at last the Commandant gave an order, and we have
obtained some. The price they ask is exorbitant, 70 louis for our
carriages, both of which are very light—one at least is. I have stolen
some of the Baron’s specimens of minerals; my conscience smites
me almost for the plunder. At six in the evening we set off for St.
Remy. My journey there was not pleasant as to my monture, for my
own saddle was broken, and I was, after shifting from pack saddles,
etc., obliged to submit to be chucked upon a sack of wheat on a
bête-de-somme. The muleteer considered me as a bale of goods
entrusted to his care to convey without damage, and so far thought
of me, but not the least as to my ease or comfort. As much as I
could see of the scenery by daylight very beautiful. La Cluse very
pretty, but we did not reach St. Remy till twelve o’clock, all tired and
cold, and such an inn! But it did shelter us from the bleak wind, and
that was a point gained.
We set off at half-past five o’clock to cross the famous mountain
of St. Bernard. It has only been used by travellers since the Mont
Cenis has been shut up by the neighbourhood of the French. I went
in a chaise à porteurs. Our carriages were dismounted and placed by
piecemeal on mules. We began ascending from St. Remy. The
mountains are from their base bare and without much vegetation,
the road so embarrassed with snow that I thought it impracticable
for the mules to bring the carriage. Just above St. Remy there is a
forest of larches, which the inhabitants preserve with the most
religious care, as their own safety is interested in its preservation,
for it protects them from the avalanches or chûte des neiges, so
fatal in these countries. The path is very narrow and rugged; here
and there immense blocks of granite intercept the passage, difficult
to be clambered over, but no precipices to terrify and make the head
giddy. Little torrents running down like cascades, the snow in many
places very soft, yielding readily to the pressure of the men’s feet.
In about three hours from St. Remy I reached the Convent. The
plain on which it stands is about two acres in extent; a black-looking
lake adjoining it was frozen. Eternal snows surround this peaceful,
melancholy dwelling, but the warmest charity issues from the bosom
of its inmates. Distress is claim enough to rouse them to every
action of spirited humanity. On a rock close to the lake stood a
temple to Jupiter, dedicated, some say, by Hannibal in his passage
across the mountain. Numbers of ex-voto are found here, a proof
that it was considered as a perilous pass by the ancients. It is the
highest habitation in the old world. It is 1246 toises[71] above the
level of the sea. A strong sense of active benevolence can alone
induce men to abandon the charms of the habitable world for this
triste séjour. The clavandier or steward of the Convent offered us
every refreshment. I accepted willingly some strong wine, and
wrapped myself in eiderdown for a couple of hours. The fine dogs
known for their sagacity in seeking the bewildered traveller lost
under a mass of snow were not at home; they were ranging over the
mountain.
I turned my back on Italy with regret. The men
carried me backwards down the mountain. The MT. ST.
snow on this side very deep, and they waded BERNARD
through it with great labour; they often fell, but I
was neither hurt nor frightened. My intrepidity is more owing to an
indifference about life than to natural courage. I have nothing to
love, so life is not to me invaluable. Half-way we stopped to look at
the melancholy receptacle for the bodies of those who perish on the
mountains. There is only one body; it has been exposed for a year,
but the rarefaction of the air was such that the putrefaction has not
commenced. It was shrivelled, but the features were perfectly
distinguishable. The sun set. We reached St. Pierre, a small village
dependent on the monastery we had just quitted. I lodged in the
house of a curé at Liddès, where I slept, who had formerly been a
monk in the upper region, but growing infirm he was rewarded with
half-freezing. He said he lived a happier life among the community
than in solitude. The small house he has is pretty and fantastically
covered with some creeping plant over the walls. Early in the
morning I was awakened by the melody of the birds and the
fragrance of the plants; the sun shone into my bed by 5 o’clock.
On the 14th, early in the morning, I set off. The carriages were
put upon the wheels, but the baggage was conveyed on mules. The
roads exceed anything I ever beheld in point of danger. A narrow
corniche without a garde-fou, upon the brink of a precipice of many
hundred feet; in some places I am sure the fall would have been
1500 perpendicular feet.
