Monthly Archives: February 2016

Thursday, 5 January 1865

Rose at 7. Entirely clear & bright all day ― now very cold.

Worked till 9 at coloring Corniche sketches.

After breakfast ― letter from T. Cooper ― wh. Answered! ―

Then ― about 11 ― suddenly resolved to try if could do 4 Five pound drawings in a day ― or even three.

Began snmall drawings of Nice, Eza, Villefranche, & Mentone, & by 4. P.M. had nearly penned out all.

Walked to V. Sassernò with G. to shew him the way to it, & left answer to Mr. Hankey’s note.

Posted letter to T. Cooper.

Dined at 6.30. 2nd note from Thompson-Hankey with cheque for 20£.

Penned out the 4th small drawing, & one of Turbia.

1st day of 5 pounders.


[Transcribed by Marco Graziosi from Houghton Library, Harvard University, MS Eng. 797.3. Image.]

Leave a comment

Filed under 1865, Diary Entry

Wednesday, 4 January 1865

Downcast.

Rose at 7. Worked at the drawings ― the Tyrants ― till 3.

Day perfectly bright & lovely throughout.

Called on Mrs. Reilly ― a kind old lady. And walked up to Cimies.[1] The view from the Convent is wide ― but hardly beautiful.

Returning, found a very kind letter from Thomson-Hankey ― with a wish to have some drawings ― & to pay 20£ now. ―

Dined well. Heard G. read.

Penned out, 4 drawings. ―


[1] Cimiez, a district of Nice.


[Transcribed by Marco Graziosi from Houghton Library, Harvard University, MS Eng. 797.3. Image.]

Leave a comment

Filed under 1865, Diary Entry

Tuesday, 3 January 1865

Rose at 7.15. Breakfast 9.

Worked, more or less, from 8 to 9 ― & from 10 to 3.30. At coloring some of the penned Corniche views ― at a few of the Palestine drawings &c. &c. &c. ― but uneasily & vexed.

Letter from C. Fortescue.

Gave Porter ― (a ^[very] nasty little man,) 20 franchi supposing it to be in advance for his 15fr. Per month, ― but he told G. it was a Xmas gift. So I couldn’t stand this, & “explained” the fact plainly to him ― giving him 5fr. For himself, & 15fr. For my ‘months’ pay. Χωρὶς ἐντροπῆ εἶναι ἀυτοὶ[1] ― says G. & truly.

At 4 ― (it rained somewhat,) went to the Villa Sassernò ― to see the Thomson-Hankeys, & staid there till 5.20.

Home ― dined: ― & penned out till 10. It is cold. ―

XX


[1] These have no sense of shame.


[Transcribed by Marco Graziosi from Houghton Library, Harvard University, MS Eng. 797.3. Image.]

Leave a comment

Filed under 1865, Diary Entry

Monday, 2 January 1865

XX(1)

Rose at 7.30. Wrote ― Breakfast 9 ― Wrote ― 7 letters ―

Ν. Κοκαλὴ
F. Lushington.
C. Fortescue.
Fanny Coombe
Mrs. Robinson.
Augusta Bethell.
Ellen Newsom.

Went to Bank at 2.30 & got 10£.

At 4 ― to Lady Duncan’s ― Anna D. looks very sadly.

Home at 6. Dined, & penned out 4 drawings.

Wonderfully lovely day!

perfectly bright & calm.


[Transcribed by Marco Graziosi from Houghton Library, Harvard University, MS Eng. 797.3. Image.]

Leave a comment

Filed under 1865, Diary Entry

Sunday, 1 January 1865

Rose at 7. Arranging &c. &c. made it 10 before breakfast. Morning gray.

Wrote, & arranged drawings, ― & at 2, went (to lunch) at Mr. Lyons. Walked with Dr. & Mrs. Deakin, & then called on Pantaleoni, whom I saw.

Concerning Card: A. ― D. Lermonta &c. Papal infallibility ― Galileo &c. &c. &c.

Walked to the Hotel des Princes to see if Lady Duncan was there: ὅχι.[1]

Called on the Cortazzi ― Helena & Maddalena to wit. A sensation of κενανία.[2]

On Mrs. Smith Barry ― out. No, ill.

Went to the [blank space][3] to dine, ― & saw Mrs. Saltmarshe, but sate apart next a Major Rich, who, I found (besides being an intelligent & agreable companion,) knew the Campions & Blencowes well. ― Wade-Browns ― & many others. So I asked him to come back with me, & we had coffee & cigars & Marsala, yea ― till 9.30.


[1] No.

[2] Nina does not know the word, which might mean “emptiness.”

