Memoirs of John Adams Dix; comp. by his son, Morgan Dix.

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MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX.

river is sometimes impassable when swollen by the melting
of the snow on the mountains. Two days before we were
there no one could cross."
Sunday, May 20, was quietly spent at Spezzia, then the
naval station of the American Mediterranean squadron.
After that they passed through Borghetto and Sestri di Levante, crossing spurs of the Apennines, and enjoying magnificent views of the blue Mediterranean. On ascending the
CROSSING THE MAGRA.
long hills all who could walk did so, not merely to relieve the
horses, but also from preference. The only drawback was
the importunity of beggars. The General had an ingenious
method of relieving himself from these tormentors. My
mother's sobriquet was "the Principessa," a title first bestowed on her by the Roman beggars, who, seeing her walking about in a velvet cloak trimmed with fur, and a fur muff,
tippet, and armlets, took her for a Russian princess, and invoked her aid under that impression. On the way up the
long hills the General, finding himself surrounded by beggars
and unable to enjoy the view, addressed them in a deprecatory air: "I," said he, "am only a poor pilgrim, and have
nothing for you; but there comes a carriage up the hill containing a principessa, who is very charitable; go to her."
The effect was magical: the pilgrim was instantly deserted,
and the whole herd scampered off to meet the approaching
carriage.
From Sestri to Nice the journey was on the celebrated
Cornice Road.
"It is a lovely drive. You go winding in and out of the
bays and passing through the most enchanting scenery as one