 The Drance gushes with the violence and noise of a torrent in the
valley. Orsières is the first village; the houses are made of wood with
immense high treillages to dry beans upon them. The next village
was Sembrancher; about half a mile on this side of it the view is
delicious—I was quite enraptured. We got close to the Drance,
whose roar whitened its waters. We crossed it frequently; one of the
bridges was very old and weak; they persuaded me to get out and
walk over it. The valley is evidently opened by violence, as the
angles of the mountains on each side correspond exactly. The
sublimity of the scenery among these mountains inspires one with a
notion of the grandeur of our world, but this thought is still
dissipated on a starlight night, for then we behold what a speck we
are in the creation—a twinkling orb like them.
We dined at Martigny, the capital of the Valois, a dirty town
abounding in loathsome objects, crétins and bugs. The much
celebrated cascade of the Pisse Vache was in full beauty, but even so
it is much inferior to Tivoli and Terni. The Rhône is very fine and the
adjacent country beautiful; we crossed it over an old Roman Bridge
at St. Maurice. Just on this side of the bridge the Berne bear
announced our arrival into its territory.
Upon my coming into Bex I met Prince Hatzfeldt and my tiresome
Scotch lover, Mr. Douglas. We supped together at the inn, where I
had a pretty terrace to walk upon out of my bedroom.
Early in the morning, Tuesday, 16th, I set off in a char-a-bande
[sic] to see the salines of Bex. My compagnon de voyage was, as
usual, ill-disposed and sulky, and spared me the torment of his
company. I went into a subterranean gallery perforated for 3000 feet
under the mountain; the smell of the lamps made me sick, and I
was obliged to return without seeing the cylinder which is the film
(?) of rock salt. The salt springs are fully impregnated with the saline
matter.
Left Bex at one o’clock. Dined at Vevey. Hodges
came out to meet us; he brought me a packet of LOST FRIENDS
letters. My father continues ill, but less
dangerously so than by my former letters. The last time I was in
Vevey the Guiches dined with us in a pavilion belonging to the Count
St. Leger. Ludlow’s[72] house is on the skirts of the town; the little
rampart round it formerly planted with swivels is still to be seen. He
lived in perpetual dread of being taken by the Royalist party; he was
often fired at. I felt melancholy at the sight of Lausanne now,
deserted by all the cheerful band who had assisted in making me
pass cheerfully some of the pleasantest hours of my uncomfortable
life. Gibbon’s house is abandoned; he is in England. Poor Ly.
Sheffield’s apartment will never again contain her; she is no more.
Mde. de Juigné is again no more. All my friends are living in obscure
poverty, or have fallen in the field of battle. The English here are the
Cholmondeleys, the old Duchess of Ancaster, Ld. Morpeth, his friend
who travels with him, and various other English, and the son of an
Irish bishop.
The events in Paris are still disgusting and bloody. Biron[73] is
impeached; the charge is having conducted the war with
insouciance. Those who know him say his disposition is to do
everything so, but he is humane and gentlemanlike. He preserved all
Lady Rivers’ goods, etc., when he entered Nice. Lord Beauchamp,
now Lord Yarmouth,[74] is at Frankfort upon some political mission;
hopes are entertained that it is to adjust a general Congress for the
termination of these horrid scenes. Ld. Porchester is made an earl,
as a reward for deserting Mr. Fox, whose party is breaking up apace;
some quit him from opinion, but most for the loaves and fishes
which are promised to them for their desertion. Mr. Fox’s debts are
to be paid by a subscription among his friends; he is to have an
annuity of 3000l. per annum. As he is not popular, people think it a
mean transaction, but formerly it was proposed as an honourable
one. Ld. Cholmondeley tells me that party runs very high in England,
disgustingly so.
I have heard that my dear children are well; Lady Shelley has
written me a satisfactory account of them. I went to Mde. Cerjat’s.
She is very unhappy about her sons; one is besieging Valenciennes.
