Chapter VII: Part 7

The other adventure was during the late Neapolitan and Sicilian revolution; Mr. C⸺ happened to lodge in the same house with our countryman, General Church, who commanded the Sicilian troops, forming the garrison of Palermo. One evening the general had fallen into a personal affray with some of his insubordinate soldiers, and with difficulty disengaged himself from them uninjured; supposing that he had retired to his hotel, they made an attack upon it, and in their rage and disappointment destroyed the whole of its furniture. My friend, and two other English gentlemen, were at the time in the house. The former was lying in bed, seriously ill; they obliged him, however, to rise, and while one of the ruffians stood with a dagger at his breast, the others emptied his trunks, and took away everything except his pantaloons and a great coat, and threatened to murder him if he did not produce more money, stating that they were sure an Englishman must be better provided. One of the other gentlemen was also ill, but being warned by the noise, that something unpropitious was going forward, he contrived to conceal his writing-desk, with his money and papers, under the pillow; when, getting into bed, he made them believe by well groaning, and the assistance of a naturally pale and ghastly-looking face, that he was dying; they were actually afraid to touch him, and walked off, contenting themselves with what they could find about the room.

The third gentleman was treated with tolerable civility; one of the robbers disrobed himself, and putting on the clothes which were lying on a chair, made a simple exchange of property, which some consider no robbery. They cleared the table of his money, and various other articles which he had laid upon it the night before; amongst the rest, however, was a small bit of printed paper, which considering of no value, they threw on the floor; this was one of Hammersley’s bills for fifty pounds.

My friend had the misfortune of being deaf, as well as suffering otherwise from ill health; it may be regarded as a curious incident in our travelling connexion,—that I should want sight, and he hearing; the circumstance is somewhat droll, and afforded considerable amusement to those whom we travelled with, so that we were not unfrequently exposed to a jest on the subject, which we generally participated in, and sometimes contributed to improve.

We agreed with a vittureno to leave Naples on Monday, June 11, and took leave of our friends, and made our other arrangements accordingly; but on returning home on the Sunday evening, I found the vittureno had been to state the danger of setting off alone, on account of the number of robbers on the road; and that they should wait to accompany another voiture, which was to set off on the Tuesday; we accordingly reconciled ourselves to the delay, notwithstanding some of our friends, acquainted with the ways of these fellows, expressed their opinion that we should be teased in this manner for at least two or three days, notwithstanding we had a written agreement for our departure, signed by the proprietor; we now, however, to make more certain for the following day, had another drawn up, with a legal stamp to it, and in which it was stipulated, that if he failed to set off on the next morning, he should forfeit half his fare.

On Tuesday morning we were in readiness at four o’clock, expecting the coach every moment; at five, however, the vittureno came to state that one of his passengers was taken very ill, and could not proceed, and that he must defer going until the next day, when he hoped the gentleman would be able to set off. This was provoking, and we could not help doubting the truth of the story, but on sending our servant to the gentleman’s lodgings, he returned with a confirmation, and we thought best to acquiesce. We made him sign, however, a yet stronger obligation, by which we were empowered, if he did not set off on the Wednesday, to take post-horses at his expense. We kept very close to-day, not wishing to be laughed at by our friends; in the evening, however, we walked down to the mole, amongst the shipping, where we saw an embarkation of horses for the Austrian army in Sicily; and a Neapolitan seventy-four-gun-ship, the Capri, secured to the wharf, and near to the remains of another seventy-four-gun-ship, the St. Ferdinand, which, a short time before had taken fire, and been burned down to the water’s edge.

We felt a strong inclination to avail ourselves of this last evening to visit the magnificent theatre of San Carlos, which had only very lately been opened; but the advantage of retiring early to bed, in order to prepare for our journey on the morrow, induced us to forego the gratification. I had, however, lately been to the Il Fondo, which some prefer to the larger theatre, as its size is better adapted to give effect to the performances. As, however, I could not understand the language, the music alone interested me; but this was indeed exquisite, and fully sufficient to afford the most heart-touching gratification. It was of that kind which

“Thrills through imagination’s tender frame
From nerve to nerve: all naked and alive
They catch the spreading rays: till now the soul
At length discloses every tuneful spring,
To that harmonious movement from without
Responsive. Then the inexpressive strain
Diffuses its enchantment: Fancy dreams
Of sacred fountains and Elysian groves,
And vales of bliss: the intellectual power
Bends from his awful throne a wondering ear,
And smiles: the passions, gently sooth’d away,
Sink to divine repose, and love and joy
Alone are waking; love and joy serene
As airs that fan the summer.”—AKENSIDE.

CHAP. XXII.

JOURNEY FROM NAPLES TO ROME AND FLORENCE.

At length, on Wednesday the 13th of June, we commenced our journey from Naples, although not without much insolence and altercation on the part of the vittureno, with respect to our fare; we finally settled this, by agreeing to pay six dollars each for our conveyance, dinners and beds included; which, as we were to occupy four days on the journey, was not unreasonable.

We had, however, to provide our own breakfasts, for which purpose we took with us the requisite materials for one in the English fashion and in particular a supply of butter, an article which is rarely to be met with in travelling through this country; even the bread is not always eatable, as the corn of which it is made, is thrashed out by horses or oxen trampling upon it, and then gathered up with not a little of the accompanying dirt, and which they are not always careful to purify it from, before sending it to the mill.

