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This institution reserves the right to refuse to accept a copy order if, in its judgement, fulfillment of the order would involve violation of the copyright law. A UTHOR : COBETT, JAMES PAUL TITLE: JOURNAL OF A TOUR IN ITALY... PLACE: LONDON DA TE : 1830 Master Negative # COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY LIBRARIES PRESERVATION DEPARTMENT Master Negative # BIBLIOGRAPHIC MICROFORM TARGET Restrictions on Use: Original Material as Filn\ed - Existing Bibliographic Record cssa and a jer land 1829... Londo 50 d ouTn n par ol OT a TOUT in. if !y -- . of Firance and Swifzi ..-■fiom OcTober, )8Z8, lo Sep-femter; 7777i0 yn I83Q. NaTp\I). .V392.p. I ill. y » ■ I I — . TECHNICAL MICROFORM DATA FILM SIZE: ^Snmyn IMAGE PLACEMENT: lA QlA) IB IIB DATE FILMED: 'Sr /J^FT 92 REDUCTION RATIO: /_/. A_ ■d IN ITIALS TTib^C^ FILMED BY: RESEARCH PUBLICATIONS. INC WOODBRIDGE. 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LONDON : FRINTED BY MILLS, JOWETT, AND MILLS, BOLT-COURT, FI EBT-STBKET. ENGLISH GRAMMAR. Price 3s. FRENCH GRAMMAR. Price 5s, COTTAGE ECONOMY. Price 2s. 6d. MR. COBBETT'S RURAL RIDES. One thick vol. 8vo. Price 5s. THE WOODLANDS. Price 14s. THE ENGLISH GARDENER. Price 6s. YEAR'S RESIDENCE IN AMERICA. Price bs. MR. COBBETT'S SERMONS. Price 3s. 6d. THE POOR MAN'S FRIEND. Price 8d. PAPER AGAINST GOLD. Price 5s. HISTORY OF THE PROTESTANT REFORMATION. Two vols. Royal 8vo. fine paper. Price 10s. ROMAN HISTORY, in French and English. Price 13s. AMERICAN SLAVE TRADE. Price 2s. TULL'S HUSBANDRY. One vol. 8vo. Price l5s. EMIGRANT'S GUIDE. One vol. ISmo. Price 2s. 6d. ' A TREATISE ON COBBETT'S CORN. Ono vol. 12mo. Price 5s. 6d. ADVICE TO YOUNG MEN. One vol. l2mo. 7s, 6d, to 183?48 List if Mr. Cobbett's Booh. MARTENS'S LAW OF NATIONS. One .ol. 8™. Price THE LAW OF TURNPIKES. By W. Cobbett, Jun. One vol. 12mo. Price Ss. 6d. LETTERS FROM FRANCE. By John M. Cobbett. One vol. l2mo. Price 4«. 12mo. Pnce 2s. 6d. AN ITALIAN GRAMMAR. By James P. Cobbett. IJmo. Price OS. A SKETCH OF THE LIFE OF GENERAL LAFAYETTE Pnce Is. ^^* n JOURNAL. October, 1828. 2lrsf. FoNTAiNBLEAU. — Start this morning from Paris for Lyons, coming through Villejuify Fromenteau, Essonne, Ponthierry, and Chailly; and sleep here to- night. Go in the evening, as soon as we arrive, to see the royal chdteau at this place. It is a magnificent old building, one really fit for the residence of a prince. The garden is in that formal style of laying-out which so much prevails on the Continent : long, straight gravel walks, bordered by rows of trees which, from a long sue* cession of careful trimmings, have been made to look like so many live walls ; fountains ; and miniature lakes, with weeping willows leaning over their green margins, and swans floating on their waters. These lakes, or ponds rather, and their appertenances, would be ad- mired any where ; and the tout ensemble of the scene is indeed beautiful and grand ; but the close clipping of the rows of trees, trees which would be so much more ornamental in a more natural shape ; not to condemn such a violence as this is, would be tacit injustice to- wards the superior taste of our English gardeners. — The grapes of Fontainbleau are justly celebrated. They are d AVALLON. remarkably thin-skinned and sweet ; and, though some people say that we have as good grapes from our hot- houses, I certainly never saw any fruit of this kind so fine in England. The best grapes at this place are now selling at fourpence sterling the pound, 22nd. JoiGNY. — Come to this place through Fossard, Villeneuve-la-Guyard, Ponf-sur-Yonne, Sens, Ville" neuve-le-Roy, and Ville- Vallier, The king is now stay- ing at Fontainbleau, on a hunting excursion ; so that we have to pay one additional post both on entering and on quitting that town ; and this, it seems, is always the custom in a country town where the king may happen to be. It is not merely for the ho7iour of the thing, as one might suppose, that his Majesty's neighbourhood thus increases the traveller's expenses: there is, they tell us, a partial scarcity of fodder and other things, occasioned, for the time, by the demands of the royal retinue. — Too much cannot be said in praise of the noble forest of Fontainbleau. Great as is the distance which you hare to travel through it, it is a piece of scenery that an admirer of forests may view a hundred times with equal pleasure.— Hay-making going on (second crop of meadow-hay) between Sens and Joigny. They are now making lucerne-hay also ; and this they truss in the fields before it is carted. 