From her gardens we saw across the lake to Evian, where the
detested tricolor flag is flying on the tree of liberty; we heard the
drums distinctly.
18th, Thursday.—A small dinner at home, Hodges, etc. In the
evening I went to the poor Duchess’s, who has not, I fear, many
weeks to languish. Lord Morpeth[75] is clever, very handsome, and
very captivating. I see the Cholmondeleys[76] are trying to catch him
for Miss L.; he appears indisposed to the project. He is evidently le
mieux possible with Mde. A. If I were addicted to coquetry I believe
I could easily become her rival, but I never possessed a particle of
the vanity necessary to such a character, nor is there anything in my
eyes flattering in such proceedings. A pretty young woman is always
sure of as many lovers as she chooses, but to me there would be
more humiliation than glory in such a train.
I dined at the Cholmondeleys; went to
Casanova’s ball, and amused myself the few days I MARAT’S DEATH
passed at Lausanne. Marat has been assassinated
by a young woman of the name of Charlotte Corday. She obtained
admittance whilst he was in the bath and pleaded for some of the
deputies, who are in prison; she approached him, drew a poniard,
and stabbed him to the heart. She was immediately seized, and the
Convention are employed in devising new tortures for her. This death
will occasion some change in their measures, as Marat was an
intrepid villain who had attached a party to himself.
The news from Valenciennes is dreadful: in an escalade
attempted by the allies 6000 men perished.[77]
La Fayette is still at Magdebourg.[78] His confinement seems both
hard and unjust. The following lines are written by Lord Camelford:
—
 D’un fanatisme aveugle oser braver la ménace,
De ses vils oppresseurs oser punir l’audace,
Oser aimer son Roi, vouloir briser ses fers,
Protéger l’innocence, et dompter les pervers;
Au noirceur de l’intrigue opposer le courage,
La constance à la mort, le mépris à l’outrage.
Favras, ce sont là des crimes aujourd’hui,
Le supplice est pour toi, et le laurier pour lui!
Pour ce pâle tribun, le tyran et l’esclave,
Le chef et le jouet du parti qui le brave.
Conspirateur hardi, timide pour le bien,
Étouffant les remords qui germent dans son sein.
Ce Cromwell sans talents, ce Brutus de la Foire,
Qui par ses crimes au moins se consigne à l’histoire,
Qui sait fouler aux pieds les autels et les lois,
Ensanglanter le trône et le lit de ses Rois;
Par de lâches complots accabler l’innocence.
Ce sont là de nos jours les vertus de la France.

Poor La Fayette, it overdoes his errors. I believe he was

compelled to go beyond his wishes, for as Dr. Johnson somewhere
says, ‘However faction finds a man, it seldom leaves him honest.’
Dumouriez[79] went to England; immediately upon his arrival he
informed Ld. Grenville, and begged to know whether he might be
permitted to remain. Ld. G. told him he applied to the wrong person,
as Mr. Dundas was the proper one to address, but he would venture
to assure him permission would not be granted, and implied the
sooner he went the better.
I was extremely irritated to find a few miles from Lausanne that
Mr. Douglas had followed me. I knew that a timely check might rid
me of his company for the journey. I therefore stopped the carriage,
spoke to him with cold civility, and gave him a message to Ly. C., as
I would not allow him to suppose I could imagine that he meant to
join me in travelling. He looked embarrassed, took the rebuff, and
returned back.
The Convention have satisfied themselves with ye guillotine for
Charlotte Corday. She behaved with the utmost intrepidity to the last
sad scene. Women have appeared at the Bar of the Convention
begging their infants might take the name of Marat, adding that they
renounced any other évangile than his works, all creeds but the
Constitution! Great reports of the success of the Royalist army; it is
said to be within sixteen leagues of Paris, but I confess, for one, that
I am incredulous, as the stories about it vary so much. Nantes was
in counter-revolution for thirty-six hours; Lyons is hostile to the
Convention, but the inhabitants are arrant Republicans. I believe
General Ferraris will defeat my wish of seeing the siege of
Valenciennes, as he will take it before I get thither.