The innkeepers on the road, however, looked shy at our travelling provisions; but contrived, whenever they supplied us with eggs or milk, to make us pay exorbitantly for them.

We set off in company with the voiture for which we had delayed our journey on the Monday, but did not get clear of Naples before seven o’clock; after which we breakfasted at Capua, and reached St. Agatha in the evening; at the latter place we witnessed a violent quarrel between two Austrian officers, which however was carried through with the same weapons that it commenced with—their tongues.

Before setting off in the morning, we were informed that the courier from Rome to Naples, had been obliged to return to Mola on the previous night, to procure a stronger escort, in consequence of intelligence from a peasant, that he was way-laid by a band of thirteen robbers, near the spot where Mrs. A⸺’s carriage had been attempted at the time of my journey to Naples. On our way, we observed a number of sledges loaded with hay, and which were similar to those used for travelling over the snow in North America. We breakfasted at Mola, and arrived at Terracina about eight in the evening, after a considerable detention at Fondi, by custom-house officers, and which was repeated on entering the papal territories; throughout the Neapolitan states, we passed numerous parties of Austrian soldiers posted on the road.

At Terracina our passports were again examined, but we avoided the inspection of baggage by getting the trunks leaded with the custom-house stamps; and afterwards, unexpectedly escaped inspection at Rome, in consequence of one of our party having had the precaution to write for a lascia passare. This gentleman was the person whose illness had detained us a day longer in Naples; and which, after we came to know him, we had no cause to regret, as he proved a most agreeable gentlemanly companion. Major le Chevalier de S⸺, was gentleman of the chamber, and aid-de-camp to the king of Denmark; and we had afterwards the gratification of a considerable intercourse with him. It is singular that many years before, I should have had the pleasure of waiting upon his father, who was governor of St. Thomas’s at the time I visited that island in a British frigate.

On Friday the 15th, the morning being fine, we walked several miles by the side of the voiture, until our driver found it necessary to push on faster. After this we arrived for breakfast, in the middle of the Pontine marshes, where we were put into an apartment only fit for the accommodation of cattle, and congratulated ourselves in being provided with our own breakfast. The afternoon proved cold and wet. At seven o’clock we reached Veletri, where from our bed-room windows might be seen extensive views over the Pontine marshes, reaching as far as Terracina.

On Saturday, we arrived at Albano for breakfast, when my friend C⸺ walked to the lake, to view the famous tunnel constructed by the ancient Romans, to convey water by a magnificent aqueduct to Rome. At three o’clock in the afternoon we arrived at the latter city; at the gates whereof Major S⸺ found his lascia passare which enabled us to proceed without delay to C⸺’s old lodgings, where we not only met with accommodations for ourselves, but also for Major S⸺, who was induced to attach himself to our party: after securing this point, we dined together at the Armellino.

We spent only three days in the, now comparatively deserted, city of Rome; during which time we occupied ourselves, chiefly, in preparations for our journey to Florence, and purchasing little articles of mosaic, &c. for our friends. The only time devoted to _vertu_, was on the Monday, when we accompanied Major S⸺ to Count Therwaston’s collection of statues. In one room, in order to ascertain whether I knew the difference, my friends placed my hand on the leg of a living man, put into a posture for having a mould taken from him, and this without apprising me that it consisted of animate, instead of inanimate nature. In this collection, amongst others, were busts of Lord Byron, and the crown prince and princess of Denmark.

On Tuesday the 19th, we took our departure from Rome for Florence, by way of Perrugia, at six o’clock in the morning. When we had proceeded about sixteen miles, before descending a hill for Baccano, my friends had a last view of this once famous, and yet interesting city. Besides Mr. C⸺, and Major S⸺, and myself, our voiture contained a Prussian medical officer, a very intelligent agreeable gentleman, and a member of the regency, who had travelled in our consort voiture from Naples, and with whom we had in consequence, a previous acquaintance, so that we were as comfortable as if we had occupied our own carriage, although we had to pay only ten dollars each for a seven days’ journey, supper and beds included.

We breakfasted at Baccano, contrary to the wish of our driver, which we afterwards regretted that we did not comply with, as, according to his representation, we found a most insolent unaccommodating landlord. After this, we passed over Monte Rosi, through the deserted looking town of Nepi, and arrived at Civita Castellana between seven and eight in the evening. In the course of this afternoon, we passed a beautiful female on horseback, riding after the fashion of men.

After sleeping at Civita Castellana, where our supper and bed were both intolerably bad, we recommenced our journey at day-break, and passed through Borghetto, when we crossed the Tiber at _Ponte Felice_, a stately bridge, built by the popes Sextus V. and Clement VIII. upon the ruins of the old and magnificent one of Augustus.