[3] Presumably the Mediterranée, where he usually saw Mrs. Saltmarshe.


[Transcribed by Marco Graziosi from Houghton Library, Harvard University, MS Eng. 797.3. Image.]

Leave a comment

Filed under 1865, Diary Entry

Saturday, 31 December 1864

Morning cold ― bright. Rose 6 ― & off soon after 7 ― leaving luggage for the Vetturino to take. Drew above Mentone ― & again, above Rocca Bruna,[1] very lovely road.

Draw at intervals all the way to below Turbia[2] ― (luggage passing then & there[)], & here we lunched, (as on the 1st day of the tour, off the road ― by some rox,) at 12.30. (A large capon was sent by the Mentone Host, & overcharged ― the surplus being owing to the 2.50 disbursed by his father at S. Remo ― we think. ― Clouded sky. Turbia is immensely fine & grand ―― the vast dim lilac headland beyond the huge wrinkled face of rock, ― down, down to the gulf of olives; & with the old Roman=division tower above all. Last Lunch of this series. Walnut, & other fruit trees abound about Turbia. Went up to the tower, & a most immense Roman work: & then to the high road again ― drawing Eza 3 or 4 times ― a grand object ― on the way: & the last time ― the last sketch of the Corniche ― at 4. P.M.

Taking the short cut at the four roads, we got into Nice very surprisingly soon ― & sent on G. to open & light the rooms, while I at 5.30, dined at the Hotel du Nord. A large lot of people ― a bore. ―

Came to 61. Promenade des Anglais, & found all things comfortable. Many letters ―

Νικολος Κοκαλης ― a short & well-written letter, but enough to put poor G. comfortable.

  1. T. Cooper ― with papers.
  2. Ellen ―
  3. Jane H. Hunt. ―
  4. T. Fairbairn ―
  5. W. Holman Hunt.
  6. F. Lushington ―
  7. Mrs. G. Scrivens ――
  8. Gussie Bethell
  9. Mrs. Bell
  10. P. Williams.

Put rooms into some order; ― & am now going to bed: 9.30 ― or 10. Considering the winter season in wh. I undertook this Corniche tour, it has been wonderfully prosperous.

So ends 1864. Ἐτελειώθη.[3]


[1] Now Roquebrune-Cap-Martin.

[2] La Turbie.

[3] Finished.


[Transcribed by Marco Graziosi from Houghton Library, Harvard University, MS Eng. 797.3. Image.]

Leave a comment

Filed under 1864, Diary Entry

Friday, 30 December 1864

Rose at 6 ― ([glorious] clear morning,) but, having said nothing about early rising, no one came up. So, by the time we got away it was 7.40. The Hole d’Angleterre is vastly clean & nice: Cooking good, & W.C. best in all the Riviera. Joined the 4 horse Vettura, which G. had arranged with, ―& was off at 8. Uninteresting road from S. Remo ― & next village. Railway workmen &c. Just before reaching Bordighéra, at 9.15 ― leave Vettura, & poke up queer lanes & into olive woods & palm gardens to find a “view.” Very beautiful semi oriental places, & Corfu-like groves of olives ― which bewitched me ― together with the bright sky ― & I drew till 10.30. Came down the hill, & thereabout is one of the finest of all the Riviera “panoramas” ― so drew again till 11, & did not get to the Hotel d’Angleterre till 11.30. “Neat” house. Capital breakfast ― (6.20)[.] Looked at rooms: I fancy this would have been the nicest winter place of all.

Ventimiglia. [December 1864?] Sepia ink over graphite on cream paper. 35.2 x 50.7 cm.

Ventimiglia. [December 1864?] Sepia ink over graphite on cream paper. 35.2 x 50.7 cm.

Off at 12.20 ― highly content. Hear, & pass Pifferari: & at 1 reach Ventimiglia, & leave carriage. Drew in river bed ― mighty picturesque scene! On ― & draw again ― & then, lengths of road ― olive groves ― & long ascents, till 3 brought us near the last ascent. ― Delay, owing to blasted rox. Grand view of Mentone ― 3.40. ―

Exit from Italy ―― which I am vexed at.

At 4.15 arrive at Dogana, (no passports asked for) & Roba is visited: suspicions of disgusting old cove, & smilings of superior. (Having walked, & sent on Boxes ― [alarms][1] the official dogana=mind horribly. Stopped at Bazaar, & bought 9. Photographs ― 45fr.: & wanted a “[Ciottera]” but had not enough to make up 3fr. by 20 cents ― so the beastly frightful man wouldn’t let me have it. ― At the Hotel Londres by 5: & hastily dressing, dined at 5.30 table d’hôte. Very agreeable Lady elderly, & one younger, a Lady Sandford ― & lo ― her niece, Miss Murray, is here. But in a villa up a mile off & I couldn’t go. ―

Tomorrow I am to walk to Nice, & send Luggage on.