Slept at Avenches. There is a curious mosaic
pavement, a vestige of it belonging to the Romans. STATE OF
Ld. Northampton[80] has lived here for fifteen FRANCE
years. The old town stood a mile further eastward. Some inscriptions
besides the tesselated pavement still remain, but the corroding
effect of time, and the still more destructive hand of man, have left
little to prove its former splendour.
24th July.—Set off at half-past seven o’clock. Just before we
entered the town of Morat we passed the chapel which contains the
bones of the Burgundians who fell on this spot in 1476; which finally
closed the long contests between the Swiss and the Duke of
Burgundy. The awful sight of these remains at once raises
melancholy and pleasing thoughts, for here were doomed to fall by
the folly of a tyrant several thousands of our species, and here also
the courage arising from a true spirit of liberty secured the
independence of this country.
Charles the Bold was defeated at Grandson and at Morat. At this
place he lost the famous diamond, known since by the name of the
Sancy diamond. It was found on the field of battle by a Swiss soldier,
who sold it to a priest for a florin, who sold it again for half a crown.
It then fell into the hands of Antony, King of Portugal, and from him
the Baron of Sancy obtained it. This diamond afterwards served as a
pledge for a sum of money lent by the Swiss to Henry III. of France.
[81]
 We came here (Berne) at about two o’clock. This is the neatest,
dullest, coldest town I ever knew. I am sitting in a south room on
the 24th of July, and I protest I am half frozen. This is the capital of
the canton, and is a far more magnificent city than might be
expected in a territory whose extent does not exceed much an
English county. It is situated on a hill, round which the Aar winds its
course, and protects the town from sudden surprise: it might easily
be destroyed by a bombardment from the surrounding hills that
command it. The streets are wide, clean, and well paved. The
houses, like those in dear, dear Italy, built on arcades, an admirable
convenience for the foot passengers in the rains of winter or the
heats of summer. I think it must fill the mind of a true John Bull with
envy to see the town of a province like this, or a small capital like
Turin, surrounded with public walks, extensive avenues, and
magnificent approaches, whilst their own metropolis can be
approached only by shabby, narrow turnpike roads. Ld. and Ly.
Robert Fitzgerald live in the faubourgs; I shall call upon them, and
then pay my respects to the bears. I suffer pain from the intense
cold.
Leaving Berne at 9 o’clock on Thursday, July 25, the travellers took
the road to Hindelbank. Of the country Lady Webster records:—
The soil continues the same; hills covered with firs and forest
trees, rich pasture, clean farming. As wood is more plentiful than
stone, houses are principally built of it; the projecting roofs are
useful for barns and outhouses, but for habitations of human
creatures they must be unwholesome by excluding the rays of the
sun, and confining the smoke of the wood fires. Every step that
approaches me to England lowers my spirits. Oh! how I abhor the
thoughts of living in that country. No friends, few relations!
We slept at a little village the name of which I
cannot write. Set off at an early hour. The small THE SWISS
Swiss inns are delightful, so convenient, so well CHARACTER
furnished with excellent provisions. The people are
passively civil, which is all one requires; they have neither the cold
neglect of a French inn, the indifference and clamour of an Italian
one, or the insupportable officiousness of an English one. The Swiss
have more junketing parties than any other people. Arrive at any
hour, day or night, and one finds the inns crammed and the people
stuffing their bellies.
We dined at Lutzburgh;[82] at the top of an isolated hill there is
an old castle, which commands the town. This route is better
calculated to please the farmer and the quiet landscape painter than
the mineralogist or poet. The country is flat and rich, and the scenes
are pleasing and tranquil: not a study for the pencil of a Salvator.
About a mile from Lutzburgh we entered the canton of Lucerne. The
line of demarcation between the Catholic and Protestant canton is
more strongly marked by the manners and habitations of the
peasants, than by any fictitious boundary prescribed by law. Poverty,
dirt, and misery are the visible attendants of the former, a manifest
and glaring contrast to the characteristics of the latter, where wealth,
cleanliness and ease abounds. The politician must explain the causes
of this melancholy difference between the adjoining countries.
