Lucia - Andrea Di Robilant [116]
Lucia took to her bed as soon as she reached Milan. She had felt progressively worse during her journey from Paris and she did not improve when she reached home. A persistent nausea settled over her, and she developed stomach pains which did not go away despite frequent bouts of vomiting. A rheumatic fever complicated her general condition. In the autumn, she also suffered a prolapse of the uterus which made it very uncomfortable to move around.
The doctors in Milan were confounded by Lucia’s mysterious ailments. She was prescribed the usual remedies: waters, mud cures, a meatless diet, no exercise. There was little improvement. The palazzo assigned to Princess Augusta’s ladies-in-waiting was temporarily unavailable and she ended up having to rent a “horrid” small apartment in Corso di Porta Rienza, on the road to Villa Bonaparte, from a man ominously called Signor Scorpioni. Alvise was away in the countryside and was not there to help with the move. Contributing to her general discomfort was the guilt she felt for leaving Alvisetto behind: it never went away, just like the nausea. Each letter she received from him tore her heart to pieces, and she longed to make the trip back to Paris even if she felt so awful. The doctors, however, were adamant: she should not even contemplate the idea of such a trip in her condition.
It was a miserable time made sadder by the death of Signora Antonia, the woman who had raised Alvisetto in Venice during the first years of his life. “I shall never forget how much I owe her for the loving way in which she took care of you when you were a little child,” she wrote to her son. “In death one cannot pray for oneself, you know that; but remember that the soul of the dead can draw relief from the mortification of those who remain behind. You can show your own attachment to Signora Antonia by offering her your tears and your prayers.”43
Princess Augusta and Marchioness Litta came to Lucia’s rescue, reducing her duties at the royal palace to a minimum. The other ladies-in-waiting agreed to pick up the slack and substitute when it was her turn to be on duty. Princess Augusta regularly exempted her from the afternoon walk. In the evening, whether at Petit cercle or Grand cercle, Lucia usually sat in the back seats so she could make an early exit. “They all cooperate for my well-being,” Lucia assured an increasingly worried Paolina. When she was not at work she stayed at home. “I rarely take a coach, I don’t call on people, I don’t go shopping and never go out after lunch or dinner. Today I came home early, had lunch, rested. I went back to the palace in the evening for cercle but I was home by ten thirty. I ate a bowl of soup, undid my hair, undressed and am now in bed.”44
A whole year passed without any serious signs of improvement. After going through a long list of Milanese and Venetian physicians, Lucia decided to consult Cavalier Paletta, a medicine man who was frowned upon by mainstream doctors for his unorthodox remedies. Paletta argued the prolapse of the uterus was caused by the weakness of the muscles and ligaments sustaining it, and recommended Lucia “insert a dose of iron-rich ochre” into her vagina.45 She was to drink great quantities of the “acidulous” mineral water of Recoaro, near Vicenza, and apply to her loins the