Beautiful new moon tonight.


[1] Partially blotted.


[Transcribed by Marco Graziosi from Houghton Library, Harvard University, MS Eng. 797.3. Image.]

Leave a comment

Filed under 1864, Diary Entry

Thursday, 29 December 1864

Δὲν βρέχει[1] ― says G. at 6. So I rise, & commit the roba (at 7) to the care of one Cío of Mentone, who is to leave it at the Inghilterra Hotel at S. Remo. ^[Bill & porterage ― 31fr.] Cío, says, go with me, not there only, but to Nice, ― but he asks 40 francs, & I decline ― as now (at 8 P.M.) think, foolishly. The Vittoria at Oneglia is an honest Inn: little show, much attention, & moderate charge. At 7.30 ― I & the Suliot thread the long Oneglia St.; pass the bridge, (which G. wishes he possessed close by the Lanterna at Genoa, & that everyone had to pay a soldo,)[2] & so to P. Maurizio ― “Cío” passing us with ἀσπασμοῦς.[3] Beyond P. Maurizio, drew it, till near 9. And at 9.30, S. Lorenzo. Through that village by 10 ― all of which is ugliness, ― a continuance of hideous landslips & railway works impossible to imagine, & difficult to see without disgust. As I counted several fifties of men at work, I suppose them having been 1000 or 1500 between Oneglia & S. Remo.

At 11 ― tired of the long earth banks on one side & sea on t’other, ― St. Stefano[4] was neared: which I drew till 11.30: & then we lunched on the shore, & noon striking ― fled away. The climate’s becoming ’ot, & all things change. Pass thro’ St. Stefano, an uninteresting village ― & on, by more clay & olive & precipice ― to Riva,[5] a rather larger, but not lovelier place. The day is truly lovely, & every hour it becomes clearer & lovelier. The road strikes inward before coming to Arma,[6] & at 1 ― 1.20 ― pass over the bridge of Taggia, & draw the valley, wh. is wild & grand. And there are olives ― & some respite from the Eternal sea. At 1.30 ― Arma ― a livelier village ― but equally undrawable with its 2 predecessors Χώφια.[7] A most singularly dull road ― but that the sky becomes more beautiful, & air warmer. || 2. P.M. Below the Madonna di Capo Verde ― ever Railway works, & ugliness ― breaking of stones & raking of dirt; ― Certainly, nothing could have been lost by not seeing this piece of road, for the whole is ugly. The last of it is a long 1864-12-29 point of Cape, a dull peak ― with Arma, Riva, & St. Stefano in white dot=lines on its lower edge. At 2.30 ― G. suddenly says ― “Ἱδοῦ ι Ριφεράρι!”[8] ― & there they were: 2.40 overtake them, who from Picinisco come; make them play, & give them 4 soldi. | What memories those Abruzzi bagpipes recall ― masterfully!!! Dull road to San Remo. At 3.15 Hotel d’Angleterre ― clean & nice. Wonderful change of climate! The sunset ― (seen from an open window,) is glorious. At 5. P.M. nothing could be more beautiful. Dinner μόνος ― good: but a bottle of Marsala ― vile & undrinkable. ― Sent G. to see about progress tomorrow, & the Suliot returns, having “Combinared”[9] with a Vett: to go to Mentone for 20fr. wisely & well: for they said here, you can only take a vettura as far as Ventimiglia &c. ―


[1] Not raining.

[2] A coin.

[3] Kisses.

[4] Now Santo Stefano al Mare.

[5] Riva Ligure.

[6] Arma di Taggia.

[7] Villages (χωριά).

[8] Behold “i Pifferari,” i.e. “the fife players” in Italian

[9] From the Italian “combinare” with the English “-d” participle, “agreed.”


[Transcribed by Marco Graziosi from Houghton Library, Harvard University, MS Eng. 797.3. Image.]

Leave a comment

Filed under 1864, Diary Entry

Wednesday, 28 December 1864

The wind fell, & stars riz ― so there were hopes of fine weather. Cats jumped about in that vast church-like dining room ― & threw down lots of chairs: yet on the whole slept well.

Diano. 3 P.M. 28 December 1864. (112).

Diano. 3 P.M. 28 December 1864. (112).