 The road led past Mellingen to Baden, where they passed the
night. ‘M. Barthelémy, formerly Secretary to the Embassy in London
and now Minister from France to the Swiss Cantons, resides at this
melancholy place.’
On July 27th they crossed the Rhine at Kaiserstuhl and went on to
Laufen.
Sunday, 28th.—Schaffhausen is a melancholy, triste town. The
tinkling of the bells of the church close to my room and the
abominable psalmody distracted my ears and shattered my nerves. I
got up many hours sooner than I intended, as rest was unattainable.
I like rather the bells of convents; there is something cheerful in
Catholicism, but these dull Protestants make religion frightful in their
way of following it. The nasal melody of these devout
Schaffhauseners, who are at this moment screaming themselves
hoarse to chant the praises of God, would have met with little mercy
if the heathen mythology were in force, as Apollo would have
dispatched their discordant souls to the regions below. We went to
the proper place to see the famous cataracts; they are tremendous,
the noise is more powerful than artillery could make, I believe. I
think the fall is about 100 feet. The river does not recover its
stillness for some time after the chute ruffles its waters.
Monday, 29th.—Set off at 5 o’clock, and bid
adieu to the clean cottages and bold, craggy RIVAL STREAMS
mountains of Switzerland. We were advised
against the Basle road, as it approaches so very near the French
frontier that we might unwillingly have seen some skirmishes. Here
the dwellings of the inhabitants resemble those of Lincolnshire, mud
walls, and the inhabitants as filthy as the ground they tread on. The
circle of Swabia is reckoned to be a fertile and well-cultivated
country and its population proves that its peasantry are well fed. The
hills are well covered with fir and oak, the remains of the old
Hercynian Forest that once overspread this part of Germany from
the Danube to the Rhine. The wild boar and the wolf are the only
savage animals that inhabit these regions. The clearing of the forest
has very much influenced the climate of Italy; Kirwan thinks by its
destruction Lombardy is become warmer. We crossed a ridge of sand
hills; on the top of them I observed the rills of water to run in
different directions, forming small rivulets to the north and south
sides. These continue their course from their original direction. A
lively imagination might fancy their lamentations at the impossibility
of their ever meeting again in their native country. ‘I go,’ says the
northern drop, ‘to join the slow-flowing Danube, and quench the
thirst of the heavy-paced, mechanical German, the proud,
independent, but crushed Hungarian, and the lazy, ignorant, slavish
Turk. In my way I shall wash the walls of Vienna, Presburg, and
Belgrade, and then in company with the waters of Poland and of
Russia will try to live in harmony with the waters of the Euxine Sea.’
‘And I,’ says the merry southern drop, ‘will rush on to the rapid
Rhine, wash the coast of the brave and hardy Swiss, will then avoid
the once cheerful Frenchmen, and frisk down to the North Sea,’ and,
if he is of my mind, will avoid the chalky coast of England.
Arrived at midnight at Pallingen; I slept in a billiard room, a
meuble neither ornamental, comfortable, nor useful.
Tuesday, 30th.—Hechingen, the first post from where we slept,
the seat of the King of Prussia’s family, the Counts of Hohenzollern.
They possess a small principality, the revenues of which are 7000l.
per annum, yet the great Frederick was descended from a younger
branch of this petty prince. A lively Frenchman said, ‘Parbleu, voilà
un cadet qui a fait fortune.’ The castle stands upon a high and steep
hill. They tell a story of one of its princes seeing from its terrace the
rich country of Würtemberg, and saying, ‘What an addition would
the petit canton of Würtemberg be to the territory of Hohenzollern.’