From hence we proceeded to Otricoli and Narsi. At noon, we reached the once celebrated city of Terni, anciently Interamnia, which, however, has now only to boast of its former greatness, and of having given birth to Tacitus the historian, and the emperors Tacitus and Florian. After a hasty breakfast, we engaged a small open carriage, and went to _view_ the falls of the Velino, distant about five miles. This river, formed by various streams and mountain torrents, from the Appennines, flows quietly for some miles, along a nearly level plain, which at length terminates in one precipitous fall of three hundred feet in depth, exclusive of minor ones, one of which is two hundred, and another eighty feet perpendicular; over these, the stream rushes with tremendous force, dashing upon the rocky bed below with such violence, that a vast cloud of watery smoke is raised around it, and which, to the eye of the spectator placed above, appears to throw the bottom into profundity. From this point, the river runs foaming over a rocky bed, successively tumbling over the minor precipices, until shortly afterwards, it finishes its course in the Nera.

This grand and romantic spectacle will be best witnessed from below, to which a guide should be taken to conduct you, by a narrow steep footway, the carriage returning and awaiting your arrival at the termination of the falls; there will be however, a considerable distance to walk.

We did not return to Terni before five o’clock, when, at the instance of our driver, although contrary to my own inclinations, my companions were induced to drive on to Spoletto, to accomplish which journey, we had an additional horse for the first post, and afterwards a pair of oxen attached to our voiture, to enable us to ascend to Mount Somma, said to be two thousand feet in height; it was, however, too dark to see, from this elevated spot, the delightful scenery around it, and over the beautiful plains of Terni, which we had just quitted, and Clitumnus, on which we were entering.

At ten o’clock, we arrived at Spoletto, which appeared to be a fine ancient town, with a beautiful cathedral, fountains, and other public buildings. The inhabitants are not a little proud of their city having held out against Hannibal, when he besieged it, after his signal defeat of the Romans at Thrasymene.

At Spoletto we had a comfortable bed and supper, in comparison to what we enjoyed the preceding night, when we were unfortunate enough to be anticipated by a large party of English ladies, attended by one gentleman; and I suppose we should have been placed in the same situation, throughout our journey, had not the latter been taken so seriously ill at Terni, as to be unable to proceed.

On Thursday, we set out with day-light; breakfasted at Foligno, and reached Perrugia at nine in the evening, between which places, the road turns off on the right for Lorretto, Ancona, and Venice. On our arrival, it was so cold, that, notwithstanding, we were in the centre of Italy at Midsummer, it was necessary to order a fire; indeed the sensation was so urgent, that, I believe, had we been compelled to give up this or our supper, the latter would have been abandoned. Perrugia is situated on very elevated ground, so that we were obliged to call in the assistance of a couple of oxen, for the last hour, to drag us up to it, and had experienced cold heavy rain throughout the greater part of the day. In the course of the afternoon, we were rather surprised at having once more to cross the Tiber.

The following morning was exceedingly cold as we left Perrugia, but as the day advanced, and we descended into a more champaign country, the day became finer, as well as comfortably warm. We now, after passing through the village of Torricelli, arrived at the borders of the renowned lake of Thrasymene, where we travelled by its side, along a tolerably level road, through Passignano, from whence we passed over a small plain to Borghetto, the lake being constantly on our left, and the Appennine mountains surrounding this plain on our right.

“It was in the centre of this plain, that Hannibal encamped at the head of the African and Spanish troops; the Baleares, and the light-armed forces, he placed on the recesses of the mountains all around, while his cavalry were commissioned to occupy a defile in rear of the Romans, as soon as they had passed through it. The consul entered by Borghetto, with his characteristic rashness and impetuosity, and hastened to attack the army which he beheld in front; when a sudden shout bursting all around, informed him that he was beset on all sides; a thick mist rising from the lake, darkened the air; noise, confusion, dismay, defeat, and slaughter, immediately followed.”

We breakfasted at Casa del Piano, and after the various ceremonies of entering the Tuscan territories, reached Castiglione Fiorentino at half after seven in the evening. This is a beautiful village, and we could not avoid contrasting, as I believe all other travellers do, the appearance of the country and people, with the Roman states. We had a good supper, and some excellent wine of Monte Pulciano, and moreover, the felicity of being waited upon by a neat, interesting young female.

On the following morning, as we were preparing to depart, we found our fair attendant had laid out a breakfast of coffee, &c., in so clean and inviting a manner, that we could not resist breaking through our usual custom of travelling a stage before we took breakfast. We found it so good, compared to what we had for some days been accustomed to, that we could not refrain from loudly expressing our preference of Tuscany. After this repast, we felt inclined for walking, and as the morning was delightful, Major S⸺ and myself, accompanied our voiture in this way for ten miles, until, near Arezzo, the inconvenience of several droves of cattle, intended for a fair at that place, induced us to re-enter the carriage. At this place, we regretted parting from Major S⸺, who left us for Sienna, promising however to rejoin us in a few days at Florence, where, he said, he had a brother, belonging to the Danish navy, with whom he should be happy to make us acquainted.

It was at this town that a monk, named Guido l’Aretino, in the eleventh century, first invented the present scale of musical notes. Our vittureno did not appear in haste to leave it, because he was desirous of picking up, if possible, a couple of passengers, to fill the now vacant places of Major S⸺ and his servant. This gave us nearly three hours to explore the place, which we found a pretty large and pleasing town.