A strange rambling inn & very Italian: a W.C. opening out of the huge room ― & all the other rooms ― doors & windows, banging & screeching with the fearful storm of wind. Frivolities of lace & curtains ― ἀντὶ[1] bolts & shutters. ― At 5 I woke, & it was calm & fine; so I decided to send luggage by Vetturinos, returning with empty carriages ― & walking. Rose at 5.30, ― & by 7 was impatient for bill & coffee: ― but could not get off before 8. The morning was lovely: Drew Languelia ― that most compact & picturesque little town, twice ― till 9.30. Then came up the Capo delle Mele ― & happily with little or no wind ―: & there took leave of the Genoese views ― C,. di Noli ― &c. Much warmer day. Down to the uninteresting bay of Adorna[2] ― & up on the other side, where we lunched ― (hard eggs & salami,) & I drew ― till 1. P.M. C. delle Mele has really very little beauty ― but its lighthouse is fine & grandly built. Nor has the dull valley of Adorna any claim to “arrest the traveller.” At 1. went on round the Capo of Adorna, & at Cervi[3] ― drew that perky town, & thence by the straight olive=road to Diano. That town is not interesting in itself, tho’ the whole valley is so from its multitude of villages & profusion of olive culture.

Drew twice ― 2.30 ― & 3 ― on the west side ― & then slowly came up the high cape ― & by degrees ― at 4 ― 4.15 ― down the hill to Oneglia. Found luggage all right: & it is evidently a good if not a cheap plan to send it on by Vetturini thus.

At 5.30 dined ― & at 7.30 γράφω τοῦτο.[4]

The Valley of Diano is perhaps the most beautiful & rich of all in this Riviera.


[1] Instead of.

[2] Actually Andora.

[3] Cervo, Lear is not very good with Italian place names at this point.

[4] Write this.


[Transcribed by Marco Graziosi from Houghton Library, Harvard University, MS Eng. 797.3. Image.]

Leave a comment

Filed under 1864, Diary Entry

Tuesday, 27 December 1864

Pouring rain all night!!!! XXX ― ― Rose at 8 ― 8.30. What to do? Drawing would not be possible ― & there is little to draw ahead. So I wait for the Bus, which should come at 9.30 from Savona. At 10.15 ― I was off in it ― a small 3 horse vehicle ― with G. & an old cove in front. Wind frightful, & at times rain. Gusts of sand.

(Luggage from Savona to Finale was 5.30. Bill here ― 22.50. And the Bus to Albenga is to be 6 or 7 ― & a car thence to Alassio 3 or 4.)

Snow on all hills. Loano river low. Back through all the walk of the 16th & reach Albenga at 12.15. Have left Bus, & consigned roba to boy with vehicle: every creature on this Riviera is civil & kindly ― without exception, hitherto. G. & I find a place free from wind near the E. wall, & sit & lunch on Eggs & sausage. A queer journey this. Walk on at 1: wind not unbearable. The olive grown flat ground ― (olives blown down by wind! ―) & then the rising road to the corner of the bay of Alassio: ― wind violent by fits. from 2 to 2.50 drew, but then rain came on, so we rushed down to & through the long street of Alassio by 3. La Bella Italia ― as before. Luggage all right.

At present ― 4. P.M. ― the wind & rain are egregious, & I see no chance of getting hence tomorrow ― & very little of sleep tonight ― vû the banging of doors & windows.

The little Cameriere-Segretario is ἔξω,[1] so there are only the infinite Γυναῖκες.[2] The wind ― if possible increases ― & various Vetturini stop. At 6. Dinner is brought by the very aff.te & unclean handmaiden. Peculiarly nasty soup: ― uneatable fish. Leathery Cutlet, with eatable potatoes: stringy lamb, with admirable turnips, & other things wholly uneatable. The poor women are however obliging & do all they can, & the amount of nastiness in the shape of sweets they have sent up is incredible. As for me, I have had some Marsala, & at 7.30, mi ritiro.[3] I ask G. if he can find out about the Vetturini movements, ― but he says ― ἔχουν χρυσὰ κατένα κὶ ὡρολόγια, καὶ ὀμιλοῦσι διὰ τοῦς εἁυτούς των.[4] ― I do not at all know what to do about tomorrow: ― inclining somewhat to wait for one more day’s chance. The (big) Diligence has just passed: what a fearful life in winter these drivers lead.


[1] The little Waiter-secretary is out

[2] Women.

[3] I retire.

[4] They have gold chains [Italian ‘catena’] and watches, and talk about themselves.


[Transcribed by Marco Graziosi from Houghton Library, Harvard University, MS Eng. 797.3. Image.]

Leave a comment

Filed under 1864, Diary Entry