Long before Tripadvisor ranked trattorias and TikTokers went viral rating Venetian gelato, 19th-century travellers such as the 7th Duke of Devonshire (1808 - 1891) had to navigate the world without the comfort of crowd-sourced reviews. No star ratings, no influencer discounts, and certainly no WiFi, just candid diary entries, a sturdy pair of walking shoes, a reliable carriage, and a healthy sense of adventure.

In the late 18th and early 19th centuries, resourceful travellers turned to a different kind of collective wisdom: the burgeoning genre of travelogues and practical guides.

While many accounts, such as Mary and Percy Shelley’s History of a Six Weeks’ Tour (1814) or Dickens's Pictures from Italy (1846), offered stirring stories and vivid impressions, they rarely told you where to find a decent pillow in Venice. For that, travellers looked to the likes of Mariana Starke.

Mariana Starke: An Early Guidebook Guru

Mariana Starke (1762-1838) was a trailblazer in practical travel writing. She had little patience for poetic ramblings and instead focused on what travellers really needed: practical advice, ratings, and tips for surviving the road.

Some of her most notable works, such as Letters from Italy (1800), Travels on the Continent (1820), and Travels in Europe (1828), championed comfort, welfare, and actual recommendations, with a rating system that used exclamation marks. 

The 7th Duke of Devonshire’s Diaries: A Proto-Tripadvisor

It’s in the spirit of Starke’s practicality that we approach the diaries of the man who would later become the 7th Duke of Devonshire.

When chronicling his Italian exploits in the spring of 1839, he had not yet inherited the dukedom and was the Earl of Burlington (or simply, Lord Burlington).

Accompanied by his wife, Blanche (pictured below), and their children, Lord Burlington left behind a candid, systemic record of where he slept, what he saw, what he liked, and, importantly, what he wouldn’t do again.

Though never meant for publication, these diary entries are packed with concise verdicts and wry observations. In many ways, they’re the 19th-century equivalent of a no-nonsense travel blog.

His diaries offer accounts of his travels from Subiaco to Rome, Naples, Florence, Verona, Venice, and countless towns in between, all in just two months. Each stop brings a new hotel, a new view, and often a new set of complaints.

Below, we'll share some of Lord Burlington’s opinions in a classic travel guide style, so you too can journey through Italy - Victorian style!

Lord Burlington's Where to Stay and Where to Avoid List

When it comes to accommodation, Lord Burlington experienced the entire Italian spectrum, from the truly regrettable to the surprisingly delightful.

In Subiaco, optimism quickly gave way to reality. The journey into the town was already an ordeal, as the streets were “impassable by carriages,” forcing Lord Burlington and his family to march up to the inn on foot.

The much-touted 'Locanda del Santo' proved a let down: “It is extremely bad, & unless we had brought some provisions from Tivoli, we should have been but ill off”. Sometimes the “best in town” really does mean “barely tolerable” – a lesson as true now as it was in 1839.

Terracina offered a little more than proximity to the sea. Lord Burlington dryly noted, “We are at a tolerable hotel, close to the Sea which is very rough”. Not exactly a glowing endorsement.

Nola, however, turned out to be a pleasant surprise. The hotel’s garden was scattered with ancient ruins, rumoured to be those of Cicero’s Villa, and filled with “groves of very fine oranges & lemons running down to the beach”. Even Lord Burlington could not resist the charm of breakfast among the citrus and stones.

Arriving in Naples, Lord Burlington chose location over thrift and checked into a pricey hotel, called 'Vittoria'. He was momentarily dismayed by the expense, but after a bit of negotiation, satisfaction prevailed: “We have got the price of our rooms reduced, & are very well satisfied with them. I think this hotel decidedly the best situated, close to the sea, with a fine view, including Capri”. Some things, such as sea views and bargaining for the best rate, never change.

La Cava raised the bar, with Lord Burlington positively effusive about the accommodation: “We are at a new Inn extremely clean & comfortable – indeed the best I have seen in Italy”. Apparently, even a seasoned traveller can be pleasantly surprised.

Sorrento, though, proved that the best-laid plans can go slightly astray. Lord Burlington had instructed his guide to take the family to the supposedly superior 'Tre Serina', but instead they landed at another Vittoria outside of town. He took it in stride: “It is not however bad & is in a beautiful situation with a glorious view of the Bay of Naples from Ischia to Vesuvius”. If you are forced off-plan, at least hope for a view.

Amalfi saw the family climbing a seemingly endless flight of steps to reach their hotel, a former Capuchin convent. The rooms were “small but… clean & pretty comfortable,” yet Lord Burlington was unequivocal: “the hotel is worth coming to for the magnificent views”.

Florence presented another classic traveller’s dilemma: space versus comfort. Lord Burlington settled into the Hotel de L’Arno, which possessed “very large rooms but not very comfortable”. Still, he preferred this to his previous hotel in Florence, 'The Schneiderff', for the simple reason that it caught the sun.