At eleven we set out again, when just out of town, our driver took up a female into the cabriolet, accompanied by a man, probably her husband, who afterwards kept up with the carriage on foot, all the way to Florence. After passing through a variety of towns and villages, at nine in the evening, we reached the village of Piano, where we stopped at the post-house. On the following morning, Sunday the 24th, we left Piano at four o’clock, and after travelling through a very hilly country for four hours, got upon a fine plain, which carried us to the gates of Florence, where we arrived about ten o’clock, and having the custom-house stamps on our luggage, were only detained to inspect the passports, after which we proceeded directly to my old quarters, the house of Madame Hembert.

Having now travelled between Florence and Rome, both by way of Sienna and Perrugia, I feel in some degree competent to give an opinion of the comparative advantages of each route. It is almost worth while, to pass once by the former, to enjoy the luxury of returning by the latter, the roads and accommodations of which are so infinitely superior. The way by Sienna may answer very well to do penance upon, and I know no other _sentimental_ consideration which would induce a man to undertake it a second time. It is true, by Perrugia, the distance is more than fifty miles greater, but notwithstanding, the journey maybe completed in quite as short a space of time.

CHAP. XXIII.

FLORENCE—AND JOURNEY TO MILAN.

Madame Hembert of the Pension de Suisse, is a most pleasant and attentive woman, and so well calculated for her situation, that her house has been, for some time, a favourite resort of the visitors to this city. Finding it too small to accommodate her friends, she had, just before our arrival, taken a magnificent palace, called the Maladura, delightfully situated on the banks of the Arno, which she was now busily occupied in removing to. As it was not the most agreeable thing in the world, to reside in the midst of so confused a scene, we determined to take lodgings for the week of our proposed stay in Florence. While we were meditating this arrangement, who should we meet but Mr. F⸺, a gentleman to whom I was greatly indebted for various kind attentions at Rome, and who instantly proposed that we should place ourselves in the same house, where he himself lodged. This was so agreeable to our inclinations, that we requested him immediately to make the necessary arrangements, and on the following morning took possession of our rooms, situated in the Strada Mal-Aurange.

After this, my friend wished to see a race contested by horses without riders, but we found the ground so wet and uncomfortable, that we returned without waiting for the exhibition; which I was far from regretting, as I know no species of amusement, that, in my present situation, would have less interested me; nor was it novel to my friend.

We dined at a trattoria’s, after which I had the pleasure of accidentally meeting, at the library, with Mr. F⸺, with whom I had sailed in the felucca, from Nice, and was also introduced to Mr. H⸺, the gentleman whom I before mentioned, as having travelled with the French merchant, who threw himself into the crater of Vesuvius.

Florence is said to owe its origin to a Roman colony, composed of selected veterans from Cæsar’s legions; but in its modern state, you would scarcely imagine it the offspring of the camp; for its whole appearance bespeaks gentility, and its inhabitants are possessed of so courteous an air, that we cannot wonder it should be selected by our countrymen, as a residence preferable to every other in Italy. The society, both among the natives and foreigners is excellent; and the city abounds with literary institutions, and museums of natural history, and the fine arts. Good houses are easily procured, and provisions and necessaries of all kinds abundant and cheap.

The town itself, both as relates to its public and private buildings, is not only handsome, but in many respects magnificent, and the streets spacious and well paved. It is justly entitled to its appellation of _La bella Fiorenza_. The only fault attached to it, in my opinion, is its climate; beyond this nothing is wanting.

The week which we passed in this delightful capital flew away with rapidity, and left behind it the impressions of a magic dream; indeed we found ourselves under a state something similar to fascination, so that the longer we remained, the more agreeable its pleasures and society became; and the more enjoyment we partook of, the more appeared to remain unenjoyed. The most prudent plan which suggested itself, was to engage places in a voiture beforehand, for a fixed day, by which means we should find ourselves compelled to depart.

I can scarcely particularize all our employment in the interim, which was devoted to utility as well as amusement. We spent our mornings at the studios, museums, churches, &c.; the afternoon, in the society of the many friends whom we found here. On the Tuesday evening there was a grand procession in the _piazza del duomo_, or square of the cathedral, a large open place well paved with flag-stones; after which we attempted to visit the large theatre, called the Pergola, but were disappointed, as the house was full in every part, in consequence of the performance being for the benefit of their principal actor David, whose father, an old man of seventy-five, and long since retired from the stage, came forward to sing on the occasion. We were the more concerned at the disappointment, as it was certain that we should have no future night to appropriate to the same purpose.

Friday was St. Peter’s day, and observed as a grand fête, although with nothing like the magnificence displayed at Rome, where it is considered, next to Easter, the grandest festival of the year: the church of St. Peter’s is at the latter place illuminated on this occasion, and an old bronze figure of the saint dressed up in papal robes, decorated with immense numbers of diamonds; they are obliged, however, to protect him with soldiers, lest some of his worshippers should carry their zeal so far, as to endeavour to appropriate these ornaments for their private devotions.

On Saturday we paid our last visit to the celebrated gallery of Florence; but it must not be expected, that I can detail the various statues, and other curiosities, which this museum of the fine arts contains: was I to make the attempt, it would only embrace a repetition of what former travellers have largely, and perhaps many of them tediously, detailed.