We dined there. Just entering Tübingen the country pretty: woods
inclining to a valley, watered by a little rill. Tübingen appears to have
been new built, but still in that terrible taste which prevails all over
Lower Germany. Black beams placed crossways and the interstices
filled up with plaster, high roofs, gable ends, and two or three stories
of garret windows in the roof; the whole gives a mean appearance
and disfigures a town as much as the style of English architecture,
though this has the superiority, as the houses have the advantage of
being spacious. A filthy, disgusting practice prevails here, that of
placing the dunghills precisely in front of their houses. In the towns
they are in a line with the bench before the house, on which they sit
smoking and regaling themselves after dinner; in the villages, they
are in the middle of the streets, and it requires some skill in the
postillions to steer safely between them. Beyond Tübingen a noble
forest of immense extent, part of the Hercynian; it is full of fine
oaks. I cannot make myself in the least understood in the language
of which Pope says:—
Language which Boreas might to Auster hold,
More rough than forty Germans when they scold.

I cannot connect two words so as to form the simplest sentence. We

reached Stuttgart at 12 o’clock at night.
Lord Mulgrave passed in his way to Milan: some official business
carries him. Custine is sent to the Abbey [sic], which is the first step
towards the scaffold.[83] Mayence fell on ye 25th.
31st July.—A Scotch gentleman of the name of Stuart, brother to
Mrs. Hippisley, showed me everything to be seen. The Academy, a
noble institution for young military. The Duke[84] was very
extravagant formerly, but he has adopted many salutary reforms.
The palace is very grand: it was made in his days of splendour. He
has now abandoned this place and Louisbourg[85] and lives totally at
Hohenheim, a château upon which he has also spent immense
sums. His cruelty is checked by his Duchess, a good woman; but his
marriage with her was a mésalliance.
Mayence surrendered upon capitulation: ye
22nd the Prussians marched in. They endeavoured FALL OF
to persuade the Elector to return, but he was MAYENCE
afraid to trust himself among his loyal subjects.
Beauharnais had a bloody battle with the army of observation. He
was trying to succour Mayence: victory was wavering for some
hours, but he did not attain his object, consequently was defeated.
We slept at Louisbourg about twelve miles from Stuttgart; the palace
and gardens are sumptuous, the Opera house is the largest in
Europe. Here in former times Vestris and Noverre tripped upon the
light fantastic toe to the admiration and gawky imitation of the
clumsy German. To-morrow we shall reach Heidelberg.
1st August, Thursday.—Left Louisbourg at 6 o’clock. Heilbronn, a
free Imperial city, very dull, and declining; the Neckar runs by it.
Open corn country. I did not visit the Tun, so extolled for its size; I
passed a most restless night on account of the myriads of little white
bugs. Got to Mannheim at 12. The whole town is animated, a
garrison in the town of 6000 men, bodies of troops passing through,
couriers coming and going. All too evidently proves the vicinity to
the seat of war, but though a little alarming, yet one feels hurried on
by an interesting curiosity. The town is beautiful; large stone
buildings, fine wide streets, and all the objects cheerful and
pleasing. The Gallery contains many fine pictures, some charming
Murillos; and good Flemish artists have contributed. The Cabinet has
some beautiful specimens of mineralogy. At Valenciennes poor
Tollemache[86] was killed in the trenches. He is Ly. Bridget’s only
son; a spent bomb struck against his bowels and he expired the next
day. We go to-morrow to Mayence, which I expect to find a heap of
ruins.
Saturday, Mannheim, 3rd August.—I have been reading the
sommation and articles of capitulation of Valenciennes. The allies
have accorded the garrison in it to return to France but to be
considered prisoners of war, with a promise that they will not serve
until they have been regularly exchanged for other prisoners.[87] It
is very unlikely that they should abide by this convention, and, to
say the truth, were I the Government of France they should not.
Lord Yarmouth told me a trait of French légèreté that amused me.
After the D. of York’s sommation there was a parley, during which
many people came out of the town. The first intimation the Duke
had that the terms were accepted was by the director of the Theatre
coming to ask what piece H.R.H. would order the next day.