And finally, Venice proved a rare moment of tranquillity: Lord Burlington’s hotel overlooked the Grand Canal and, most notably, offered a peace only possible in a city without carriages. “The quiet produced by the total absence of carriages is very striking”. Sometimes, the absence of noise is the best amenity of all.

Experiences and Activities – Adventures and Curiosity in Victorian Style

For a Victorian aristocrat, travel was not just about where you slept, it was about what you saw, who you met, and how many mysterious staircases or volcanic craters you could explore before dinner.

A night at 'Bracciano' Castle was as atmospheric as one could hope for, perhaps Gothic enough to make novelist Anne Radcliffe quite jealous! Lord Burlington described it as “a fine old baronial castle, very large & well situated near the Lake of Bracciano”. Yet, inside, he found less to marvel at: “in the interior there is but little to see; it is not well kept up”. The rooms themselves were “not uncomfortable but rather cold,” reminding us that even stately grandeur can be drafty.

En route to the castle, Lord Burlington stopped at the deserted village of Gallena place he found both eerie and fascinating: “It is curious & melancholy to see a place which has been inhabited but recently, now entirely abandoned. There seems to be some mystery about it, but I believe the principal reason was malaria”. Often the best stories from our adventures are the ones left unsolved.

Of course, no proper castle tour would be complete without a touch of danger. Lord Burlington dutifully inspected the dreaded oubliette: “We saw the oubliette, or the pit into which persons condemned to death were made fall. The mouth of it is now filled up…” The past, it seems, was full of surprises, some best left to history.

In Pozzuoli, Lord Burlington embraced his inner volcanologist, visiting the famous Solfatara: “the crater of an extinct Volcano, the soil is full both of sulphur & alum & in several places hot smoke issues”. The locals, he learned, kept a wary eye on the smoke; if it stopped, that meant Vesuvius was about to awaken.

He also admired Roman ingenuity at a subterranean reservoir and the grand Temple Jupiter Serapis, now partially flooded: “the floor of the temple is covered by the Sea to the depth of 9 or 10 inches”. Hopefully he had packed waterproof boots.

The Doge’s Palace in Venice was a highlight for Lord Burlington, both for its architecture and its art. He described entering through a “fine archway” and ascending the “magnificent Giants’ stairs,” before wandering through halls adorned with masterpieces: “pictures relating to the history of Frederick Barbarossa by different Venetian painters, Tintoretto, Palma vecchio & Giovane a beautiful picture of Europa by Paul Veronese… The sala Del Collegio has a most splendid cieling [sic] all painted by Paul Veronese”. In Venice, the Duke reminds us, it pays to look up.

Getting Around – Carriage, Boats, and the Iron Road

Travel in 19th-century Italy was often an adventure in itself – sometimes scenic, sometimes sodden, but always memorable.

From Tivoli to Subiaco, Lord Burlington set out before 9 a.m. and spent nearly six hours traversing “27 Roman miles”. The road along the valley of the Anio, he wrote, “is very good,” and he was taken with the scenery, which “improves much as we get higher up the valley”. Ancient ruins, like those of the Claudian aqueduct, dotted the landscape, proving that the journey is often as remarkable as the destination.

The trek from Rome to Terracina was less pleasant. Lord Burlington recalled a “most disagreeable day for travelling, a very high wind with clouds of dust, the first part of the way, & then heavy rain”. To add insult to injury, the route included unnecessary detours: “the road… goes round unnecessarily several miles for the sake of Velletri”. Some things never change – blame the detour on the map, not the map reader.

On the water, Lord Burlington’s adventures continued. His crossing from Naples to Capri was complicated by the landlord’s attempts to overcharge for a boat; after some negotiations, a fair price was struck. Still, he had to admit: “We had a delightful row to Capri”.

Steam travel was just beginning to make waves in Italy. Taking the Leopoldo II steam packet from Naples to Civitavecchia, Lord Burlington and his family experienced both modern speed and classic delay: “There was wind enough to make the packet pitch slightly… The wind was right against us & rather cold. It delayed us about an hour”. The journey included passing Procida and Ischia, though, “scarcely near enough to see their beautiful shores”.

The Lord Burlington’s trip coincided with the arrival of the railway in Italy. En route to Padua, he observed “great numbers of workmen employed on a railway which is to run from Milan to Venice…” The iron road was on the horizon, promising that future travellers might skip the dust storms and detours altogether.

In conclusion, the 7th Duke of Devonshire's diaries are honest, wry, and refreshingly blunt. These impressions, though never intended for the public eye, offer a sincerity you can trust.

Whether admiring marble floors or lamenting a lack of cleanliness, he reminds us that the best travel stories come from mishaps, surprises, and open-mindedness.

So, as you plan your own Italian adventure, digital guide in hand, learn from the experiences of Lord Burlington almost 200 years ago; pack plenty of provisions, don't be afraid to negotiate your room rate, double-check your bookings, and never underestimate the restorative power of a good view.

Happy travels! And may your accommodation always be better than Subiaco’s 'Locanda del Santo'!

With thanks to Chatsworth's Enya Horgan for delving into the 7th Duke's diaries to write this blog.