Of course the Venus di Medici was the first object of our attention; but I must candidly confess, that I would prefer the possession of a plain amiable countrywoman of my own, whose mind I could admire, to this paragon of beauty, or all the Venuses, animate or inanimate, which Italy possesses. Not but that I am willing to profess myself fully sensible to the magic of beauty, and to admit that Italy possesses its share, as well as many amiable and estimable women; notwithstanding the manners, habits, and system of education, of the country is generally unpropitious to their production.

After the Venus, we were introduced to the Whetter, the Wrestler, the Dancing Fawn, the little Apollo, the flying Mercury, and the unhappy family of Niobe; as well as various others, whose names I cannot remember.

Before leaving Florence, I found it necessary to get a new passport from our ambassador; the old one having been filled up at every point with signs and countersigns, until the original writing was nearly lost in the midst of marginal additions, as well as unintelligible from the length of service it had undergone. After getting the new passport from our ambassador, it was necessary to procure the signatures of two departments of the police, the pope’s legate (to pass through a part of the Roman states,) the Austrian, Piedmontese ambassadors, and also the agent of the Swiss cantons, in expectation of getting through all these states without farther trouble; but our expectations in this respect were not realized; for they always contrive, in large towns, to create some necessity or other for additional signatures.

At length the day arrived for our departure for Milan, and, on Tuesday the 3rd of July, we took a final leave of Florence. In the early part of the day, before we began to ascend the Apennines, it was warm and pleasant, but after we reached these more elevated regions, it became so cold and cloudy, that we expected a fall of snow. In the afternoon we quitted the Tuscan territory with little trouble, but on arriving within the Roman states, were detained for some time, and all our baggage examined and leaded: this they made us pay for; but it had the good effect of enabling us to pass through Bologna, and out of the pope’s territories, without farther interruption. We stopped for the night at a solitary house in the Apennines, thirty-eight miles from Florence, which as we had five successive days to travel, although our horses and the roads were particularly good, was too long a day’s journey in so mountainous a country.

At noon, on the following day, we reached Bologna, where two of our passengers left us for Ferrara. Our remaining companions were an old gentleman with a young wife, returning home to Piacenza; he was a captain in the army of the Dutchess of Parma. Bologna impressed us as a dull, although a fine, city. We ascended to the top of a brick tower, from whence there is a commanding view of the country, with the Apennines forming a fine bold feature on one side, and the plains of Lombardy on the other. This tower, built by the family of Givelli, and said to be three hundred and sixty-five feet in height, is mounted by a wooden staircase of four hundred and fifty steps; the whole in so ruinous a state, that it was scarcely safe to ascend it. One would almost wonder that so large a structure should not have been thought worthy of a stone, or even marble, staircase, in a country where the latter material is so plentiful.

Within the entrance we found a shoemaker at work, who said he had the care of the building; an office, however, of which it seemed difficult to conceive the duties, unless, indeed, it was to prevent persons from attempting to ascend the tower. We had not time to visit the churches and paintings in this fine town.

On quitting Bologna, we travelled along a nearly level road shaded with rows of trees, and which convinced us that we had entered upon the plains of Lombardy.

In the evening, we arrived at Salmogie, a solitary house, where they regaled us with an excellent supper and wines; amongst other dainties, we were treated with Bologna sausages, and certainly thought them very fine, although, in general, I am not partial to salmagundi messes. It occurred to me, whether salmagundi might not be a corruption of the name of this house, which is famous for these sausages, and which are nothing more than salmagundi enclosed in a skin; great quantities of them are purchased by travellers, as well as sent to Bologna, and other neighbouring towns.

After leaving Salmogie, we passed from the popes territories into those of the Duke of Modena. We only stopped at the city of Modena long enough to shew them our passports and natural faces, nor did we purchase any masks to conceal them in, notwithstanding the place is very famous for the manufacture of such articles. We breakfasted at Reggio, after a journey of twenty miles from Salmogie. This city was once of importance, and still of considerable size, although it appeared partly deserted. Towards noon, the weather gave indications of an approaching storm, which came on shortly after three o’clock, with heavy rain, thunder, and lightning; but it was not of long duration, and was succeeded by a very fine evening.

At six o’clock, we entered the states of the unfortunate Maria Louisa, dutchess of Parma, where the custom-house officers accepted a small fee, to exempt us from the trouble of examining our baggage.

In little more than an hour after this, we arrived at the city of Parma, where, during the preparation for our supper, we visited the cathedral, at this time under repair; the evening was too far advanced to enable my friend to see the paintings of the cupola executed by Correggio, who was a native of this place; from thence, we bent our steps to the palace of the dutchess, a large mean looking structure, with nothing like the magnificence of a royal residence about it. It was much surpassed in respectability of appearance by some of the neighbouring buildings. The unhappy Maria Louisa had been a leading subject of our thoughts and conversation since we left Florence, and every thing we are able to glean from our companions, and other sources, contributed to inspire a more than ordinary degree of sympathy and commiseration for her misfortunes. The lines of Lord Byron did not fail to recur to our imagination.

“And she proud Austria’s mournful flower,
Thy still imperial bride,
How bears her breast the torturing hour?
Still clings she to thy side?
Must she too bend, must she too share
Thy late repentance, long despair,
Thou throneless Homicide!
If still she loves thee, hoard that gem,
’Tis worth thy vanish’d diadem!”

