Countess Of Albany.
The Times, 1824-02-13T00:00:00

We yesterday mentioned. on the information of our Paris correspon(lent, the death of the widovw of the last Preten- der (Cardinal York excepted) of the Stuart family. The lady is bettir kniown und.r the name of the Countess of Albany, and the favourite of Alfieri, who has given a very striking and interesting account of her in his extraordinary memoirs. Not having his book at handl, we must content ourselves with copying the following description of this ce- lebrated woman from the " Italy" of Lady Morgan :- " But there is a house open in F'lorence, which has a character and interest peculiarly its own; through which all Europe passes on its way to various destinations; which is entered with intense cu- riosity, and left (to speak fron the conviction of my own feelings) with infinite regret-I mean the little palace on thie Lung-Arno, where, on Saturday evenings, a congress, tore strictly European than that of Laybach, assembles to offer its homlage to the only lcgi- timate Quec., who unites the suifrages of all parties in her tavour, the widow of that trie legitimate, James the Third of England, Louisa, Princess nf Stolberg, Countess of Albany. This lady has, however, another, and perhaps a deeper claim to interest than tbe.e titles give her, as being the I mia Donna' of Alfieri, his destiny and muse; the only woman whose ' aurea cafena' could bind that vs- grant heart in eternal fetters, which none betbre couldl fix-thc wolman without whose friendsh p, he observes, lie nevcr could have effected aught of great or good (I seenza la qz/ella nto,, a vrci snaifatto nubla di buoito'). Alfieri's description of his first interview with Mladame d'Albany (or, as he terms her, ' qtueba gontilissitna e bella silgnura') is feelin g and poetical. lie describes tne fair young Ger- nian Princess as a stranger in the rnidst eof strangers, distinguished above all, attracting all, and served bv all, till even his sentinmental cynicism and' morbid shyness yielded to the spell of her personal anst intellectual charn:s: und the destiny of one lrhitherto his ownn fate) became dependent on the will of another, and that other a young anti unhappy xwoman.' r went to my first interview with this illustrious lady, itnpresseed with the sense of all the respect due to my legitimate Queen, but still more with the recollection of that sweet picture drawn of her by Alfieri, in colours over whichi time holds no jurisdiction, I Un dolce fcor negli occhi nerissimni, accopia con candidIssilna pelle c biondi cap,eUi, do vano alla di eli bellzcza an 7isalto, di cui difc-ile era di oai r in,a,,cre colpito e con ,quLto.'t Tinme has spared sO miuch of the ru- diments of this fair portrait in the original, that it would be neither just nor civil to record the thefts which he niay have conmmitted; but enough remains to judge of the fidelity of the trawinig. If tihe , dolce, fco' of the dark eves has lost something of its lustre, the ' canddissima pc/el' still remains, anid the inteTlect which gave a charm to all brightened by time, rctains all tde force and freshlness of youth; w'liile a manncr at once energetic and simple, possosses a peculiar charii to those with whom she converses a de,ni vOil' in the midst of her rather formnl circle.i-a chiarm which is in finitely de- liglht ul in the uncerenionious morning receptions of her clcgant li- brarv. Between this distinguished lady, this feudal Princess, and legitimate Queen? and the anathematized author of Fi rance, it cannot be suplosed mnuch cotgcniality of opinion could exist: it is there- fore the mzore gracious to add, t13at the dissonance did not prevent the existence of some sympathy in sentiment and taste, and that the attention with which M3'adame'd'Albany honoured her from the first day of her arrival to the last of her residence in Florcnec, was pro- ductive of the very greittest atlvantage in every possible way. Asa- dame D'Albarny is the Quecen of Florence, and her notice or neglect can alWays infiuence the chIaraicter of the stranger's sojourn in that interesih,g capital, hovwever 6eef or percmanent it miay be." " T The Countess d'Albany was driven to seek the asylum of a convent, to escape from the brutality of her husband. Alfieri has imnmortalized the coarse licentiousness of this legitimate sot, who lived-in a perpetual state of inebriety; butt lest the evidence of a rival shourd be doubted, the testimony of some or his contempo- rarics at Rome and Florence may be taken. 13is brother, the Car- dlnal York, was .j4st a degree less contemptible; for he has left a wretched character behind him. lie is said to have been feeble, sordid, and bigoted. ::o, indeed, was the whole race of Stuarts from the time of James the First of England, the most degenc. rating and degenerated royal stock of Eurupe. i' t '. A mild fire played in her dark eyes, and, tinited with her pure complexion and fair hair, gave a relief to her beauty, by whlich it was diflcult not to have been struck anid conquered.' t" It was my good fortune frequently to occupy the place next to lladarne d'Albany (who habitually sits at the head of a very court-like circle,) and to enjoy her most pleasant conversation, whichj besides being replete with acute and humorous observation, solee- times turned on Alfieri. She spoke of him with an unaftected sins. plicity, the very opposite of the sentimen4al jargon ascribed to her by many Englishi traveUers, some of who:m, siie assured me, had never even seen her. The story of his death-bed horrors, and his Eudden conversion by a celebrated ecclesiastic, she told me, was utterly false: she confcssed that, when he was dying, some devo- tees got about him to induce him to submit to the ntes of the Ca. tholic Church, and Padre Canovai, a monk of the order of the Scuole-pie, entered his room without ceremony when he was ex- piring, and stood at the foot of his bed in all the appalling pomp be- longing to the ceremnonies of death. At that moment Alfieri raised his glazed eyes-bowed his head-and died. Out of this simpple in. cident, the story of his I vision,' aud many other fables, arose. Talking one night with Mladanme d'Albany on the genius tbr novel- writing, once so prevalent in Italy, now so lost, she assured *ne that Al160ri often said to her-' I mean to revive the tastefornovels in Italy; but I resetve the pleasure of writing them for my old age.' Alieri, at any age, would never have written a good novel; bitt he would have composed charming romances! Madame d'-Al bany;still Teads a great deal: and that passion for the fine arts as- cribed'to het by Alieri, still exists, to judge by the excellent pie- tures of hebilibrary. She has one talent whici is wvorth twernty others. Sbe"knows hobw to lazrgyl, andi at wvhom, right well "' COUNTESS OF ALBAINY.