23rd. AvALLON. — Come to-day through Basson, Juxerre, Saint-Bris, Vermanton, and Lucy4e-Bois. A country of vines, and the greater part of it very hilly. Fine views, and apparently capital land. The wine of LYONS. 3. the country hereabouts is more than commonly good : you may have a litre of it, about three English pints for less than threepence of our money. 24tk, AuTUN. — Come through Rouvray, La Roche en Breny, Saulieu, Pierre- Ecrite, and Chissy. Not so many vines, and country less hilly. Much scenery here to put us in mind of England ; the fields being well fenced with live hedges, the lack of which the eye of an Englishman may naturally regard as a defect in any country. — I believe I must have to retract an observation which I made, a ie\x years ago, in a " Ride in France," with regard to the use oi potatoes by the French. They do, as I am told here, eat a great deal of this root; and they boil it, as with us. Cakes made of buckwheat, after the American fashion, is also a food of the country peo- ple in this part of France. 25th. Macon.— To-day through SL Emilan, St, Leger, Bourgneuf, Chalons -surSaone, TurnuSy and St. Albin. Hilly, all the way. Much corn-land. Indian com grown here, in apparently large quantities ; and a good many fields of turnips, of a sort of red tap. Culti- vation gGod. Fine water-meadows in the valleys. 2Qth. Lyons.— Through Maison Blanche, St. George de Rognains, Anse, and Limonest. This city is, all circumstances considered, a very fine one. Its popula- tion is about 100,000. The central part of the city is almost immediately on a point of land, where the rivers Rhone and Saone join together in one stream, which renders the situation peculiarly advantageous. You B 2 4- LYONS. approach Lyons on a descent of considerable distance, -which gives you a good view of tlie city and its environs. It is more English-like, on a distant view, than any place I have seen in this country. It is not a mere com- pact mass of buildings ; but the place has an agreeable irregularity about it, and the beautiful hilly country around is sprinkled with nice-looking houses. Lyons seems to be increasing in size ; great numbers of houses in the neighbourhood have the appearance of being newly built.— The Hotel de V Europe is a fine hotel, and as dirty a one as need be. The furniture in the salle ^ manger decorated with tapestry, and that not of an inferior kind ; four looking-glasses, each of which contains not less than forty feet square of glass; the sides of the room of finely-carved wood ; rich window-curtains; side-tables with marble slabs. To consist with all this, the dining-table is dirty, never, to all appearance, having been either washed or scrubbed ; and down one of the splendid looking-glasses may be too easily traced the streams of the major part of a bottle of beer, which, as the waiter says, spouted up to the top of it il y a quelques jours {11 few days ago)! ^Tth. — There are two theatres in Lyons; and the larger of them is by no means a mean house ; to this one we go in the evening, and see the *' Femmes iSa- vantes" pretty well played. But what a different style of play-going is this from that of an English town, and how inconsistent with the propensity to show of the French people ! The ladies, in that part of the house. LYONS. 5 which we call the " dress circle," seem to have stu- diously left their best dresses at home. If they hare done this for the sake of economy, the motive is indeed justified in reason ; for the finery must be of a stubborn hue which should come off none the worse- for being worn in a place of assemblage so dirty. This, however, is not the motive : there is no fashion for dress in the French theatre. Most of the ladies wear large bonnets ; and when they feel it agreeable to disencumber their heads of these, the bonnet is flapped over in front of the boxes, and dangles towards the pit from one of its ribbons. 28M.-~We take our places in a bateau, to go down the Rhone to Avignon, For this passage, the mere car- riage of us, we pay 12 shillings sterling each person. It is at the traveller's option to go hence to Avignon by land or by water. Many prefer the river, on account of the badness of the road, which, I understand, is very rough. The going by water, down the Rhone, may be very quick, as the current is so rapid. But the objection to the river is, that it is, in parts, so shallow that nothing but a flat-bottomed vessel is fit to navigate it. Our bateau is of this description : it is a flat- bottomed, open boat, or barge rather, of about sixty-five or seventy feet in length, constructed in a style so rude, and having so httle appearance of accommodation or comfort in it, that nothing but the hope of a short passage, and fine weather to make it in, would induce genteel folks to embark in such a vessel, at all. Our party, with some other English travellers, have a separate part of the boat to themselves. 