A gentleman of the dutchess’s household, a friend of our companions, supped with us, and expressed himself in the highest terms respecting her affability and kindness to her subjects, to whom she was in the habit of giving balls twice every week. She has placed about her, either as a _nurse_ or a keeper, an old Austrian general, who watches all her movements. Had we arrived somewhat earlier, we should have had the gratification of seeing, or, I should rather say, as relates to myself, examining many of the presents made to her by Bonaparte; as, for instance, her bed, the king of Rome’s cradle, and dressing-table; jewellery, and various other articles.

Provisions are said to be good and cheap at Parma, which we had no reason to call in question; we did not, however, much admire the cheese they gave us, although that produced by this country is so celebrated amongst all _gourmands_; possibly here, as in other places, the best is sent abroad: the land is rich, and, without doubt, excellent cheese is made in abundance from it.

Proceeding on our journey, we crossed the next day, at five miles from Parma, the bed of the river Carro, now entirely destitute of water; immediately above the place of passing, was a very fine bridge of twenty arches, commenced under the auspices of Maria Louisa, and now nearly completed. After breakfast, it turned out very cold and rainy: throughout our progress over the plains of Lombardy, we had anticipated much inconvenience from heat; we, however, found more reason to complain of cold. We fancied the peasantry also in expectation of warmer weather, as they were in general very lightly clad; the more common costume being black small-clothes, without either shoes or stockings.

At an early hour, we arrived at Placentia, where our companion and his lady left us, having arrived at their own residence; their characters appeared to be of a negative kind: he, a quiet, good sort of an old man; she, a pleasant and amiable young woman, sufficiently silent and reserved, probably from the laudable motive of not wishing to give rise to any unpleasant feeling in his mind; and, actuated by such motives, they might be, and probably were, as happy as if no disparity of years had existed: for it is in the qualities of the mind, and not of the person, that conjugal felicity is dependant.

“It is the secret sympathy,
The silver link, the silken tie;
Which heart to heart, and mind to mind,
In body and in soul doth bind.”

We arrived at the inn amidst a heavy fall of rain, and every thing felt cold and dismal; our horses and driver were apparently wearied out, although we had only travelled thirty-two miles, and this over a good level road.

Placentia, or Piacenza, is a fine city on the banks of the Po, but the state of the weather prevented us from exploring it.

On the following morning, our driver did not call us until six o’clock, and then it was accompanied by an intimation, that we should have plenty of time to breakfast, whence we inferred, that he was looking out for passengers to fill his now vacant places; but the real cause soon appeared, for in an hour after he apprized us, with great concern, that one of his horses was quite lame, and, totally unable to proceed; but that he had found another voiture, which would carry us to Milan; and for our fare in which, he would arrange with its driver, so that it would make no manner of difference to us. We were glad to comply with this proposal, although we regretted changing our driver, whom we had found a very civil and attentive man: this inability to proceed, was, undoubtedly, to be attributed to his having driven us too far on the first day, in order to oblige two gentlemen of Ferrara, by getting on the second day to Bologna for breakfast instead of supper.

Our new voiture was a much lighter carriage, than the one we had parted from. Before we left the town, we took up an Italian lady and gentleman, who proved very pleasant and respectable people:—the lady about twenty-two, with a pair of such bewitching black eyes, that my friend C⸺ was scarcely able to sustain their glances. The gentleman, who appeared to be her relative, was about thirty, and conversed in a very sensible, but free manner, on the political state of his country, and patriotically anticipated the time when she would be enabled to throw off the yoke of foreign despotism, and assert her liberty and independence: we had, however, only the pleasure of their company as far as Padoglia,—about ten miles.

On leaving Placentia, we crossed the Po, on a bridge of pontoons. The stream was rapid, and the breadth of the river much the same as that of the Thames at London-bridge. We were strongly reminded of Addison’s poetical description of this noble river, whose banks, both in ancient and modern history, have been the scene of so many sanguinary contests.

“Fir’d with a thousand raptures, I survey
Eridanus, thro’ flowery meadows stray,
The king of floods! that, rolling o’er their plains,
The towering Alps of half their moisture drains,
And proudly swoll’n with a whole winter’s snows,
Distributes wealth and plenty where it flows.”

Soon after this we entered the Milanese territories, and were impressed with the propriety of manner in which our baggage was inspected by the Austrian troops; there was no disposition to neglect their public duty for private interest, no sneaking after bribes; they maintained the necessity of examination, but it was effected, without reward, in an unvexatious manner, and with a proper consideration and respect for the feelings of the proprietors. The only charge made was a regular government fee for the attachment of stamped leads, to enable our luggage to pass throughout all other stations belonging to this government without farther interruption.

I am happy in being able to concur with a number of my countrymen, in doing justice to the integrity of the Austrians in their various transactions with English travellers: that the natives should inveigh against them is not surprising; since it could scarcely be expected, under their relative political situation, and amidst the great distinction of character and habits, that the two nations should assimilate cordially together. Although the Milanese now profess to give the preference to the French government, the time was, during the superior influence of that nation, that they were as averse to its domination, as they are now to that of Austria. Such is the versatility of human nature!

