



Produced by Irma Spehar, Moti Ben-Ari and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net. (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)









[Illustration: _London, Published by I. Murray, 1819_
SWISS COTTAGE.]




    FIRST IMPRESSIONS
    ON
    A TOUR UPON THE CONTINENT
    IN THE SUMMER OF 1818,
    THROUGH PARTS OF
    FRANCE, ITALY, SWITZERLAND,
    THE BORDERS OF GERMANY,
    AND A PART OF
    _FRENCH FLANDERS_.

    BY MARIANNE BAILLIE.

    LONDON:
    JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE-STREET.
    1819.




    LONDON:
    PRINTED BY THOMAS DAVISON, WHITEFRIARS.




    TO
    ONE OF THE MOST VALUED FRIENDS OF HER EARLIEST YEARS,
    THE RIGHT HON. JOHN TREVOR,
    THE AUTHOR
    INSCRIBES THE
    FOLLOWING LITTLE WORK,
    WITH EVERY SENTIMENT OF AFFECTIONATE RESPECT
    AND ESTEEM.




DIRECTIONS TO THE BINDER.


    Swiss Cottage              to face the title.
    View of Turin                             164
    Passage of the Simplon                    212
    Colossal Figure                           218
    Hermitage of St. Frene                    312




PREFACE


In perusing the following pages, it will I hope be believed, that they
were not originally written with any view to publication: circumstances
have since occurred, which induce me to alter my first intention, and to
submit them to a more enlarged circle, than that of a few intimate
friends, to whose eye alone I had once thought of presenting them.

In committing my First Impressions to so fearful an ordeal as the
opinion of the Public, I feel oppressed by a sense of their various
imperfections, and by the conviction of their trifling value as a work
of the sort; yet I still flatter myself they will be received with
forbearance. I had much amusement in attempting this little sketch, and
I most sincerely entreat that it may be considered as what it is, a
sketch only. My friends will not, and readers in general must not, look
for fine writing from the pen of such a novice as myself; nor ought they
to expect me (labouring under the twofold disadvantage of sex and
inexperience) to narrate with the accuracy and precision of a regular
tourist, the history (natural, moral, political, literary and
commercial) of all the places we visited: still less, that (in
compliment to the lovers of the gastronomic art) I should undertake to
give the bill of fare of every _table d'hote_ or _traiteur_ that we met
with in our progress.

Among the many fears which assail me, there is one that recurs to my
mind with more pertinacity than the rest: that I may be taxed with
having bestowed too warm and glowing a colouring upon some objects of
natural beauty and sublimity. Formerly, indeed, I believe I was in
danger of leaning towards romance in describing scenes which had
particularly impressed my imagination or interested my feelings, and of
attempting to imitate, with too rash and unadvised a pencil, the fervour
of a Mrs. Radcliffe, although to catch the peculiar charm and spirit of
her style I felt to be (for me) impossible. But notwithstanding that I
still remember with complacence the time when the vivid imagination of
very early youth procured me the enjoyment of a thousand bright and
lovely illusions, and cast a sort of fairy splendour over existence
which was certainly more bewitching than many realities that I have
since met with, I at present feel (as better becomes me) more inclined
to worship at the sober shrine of reason and judgment. This, it will be
easily conceived, was likely to render my Tour a more faithful picture,
than if it had been undertaken some years ago, and I can safely affirm,
that I commenced it with a determination to observe all things without
prejudice of any sort, not even that of nationality; for prejudice is
still the same irrational and unworthy feeling, in every shape and under
every name. I was much hurried at the time of writing this Journal; but
a greater degree of subsequent leisure has enabled me to add some few
notes which may, I hope, amuse and interest my readers. In these I
acknowledge with gratitude the occasional assistance of a partial
friend.

_April, 1819._




FIRST IMPRESSIONS.


On Monday, August 9th, we embarked from the Ship inn at Dover, for
Calais, on board the Princess Augusta packet. The passage was dreadful,
the usual miseries attended us, and at the time I am now writing this,
viz. August 13th, we are still suffering from the effects of our voyage.
I will not make my readers ill by recalling the disgusting scenes which
we there encountered, suffice it to say, that the bare remembrance of
them is sufficient to overwhelm my still sick fancy, and to render the
very name of the sea appalling to my ears. Upon landing at Calais,
however, we contrived to raise our heavy eyes, with a lively feeling of
curiosity