6 ST. ESPRIT. The fore half of the room is occupied by the commander and his crew, with about thirty people of the country who are going to Avignon ; and immediately in the stem is an Englishman's travelling carriage. The vessel is worked with long oars, which are required more to keep her in due course than to add to her speed. 29 th. Tain (on the bank of the Rhone). — We start from Lyons early this morning, bringing to, for a short time, at Chamon to breakfast ; and sleep at Tain to- night.— A cold; cutting, north wind, which is gene- rally felt here at this season of the year : they call it la bise.— It is curious to observe the mingling of the two streams, the Rhone and the Saone; the former being so very clear, and the latter comparatively so muddy. The scenery down the river is mountainous ; the mountains increase in height as we descend, and are irregular in shape, and very rocky. Cultivation, prin- cipally that of vines. The wine here is excellent. 30th. St. Esprit (on the bank of the Rhone).— -We get on board again before daylight this morning; break- • fast at Valence; and sleep here to-night.— The banks of the Rhone are exceedingly interesting and romantic : chains of mountains, wild and sharp-pointed, a large part of them bearing nothing, and consisting of nothing but rock. Some convents, and ruins of old chateaux, whicjb have a fine effect as seen from the river. The villages, too, ar« most singular; they are so many dirty little crowded old-fashioned towns : how Uttle resembling our idea of a village I The stream of the Rhone is strikingly ST. ESPRIT. V beautiful, though it requires constant care to navigate it without running aground ; it is varying in course at every instant, winding about with great rapidity, and with a brisk succession of deep and shallow w^ater, splashing eddies, and rippling shoals. The impetuous current pours along in defiance of incessant obstacles, and dashes •over or around whatever stands in the way of its career* It does seem, in a manner, to be devouring the land it runs through. The Rhone is said to be so called from the Latin rodercy to eat, or gnaw ; and hence this river has been apostrophized by Petrarch, Rapido flume, che d'alpestra vena Rodendo intomo, onde '1 tuo nome prendi, &c. The wind to-day so severely keen, that one m\istfeel it to know what it is like. My thermometer (which is of J'ahrenheit) stands at 50. We have a slight cover- ing to our bark, consisting of tarpawling spread on some hoops bent across the Vessel; and we have some charcoal burning in a large pan. This is a style of travelling that one might expect to meet with on the Ohio or on the Swan River ; but we did not look for this with Frenchmen, on the Rhone. They have endeavoured to establish a steam-boat between Lyons and Avignon ; but it was found either that the river was in some parts too shal- low, or that the rapidity of the current was too great* There appears to be nothing like a regular packet-boat for the public here. The boat which contains us is more frequently laden with logs of wood than with traveller*. mmm 8 ST. ESPRIT, IB II Our apartment in the boat is divided from that of the Freich passengers by a partition of thick canvass, which, luckily, is not sufficiently impervious to prevent our par- ticipating in the mirth of our neighbours, who have, all this day long, been kept in a roar of laughter at the jokes of one of their party. This wag, or farceur , as his countrymen would call him, poured forth his sallies in the genuine dialect of this part of France, the patois Lyonnais or Provencal ; and if his wit was sometimes too vulgar not to betray a lack of learning, its extrava- gancies showed that nature had amply furnished him with imagination. It was too much to expect, being so nearly in the presence of this gentleman as we were, that we should come off without one jest at our expence. It happened, to-day, that some of our party were playing at cards, and that an unexpected turn-up in the game gave rise to a loud laugh : " Aha!" exclaimed the far- ceur, cutting short the thread of a story he had just thea in hand, and pausing as if to wonder at any thing like gaiety in such sedate people as the English, " Aha ! il paraU que les Goddems samusent ! " (it seems the " Goddems^* are having some fun); then, putting his eye to a small aperture in the hanging, and turning back to his companions, he explained to them the cause in a tone of moderated surprise : " //s jouent aux cartes*' (they are playing at cards). How much less of the bear there is in a Frenchman's ridicule than in that of an Englishman ; and how much more numerous are such, -sprightly fellows in this country than with us! AVIGNON. 