When we were within four miles of Lodi, one of the wheels of our carriage flew off, in consequence of the linchpin becoming disengaged; we spent some time in looking for it, but in vain, and were obliged to substitute a piece of wood, which, however, carried us safely to Lodi. We immediately, on our arrival, proceeded to visit the celebrated bridge, immortalized by the victory of Bonaparte over the Austrians, and which was mainly gained by his own bravery and personal exertions. We found it nearly two miles distant from where our carriage stopped; but to have left it unnoticed, would have been as unpardonable as to have gone to Loretto, without seeing the _casa santa_ of the blessed Virgin.

I cannot do better than give the following concise account of this day, so important to the destinies of the future ruler of France.

“Beaulieu had drawn up his forces behind the Adda, and fortified, with thirty pieces of cannon, a long bridge, in front of which was the town of Lodi, defended by his advanced posts: these Bonaparte attacked, and, after a sharp contest, drove into the town; from whence they passed the bridge, and joined the main body of their army. A battalion of French grenadiers, who had hitherto borne down all before them, now reached the bridge, shouting, “Vive la Republique,” but the dreadful fire kept up by the enemy having stopped their progress, Generals Berthier, Massena, Cervoni, &c. rushed forward: still, however, even their presence might have proved ineffectual, if it had not been for the gallantry of Bonaparte, who, snatching a standard from the hand of a subaltern, placing himself in front, animating his soldiers by his actions and gesticulations, for his voice was drowned by the noise of musquetry and cannon; till these intrepid fellows, led on by their beloved commander, passed the bridge, amidst showers of cannon balls, silencing the artillery, and throwing the main body of Beaulieu’s army in such disorder, that he fled with haste towards Mantua; having lost in this action twenty field pieces, and in killed, wounded, and prisoners, above two thousand men.”

Although pressed for time, we could not deny ourselves the pleasure of passing over this renowned bridge; on arriving at the opposite side, we had the additional gratification of meeting with a beautiful maid of Lodi, at the wash-tub; and who appeared to interest my friend greatly, although he remarked that he had already seen several handsome females at Lodi.

After a hasty dinner at the Gambero, or sign of the Lobster, our vittureno came to inform us, that he was unable to get his coach repaired in time, but that another was waiting, which would take us on to Milan. Thus we were transferred to a third coach; we had some suspicion that this last was a convenient arrangement between the two drivers, to enable the one who had brought us from Placentia to avoid going on with two passengers only; while, at the same time, it gave the other a full complement. However, we had no reason to complain, the road was good, and our new driver ran us into Milan, a distance of twenty miles, in three hours, and with a single pair of horses only.

CHAP. XXIV.

MILAN.

On arriving at Milan, we took up our residence at the Croci di Malta, which is one of the most convenient houses in this place for foreigners, as it has an excellent table d’hôte. The next day, Sunday, was exceedingly cold, notwithstanding which, we commenced our examination of this fine old city.

We first visited the magnificent cathedral, built entirely of white marble; to the very top of which we ascended, by a flight of five hundred and twelve steps. But it is better that I should borrow a description of this most noble edifice, than attempt an imperfect one of my own.

“It is situated almost in the centre of the city, and occupies part of the great square; it is of Gothic architecture, and its materials are white marble. In magnitude, this edifice yields to few in the universe. Inferior only to St. Peter’s of Rome; it equals in length, and in breadth surpasses the cathedrals of Florence and St. Paul’s: in the interior elevation, it yields to both; but in its exterior, it exceeds both; in its fretwork, carving, and statues, it goes beyond all churches in the world, St. Peter’s itself not even excepted. Its double aisles, its lofty arches, the lustre of its walls, its numerous niches all filled with marble figures, give it an appearance novel, even in Italy, and singularly majestic. In the front of the chancel, and almost immediately above the steps, rises on four additional steps the altar, and behind it the choir, in a semicircular form. The pillars of the cathedral of Milan are more than ninety feet in height, and about eighty in diameter. The dimensions of the church at large are as follow: in length, four hundred and ninety feet, in breadth, two hundred and ninety-eight, in interior elevation under the dome, two hundred and fifty-eight, and four hundred in exterior, that is, to the summit of the tower. The pavement is formed of marble of different colours, disposed in various patterns and figures. The number of niches are very great, and every niche has its statue, which, together with those placed on the ballustrade of the roof, are reported to amount to more than four thousand; and many among them are said to be of great merit.

“Over the dome rises a tower or spire; in ascending this, the traveller will observe that the roof of the church is covered with solid blocks of marble, which are connected together by a powerful cement, which possesses not only the durability and hardness, but the colour also of the marble itself; so that the eye of the observer scarcely perceives the points and lines in which the joinings are made, and the whole roof appears to be composed of one immense sheet of the finest white, and polished marble. The singularity and uncommon splendour of this roof, cannot perhaps be adequately described. The prospect of the surrounding country, and objects from the summit of this tower, is grand and very extensive; it includes the whole city, and the luxuriant plain of Milan; shews its intersection in every part, with rivers and canals, its beautiful display of gardens, orchards, vineyards, and groves; and its numerous and interesting villages and towns; and extends to the neighbouring Alps, which unite their bleak ridges with the milder, and more distant Appennines, and seem to compose a grand and natural frame, to this picture of beauty and interest. In its materials, the cathedral of Milan certainly surpasses all the churches in the universe, the noblest of which are only lined and coated with marble, while this is entirely built, paved, vaulted, and roofed, with the same substance, and that of the whitest, and most resplendent kind.”

