ABOUT a quarter of a century ago the Court of Turin had the reputation of being the most formal and punctilious of any in Europe. It was dull to the diplomatic officials, who were doomed like planets to circulate around it, though not without interest to the inquiring traveller, whose orbit, like that of a comet, passed through its atmosphere only at distant intervals.

In 1840 I received a gratifying invitation to meet the Élite of the science of Italy at Turin. On my arrival I immediately took measures to pay my respects in the usual manner to the sovereign of the country. Having inquired of a nobleman44 high in the confidence of the King, when there {299} would occur a levee, in order that I might have the honour of being presented, I was informed that his Majesty was aware of my arrival, and would receive me at a private audience. Two days after I had a formal visit from Count Alessandro Saluzzo to inform me that the King would receive me the next day at two o’clock.

I then made inquiries as to the usual dress, and found that a court dress was not considered essential on such occasions, especially for a foreigner, and that I might with perfect propriety go in plain clothes. I was glad to avail myself of this permission; but in order to prevent any misapprehension, I drove up to the palace about a quarter of an hour before the appointed time, and called upon General Cesare de Salluce,45 the governor of the two young princes, the present King of Italy and the late Duke of Genoa, then respectively about eighteen and seventeen years of age.

The General kindly offered to accompany me to the antechamber. In the course of our conversation I took an opportunity of mentioning that, having been informed I might appear in plain clothes, I had thought it most respectful to his sovereign to wear the same dress I had worn a few days before I left England, when I had the honour of being invited to the first party46 given by a subject to my own sovereign.

I had already been informed that the King, Charles Albert, took a great interest in the success of the meeting; that he was a very good man, but remarkably shy; and that he probably would not detain me more than perhaps five minutes.

I had myself experienced the misery of that affliction, and {300} felt how much more painful it must inevitably become when it fell to the lot of a person placed in the most exalted rank.

On entering the ante-room I found a number of the most distinguished people of the country waiting for audience, the king at that time being occupied, as I was informed, with one of his ministers. On his exit the master of the ceremonies announced that his Majesty would receive me.

I then entered the royal reception-room, and was presented to the King. He was a remarkably tall person, dressed in military costume, having a very peculiar expression of countenance, which I was at a loss how immediately to interpret. The King invited me to sit down, and I followed his Majesty to a large bay-window, where we immediately sat down on two stools opposite to each other.

The King expressed his sat­is­fac­tion that I had come from so considerable a distance to assist at the councils of the men of science then assembling in his own capital. Of course I replied by remarking that the advancement of the sciences contributed to the material as well as to the in­tel­lec­tual progress of every nation, and that when a sovereign, intimately convinced of this truth, took measures for the extension and diffusion of knowledge, it was the duty of all those engaged in its cultivation respectfully to assist as far as their individual circumstances permitted.

After a short pause, the King put some question which I do not remember, except that it was one of the conventional topics of society: perhaps it might have related to my journey. I now felt that unless I could raise some question of curiosity in his Majesty’s mind, to overcome his natural reserve, the interview would soon terminate precisely in the manner predicted. I therefore, in replying to this question, {301} contrived to introduce a remarkable fact relative to the electric telegraph. I soon perceived that it had taken hold of the King’s imagination, and the next question confirmed my view. “For what purposes,” said the King, “will the electric telegraph become useful?”

I must here request the reader to go back in his memory to the state of our knowledge in 1840, when electricity and other subjects, now of every-day application, were just commencing their then eccentric but now regulated course.

The King put the very question I had wished. Carefully observing his countenance, I felt that I was advancing in a tract in which he was interested. At each pause the proper question was suggested, and at last I pointed out the probability that, by means of the electric telegraphs, his Majesty’s fleet might receive warning of coming storms. This led to the new theory of storms, about which the king was very curious. By degrees I endeavoured to make it clear. I cited, as an illustration, a storm which had occurred but a short time before I left England. The damage done by it at Liverpool was very great, and at Glasgow immense. On one large property in the west coast of Scotland thirty thousand timber-trees had been thrown down.

I then explained that by subsequent inquiries it had been found that this storm arose from the overlapping of two circular whirlwinds, one of them coming up from the Atlantic bodily at the rate of twenty miles an hour, the other passing at the rate of twelve miles an hour, in a north-westerly direction, to Glasgow, where they coalesced, and destroyed property to the value of above half a million sterling. I added that if there had been electric communication between Genoa and a few other places the people of Glasgow might have had information of one of those storms twenty-four hours previously to its {302} arrival, and could then have taken effective measures for the security of much of their shipping.

During this conversation I had felt rather uneasy at occupying the king’s time so long when several of his own ministers were waiting in his ante-room for an audience, perhaps upon important business. Urged by this truly conscientious motive, I committed a gaucherie of the deepest water—I half rose from my stool to take leave of his Majesty. The King, as well he might, lifted up both his hands and then expressed the greatest interest in the continuance of the subject.

After a conversation of about five-and-twenty minutes the King rose, and, walking with me to the door, I made my bow. The King then held out his hand.

Here might have arisen a puzzling question, what I ought to have done; but previously to the interview I had taken the precaution of inquiring of one of my Sardinian friends what were the usual forms, and whether it was customary to kiss hands on being presented to the sovereign. The answer was in the negative. The ceremony of kissing hands, he informed me, never took place except when a native subject was appointed to some very high office.

I therefore immediately perceived that the King had done me the honour of adopting the salutation of my own country. Under these circumstances I shook hands as an Englishman does, and then, bowing profoundly, retired.