 We left Mannheim at 10. The Elector’s carriage
went out of the same gate with us; it was going to THE SEAT OF
Turkheim to bring the King of Prussia here. WAR
Turkheim is the capital of the States of the unlucky
Count of Leiningen who was seized in his palace by the Patriots, who
keep him as a hostage for Camus, Beurnonville, and the other
deputies delivered by Dumouriez to the Austrians. The road is all
alive; troops, recruits, baggage waggons, ammunition waggons, sick
and wounded, stragglers, cavalry, all proclaim the direful din of arms
is at hand. At Worms we were forced to stop; three long hours have
we already waited, not a horse to be had. The Cathedral is a large,
ugly brick edifice, in which a few months ago 3000 patriots lodged.
During their predatory excursion they levied hard contributions upon
the townspeople to the amount of 12,000 florins.
4th August, Sunday.—Quitted Oppenheim at 6. Followed the
course of the Rhine: the roads almost destroyed by the quantity of
heavy artillery that had passed to the siege of Mayence. A long file
of ammunition waggons looked very pretty at a distance. I was
gratified with sight of pontoons to make a bridge. I shall become
very skilful in military tactics if I remain amidst the clangour of war.
A mile from Mayence upon the road a small fascine battery to
prevent succour getting to the city. The faubourgs totally destroyed,
not a house with a roof on it. Cortheim is a complete ruin; out of
180 houses and two churches not a vestige except the stones
remain. The works at Cassel, the other faubourg, are surprising.
They were raised by the French, who seemed as if they meant to fix
there, as they had begun to face the works with stone. A thick
abattis remains all round the fortifications still. The town is very
much damaged: the Cathedral is almost a heap of ruins, the front
tower remains tottering without an atom of roof. The Electoral
Palace is converted into a hospital where many victims to the folly
and ambition of their employers are languishing. La Favorita, a
maison de plaisance of the Elector, is razed to the ground. We drove
to Cortheim. It was a melancholy sight; scorched walls, fields of self-
sown corn grown up with weeds, unpruned vines trampled by
cavalry, a houseless town, and every symptom of desolation and
solitude. During the siege the French devoured horseflesh, and have
consumed so many that they are really scarce; we can get none to
go on with. I talked with an émigré, who seems well acquainted with
many of my friends. His prejudices are absurd; he is as violent
against the first Assembly as he is against the atrocious Convention.
5th of August, Frankfort.—The bridge of boats out of Mayence
would frighten a timid person to cross with frisky horses; ours did
not answer that description. We took the voiturins to Frankfort. We
met a troop of French prisoners, who looked more as if they were
going to take possession of the city than of its prisons. I sat up very
late from downright low spirits. I cannot bear up whenever I am
alone; there is a desponding feel that steals over my mind and
prevents me from occupying myself in any way. ‘La mort ne vient
jamais à propos,’ someone says; I want to die, but I do not, and I
shall die (most likely) when I could dispense with it. The Maison
Rouge, a vast pile of buildings. The whole town has a bourgeois air
about it. It has not suffered by the French. I do not care if it does or
not. Custine only took one million of florins: they can bear much
more squeezing. It is said that the English fleet is at length in the
Mediterranean: I have heard the report so often that I doubt the
truth of it.
6th August, Frankfort.—Obliged to stay dinner,
as horses were out of the question for some hours. KÖNIGSTEIN
The common route is by Hattersheim, but we were
advised to go by Königstein, as the other had been destroyed to
retard the progress of the French. The road we went was dreadful;
several times I thought the carriage would have been overset.
Obliged to sleep at this place (Königstein) for the old reason—want
of horses. This place has been destroyed by military rage; the
houses are burnt and gutted. The French maintained themselves
here two months against the allies, and then only yielded to famine.
It was quite touching to see some of the hoary sons of St. Francis
lamenting over the ruins of their solitary cells, their untenanted
convent, and degraded altars. The hill upon which the fortress
stands is isolated, and commands a fine view of the plain of the
Rhine. The French surrendered to the Russians. The common people
detest their old masters, and long for the return of their democratic
friends, whose principles are captivating to the lower classes: every
man enjoys the prospect of placing his humble cot on a level with
the proud palace, forgetting that the equality can only be maintained
by lowering the palace to the cot. My companion in a paroxysm
threw the book I was reading at my head, after having first torn it
out of my hands.