After examining the cathedral, we visited the gardens in the neighbourhood of the Porta Orientale, where there are frequently dancing and a variety of other entertainments, on a Sunday evening, but the day was unfavourable for these diversions. From hence, we extended our walk to Porta Roma along the new boulevards, formed by the Austrians within the last two years, and which are become the fashionable promenade, and drive, of Milan.

The next day was also an unpropitious one; indeed it appears, that the neighbourhood of the Alps has a most unfavourable influence on the climate; and in winter must make it extremely cold and damp. We visited this morning the theatre of La Scala, at the time under repair. Walking over the pit and stage, we took the opportunity of comparing its size, with that of St. Carlos at Naples; at first my friend imagined it smaller, but before we left, he was inclined to think the point doubtful; but it must be recollected, that the estimate was made under very different circumstances, the latter being lighted up and full of company, while the present one was empty, and _en dishabille_.

We met with many friends at Milan, and spent our time agreeably enough, but from circumstances, were induced to hasten our departure sooner than we intended; in consequence we were prevented from visiting some of the most interesting parts of the city, as the various churches, the coliseum of Napoleon, and the triumphal arch, erected in honour of him, over one of the gates; the lazaretto, the mint, the museum, the minor theatres, and various other places. The city itself, is one of the most intricate I ever met with, the streets so numerous, short, and narrow, that we had never been more perplexed to find our way.

We were induced to leave Milan, as I before remarked, sooner than at first intended; this was in consequence of the difficulty experienced in procuring a satisfactory conveyance to Geneva.

We had flattered ourselves, that we could have made arrangements to accompany some Swiss gentlemen in their voiture, which would have afforded us an opportunity of gaining much agreeable information from them, but in this we were disappointed. As a preparatory measure, a day or two before we proposed to depart, we entered into various negotiations with different vitturenos, all of which we were obliged to conduct with the greatest caution, and which became abortive, from some determination or other to impose upon us.

We had actually engaged one to convey us to Geneva, for a considerable sum, under the full explanation of its being intended to cover the usual expenses of supper, &c. but when he was desired to sign the agreement, he pretended that these necessaries were not to be included.

At length, on Tuesday the 10th, we met a vittureno, who was departing in the morning, with the intention of taking the route of Turin; when viewing the little chance we had of getting any conveyance, which would take the passage of the Simplon for some days, we determined to embrace the opportunity, and immediately entered into an arrangement with him, to convey us to Geneva, resting two days at Turin, bearing our expenses for supper and beds each night, while actually travelling, for which we agreed to pay him four Napoleons and a half each; this as the journey would occupy nine days, we thought a reasonable bargain. The expense of travelling is considered to increase on leaving Italy, and passing through Switzerland, particularly by the way of the Simplon, in consequence of the great number of barriers on that road; but I became convinced from experience, that the real difference of expense, is nothing equal to what the proprietors of the voitures would wish one to suppose. The Swiss drivers appear far more acute than the French or the Italians, for the cunning of the latter is easily detected; while the manners of the former are more sagacious and collected. One in particular, impressed me so strongly with his archness of expression, that my imagination leads me to suppose, if my powers of sight would admit of a use of the pencil, I could at this instant depict his portrait, as correctly as if I had actually seen him.

CHAP. XXV.

JOURNEY FROM MILAN BY TURIN, AND OVER MOUNT CENIS TO GENEVA.

We left Milan on Tuesday, July the 11th, early in the morning of a very fine day, in the largest, and most elegant voiture which I had met with in France or Italy, having only two companions; one, a lady with her lap-dog, who, although she was not very young, was witty and amusing; the other, a singular character of a Frenchman, an ex-colonel of the army of Bonaparte, and who amused us by his eccentricities. He had fought in the battle of Waterloo, and afterwards, been deprived of his pension and half pay, as well as for a time banished the kingdom. He had received a variety of wounds in Egypt, and other parts of the world. My friend informed me that his appearance was shabby, although he talked of having a very rich wife at Lyons. According to his own account, he was at this time carrying on, in a large way, the business of a horse-dealer; and boasted of supplying various princes, and noblemen, with Arabian and other fine horses. Soon after leaving Milan, we passed a voiture, from the outside of which, a trunk had just been stolen. Fifteen miles from Milan, we crossed the Tesseno, which cost us eight centimes per head. This river takes its rise from Mount St. Gothard, and falls into the Po. Soon afterwards, we entered the Piedmontese states, and after the customary examinations, reached Novara for breakfast, having travelled thirty-five miles from Milan. Novara is an ancient city, but of no great note. After breakfast, we proceeded on our journey, and in the afternoon, crossed two small rivers, where they took a toll, not only for our carriage and horses, but ourselves also. About six o’clock, we arrived at Verceil, a very ancient city, with narrow, ill-paved streets, and a scanty population. A number of Austrian troops, who had occupied Piedmont in support of the royalist party, were quartered at this place, and sacrilegiously using the cathedral as stables. We understood that all the principal towns, with the exception of Turin itself, probably in consequence of a particular request, or as a point of delicacy, were at this time under the charge of the Austrians.