1816: the Grandest Tour

Switzerland: Chapter 4

George tossed through the night, searching each side of the pillow for sleep that never quite arrived. When morning dawned he abandoned the fruitless battle, dressed, and went down to the lobby to check for the morning post. Since Paris this had become an increasingly meaningless act, done without hope or expectation. Imagine his sensations, then, when the clerk yawned and handed him a letter – in Susan's hand! George took the paper, eyes wide, and mumbled a barely audible 'merci!' before turning tail and bounding back up to his room.

Trembling, clumsy fingers fiddled with the wax seal, but at last the page was open unscathed. To a Romantic heart what precious memories can be found in the mere sight of a familiar, rounded script. George, so long denied a word from his beloved, felt all these impressions with more than usual fervor. Her style fell a little short, perhaps, of his own impassioned feelings, but this was no matter:

"Dearest Georgie,

We are on the move at last! I write you from a little town on the Rhine – I have forgotten its name – but it is most enjoyable to be seeing new places after the Netherlands. Germans are frightfully rude and boorish people, and very ugly, but so were the Dutch so that is no great change. I blush a little to say this, but we, Clemmy and I that is, did not leave Amsterdam on the best of footings. It was a strange incident, and most amusing to us, but the rest of the city did not quite think the same. The only harm, really, was Sofie and Paula Hendricksen took things a little too far – but in any case I shall tell you all of this when we finally meet."

George read this paragraph over again, slightly puzzled by the vague allusion to some 'incident.' But if Susan thought it was of no great consequence than all was surely well.

"The Rhine valley is very beautiful, full of castles and quaint towns, so we are sailing down at a leisurely pace. We expect to be in Munich in a little over a week, where I think we may stay for some time longer. Mademoiselle has an idea my German is very bad and needs improvement, and she may engage a master to remedy this. We shall see how well I get on, but I find its words rather harsh to my ear."

"I am very sorry I've been so late in replying to your beautiful letters. The Hendricksens had us so engaged, and then the unfortunate incident hastened our departure so, that I have only just had the leisure to properly sit down and write to you. I'm sure you must be in raptures at the Swiss mountains and picturesque lakes – I do hope you'll describe your impressions of them to me. Coming to Munich, as we shall, it will seem too cruel: to be so close to you, and yet unable to meet until Rome! But this is an idle thought. Have you ever thought of extending your tour into Germany? I shouldn't say such things, I know. Only I miss you, and Rome seems so horribly far away. I hope you'll write me as soon as you receive this – I promise I won't take so long to reply as I did before. Your loving Susan."

After this she included a postscript with an address in Munich.

George's heart, used to leaps and bounds of emotion, swelled with a cathartic sense of relief. She was still his – his own dear Susan. Immediately he began his reply, touching a little on the extraordinary events with Lord Byron and his friends, but in the main pouring his whole sincerity into a declaration of his own feelings – just the same as hers, he hoped, and as fervently wishing for their soonest meeting. Did she truly want to see him in Germany? He would come! Let her only say the word and he would cross oceans and wastes to be at her side. A little journey through the Alps would be as nothing. His friends might need to be convinced, of course, but by now he trusted his persuasive skills. With that he closed the letter, commending himself to her in as ardent terms as he could muster.

Would such a detour north be possible? Sealing his letter George reflected on the matter. The German border wasn't far, compared to the ground they had already covered through France. The main obstacles would be Hugh and Robert – and of course they couldn't know anything of his planned elopement. Tobias now knew, he was sure, but had so far proven discreet enough not to mention it. In Munich, though it was Catholic Bavaria, there ought to be a number of Protestant churches were he and Susan could marry. They could then complete his grand tour as man and wife – an utterly delightful prospect, in his mind. Waiting for her reply seemed the most sensible course of action. So George resolved to enjoy Switzerland to the full and address the matter in due time.