7th August.—Set off at 7 from Königstein; the road insufferably
bad. Austrian soldiers marching from Linz into Brabant. One poor
fellow was lying on the ground roaring from the torture of a colic. I
gave him money, and as we were going the same road had him
placed upon the second carriage, that took him on till we overtook a
baggage waggon: he was a poor Croat not twenty years old. Slept at
Montabaur.
8th August.—Passed through a noble forest of enormous extent.
Coblentz is charmingly situated upon the Rhine. We crossed the river
on a pont volant. The émigrés are no longer allowed to remain in
the town; this foyer of counter-revolution is at present very dull and
democratic. Just out of the town we crossed the Moselle, which
there falls into the Rhine. We followed the course of the Rhine to
Bonn, the country rich and populous. Just before we entered Bonn, I
was delighted at the sight of a very magnificent ruin of a baronial
castle, with a high tower, upon a solitary rock. We slept at Bonn,
which is now the residence of the Elector of Cologne, who is the
uncle of the Emperor.
9th August.—Stopped at Cologne, an ugly, dirty town; everything
looked black, houses, water, faces, trees. Road to Donningen[88]
deep sand and bad. Three miles from Dusseldorf crossed the Rhine,
which is very wide and begins to lose its transparency, on a pont
volant. The gates of Dusseldorf were shut, and we were compelled
to take refuge under a very comfortless roof; I lay upon the floor a
prey to every sort of vermin, bugs, spiders, earwigs—filthy. I never
was really annoyed at any gîte before this.
10th August.—The gallery contains some excellent pictures.[89]
Rubens, Vanderwerfs, and some Italian masters. Twenty-five
Vanderwerfs. Small cabinet pictures his finished, detailed style suits,
but he fails when he attempts history pictures. His pendant to
Raphael’s ‘St. John’ shows that he did not understand effect; the
figure of Magdalen looks like a carving in ivory, and the hair like a
flaxen wig. A game piece by Sneiders, a single figure in it done by
Rubens, a chef d’œuvre. In general a picture painted by different
hands either fails in harmony or in composition, but not this one, as
each are perfect. Sneiders’ high finishing forced Rubens to give more
force and less glare. This picture makes one regret that Rubens had
not always some reason to paint in this energetic style. Two fine
Boths. Fine Berghem. The ‘Charlatan,’ by Gerard Dow, a charmingly
executed Dutch picture, as fine as the celebrated ‘Femme
Hydropique,’ by the same hand, at Turin. The evening was rainy, and
the weather very unpromising, but the whim was to go on, and on
we went to Furth. When we arrived there were no beds; I and my
maid sat up in a small room, and Sir G. and the servants slept as
they could in the carriages.
Sunday.—In the road to Juliers there are works
upon the road made by the French whilst they DUSSELDORF
were in possession of this country. Juliers is an
ugly town belonging to the Elector of Bavaria. At Aix-la-Chapelle
heard the melancholy tale of the Queen’s being sent to the
Conciergerie. Unhappy woman! there is little hope of peace for her
in this life. Gaston continues successful in Brittany. He appears to
rise by magic, suddenly he advances at the head of thousands, and
then as suddenly they dissolve into air. It is a pity the emigrants are
not sent to succour him, but I confess I begin to fear the liberal,
generous, and gallant Englishman looks at France with a mercantile,
suspicious eye. Slept at Aix-la-Chapelle.
Welcome to our website – the ideal destination for book lovers and
knowledge seekers. With a mission to inspire endlessly, we offer a
vast collection of books, ranging from classic literary works to
specialized publications, self-development books, and children's
literature. Each book is a new journey of discovery, expanding
knowledge and enriching the soul of the reade

Our website is not just a platform for buying books, but a bridge
connecting readers to the timeless values of culture and wisdom. With
an elegant, user-friendly interface and an intelligent search system,
we are committed to providing a quick and convenient shopping
experience. Additionally, our special promotions and home delivery
services ensure that you save time and fully enjoy the joy of reading.

Let us accompany you on the journey of exploring knowledge and

personal growth!

ebookmass.com