In the course of the evening of that day, being at the opera, I visited the box of one of my Italian acquaintances. A great friend of mine, also an Italian, who had been dining at the palace, came in soon after. He said to me, “What an extraordinary person you are! You have perfectly fascinated our King, who has done nothing but talk of you and the things you have told him during the whole of dinner-time.” {303}

I admit I felt great sat­is­fac­tion at this announcement of the complete success of my daring experiment. It assured me that my unusual deviation from the routine of a Court was fully justified by the interest the matter communicated had awakened in the King’s mind.

I had brought with me to Turin several models and various instruments connected with science and mechanical art, which of course had been examined by many of my scientific and personal friends. Unfortunately, on two occasions, when General de Salluce, who was much my senior in years, called upon me, I happened to be absent from the house. Knowing how fully his time was occupied by his illustrious pupils, I much regretted that I had not been at home when he called, and during one of my visits at the palace I offered to bring with me, on another occasion, some of the things I thought might be most interesting.

The General could not think of giving me that trouble, and at first very courteously declined the proposal. But after a moment or two he said, “On second thoughts, I will accept your kind offer, because I think it may be useful to my young pupils.”

On the morning proposed I drove up to the palace with some boxes containing the various apparatus, and was immediately shown into a large room nearly at the top of the palace. After opening the boxes and giving the General a glance at the various articles, I remarked that several of them were interesting to ladies, and that possibly the Queen, if made acquainted with it, might like to accompany her sons; in which case it would, perhaps, be more convenient for her Majesty if they were placed in a lower room of the palace.

The idea appeared a happy one; the General was much {304} pleased at it, and said he would go immediately and take her Majesty’s pleasure on the subject. After considerable delay General de Salluce returned, evidently much disappointed, and said he was commanded by the Queen to thank me for the attention, and to express her Majesty’s regret that she was prevented by an engagement from accompanying the young Princes.

When everything was arranged, and the hour appointed had arrived, the young Princes, accompanied by, I presume, various members of the royal household, and their Governor, arrived. Altogether there might have been about a dozen or fourteen persons of both sexes present.

I pointed out the use and structure of most of the instruments. Some objects belonged to mechanical art, such as patent locks and tools; a few were related to the Fine Arts.

The whole party seemed much pleased; the young Princes par­tic­u­lar­ly took a great interest in them, whereat the General was highly gratified. Before his young pupils retired, I took the General aside and inquired whether it was consistent with their customs that I should present to each of his two pupils one of the various (but in a pecuniary sense trifling) articles which they had examined. I was glad to find that I might be permitted to leave behind me two little souvenirs of a most agreeable day.

The whole party, with the exception of General de Salluce, had now retired. We walked up and down the room together for some time, conversing upon the success of the meeting. My excellent friend was justly delighted with the intelligent inquiries made by his pupils.

I thought I now perceived a favourable opportunity of ascertaining the cause of the Queen’s absence.

After some kind expression towards me, I suddenly stopped, {305} and, looking inquiringly into his countenance, said, “Now, General, just before this very agreeable party met you went to invite the Queen, and you returned and then told me the official. Now pray do tell me the real.”

The surprise of the General was certainly great, but, with a most agreeable smile, he immediately consented.

It appears that its history was thus. The General went to the Queen’s apartments and asked, through her lord-in-waiting, to be permitted to see her Majesty. This request was immediately granted. The General then informed the Queen that amongst the things her sons were going to see were several which might, perhaps, interest her Majesty. The Queen said she would accompany her sons, and then directed her own lord-in-waiting to go and ask the King’s permission.

Accordingly the Queen’s lord-in-waiting went to the King’s apartments, and found that he was sitting in Council. He proceeded to the ante-room of the Council-chamber, and there found the King’s lord-in-waiting, to whom he communicated his mission.

The King’s lord-in-waiting then informed the Queen’s lord-in-waiting that important news47 had just arrived, and that a special council had been called; that of course he was ready to convey the Queen’s message immediately, but he suggested whether, under these circumstances, the Queen would wish it.

The Queen’s lord-in-waiting now returned to her Majesty for further in­struc­tions.

Of course the Queen, like a good wife, at once gave up the intention of accompanying her sons in their interview with the phi­los­o­pher. I felt much regret at this disappointment. The Queen of Sardinia was the sister of the Grand Duke of Tuscany (Leopold II.), from whom I had, many years before, {306} when under severe affliction from the loss of a large portion of my family, received the most kind and gratifying attention.

On my road to Turin I had passed a few days at Lyons, in order to examine the silk man­u­fac­ture. I was specially anxious to see the loom in which that admirable specimen of fine art, the portrait of Jacquard, was woven. I passed many hours in watching its progress.

I possessed one copy, which had been kindly given to me by a friend; but as I had proposed to visit Florence after the meeting at Turin, I wished to procure another copy to present to the Grand Duke of Tuscany.

These beautiful productions were not made for sale; but, as a favour, I was allowed to purchase one of them.

Whilst the General was giving me this illustration of Court etiquette, it occurred to me that the silken engraving would be an appropriate offering to a lady.

I therefore again asked my friend whether, consistently with the usages of the country, I might be permitted to offer the engraving to the Queen.

The sudden change of his countenance from gay to grave was very remarkable. I feared I had proposed something of the most unusual kind. The General then slowly replied, “I will take the King’s pleasure on the subject.”

Two days after the General informed me that the King would give me an audience the next day, in order that I might ask permission to present the woven engraving to the Queen.

Accordingly, at the appointed hour, I went to the palace with the large cartoon-case containing the portrait of Jacquard.48 On being admitted into the presence of the King, I placed the case upon a sofa, and, opening it carefully, {307} unfolded the woven portrait from a crowd of sheets of silver paper of the most ethereal lightness. I then placed it in his Majesty’s hands. The King examined it minutely on both sides, inquired about its structure, and appeared much pleased at the sight.