9 sirs;. AvioNON.— The wind to-day blowing almost a hurricane ; so violent that there is danger of the covering being blown away from the boat. We get off about ten o'clock, and have a severely cold jaunt of it.— There are several fine bridges across the Rhone j one of them is a swing bridge, much like that lately made over the Thames by Hammersmith. We are hardly more than well off this morning, when the hat of one of our crew is blown into the water. They stop to pick it up, in spite of the well-known danger of sticking fast ; and we have to wait during three quarters of an hour, vainly endeavouring to get the boat away from the strand again, such is the force of the current. Succeed, how- ever, at last ; but not, of course, before we have repeat- edly wished all shill-I-shall-I, chattering Frenchmen, and all their flat-bottomed boats (except one), at the bottom of the Rhone !— A good many boats coming up the river. Most of them are laden with large cargoes of chesnuts, the famous marrons de Lyon. For these boats to ascend the Rhone, it requires many days to go a hundred miles. They are drawn along by horses: we see as many as thirty horses or more to every two or three boats.— The country more and more picturesque as we approach Avignon, where we laud in the evening. November. Irst. to 10 th,— We are detained here all this while in consequence of illness.— The country imme- diately round Avignon is agreeable. There are a £5 I ■^■9^ ^■■^ 10 ST. CAXAL. AIX. 11 good many olives, though but of a small size The Hotel de V Europe here, kept by Pierron, is a desery- edly celebrated house; the charges are very reason, able, considering the superior entertainment afforded. It is said to be one of the best hotels in Europe.-Avig- Bon is situated immediately on the Rhone. The town is not large, nor is it elegant in the inside. It is encir- cled by a handsome old wall, however, round which, on the outside, there is a road to drive, and a promenade shaded with rows of trees. The ancient palace, formerly the habitation of the Popes, stands on an elevated situ- ation, just within the town, and overlooking the river. lUh, Orgon.— Fine weather (69f . We set off to- day, with a carriage and pair of horses, for Marseilles. Road horribly bad : we are seven hours and a half going about twenty miles. Orgon a small place.— A flat coun- try, and seemingly good land. Corn; much vine- yard ; grass land ; and some lucerne. nth, St. Canal.— Fine weather (fiS). This is ano- ther small town or village. A short day's journey again, coming, literally, a slow walk all the way. The road, it ■appears, is never good here ; and it is now unusually bad. •I ♦ I have, throughout ray Journal, kept as correct an account as I possibly could of the sort of weather and of the temperature of the air. It is Fahrenheit's thermometer that I carried with me. The figures in a parenthesis, which I put at the beginning of my notes of each day, are intended to mark the highest degree at which the theimometer stood during the day-time of the twenty -four hours. owing to heavy falls of rain. Much of the land very barren ; a good deal of mountain of mere rock. Some vines and olives ; many mulberry- trees (for the silk- worms) ; and walnuts. An uninteresting and somewhat wretched-looking country. I3tk. Aix. — A little rain, but mild (63). Come to- day only about ten miles. Country much the same as yesterday. Some olives along here, and a great many almonds. No chdteaux, no gentlemen's houses seen from the road : not the least appearance of riches, in the ordinary acceptation of the word. One cannot help wondering at the small number of dwellings, of any description, that meet the eye here. The labouring people throughout this part of France look healthy, and, judging from their faces, seem to be well fed. — They have an odd way in this country of clipping the coats of their horses, mules, and asses. All the upper half of the animal's body, including half the neck, and the upper part of the head, with the ears, has the hair clipped off close ; and the shortened hair is left so smooth, so com- pletely free from the traces of the shears, that, at first eight, one might suppose the thing to be a freak of nature. It is for ease in cleaning, and quick drying, that this operation is performed. \Ath, — Some showers of rain, but very mild (63). •—This place is the capital of the part of France called Provence, It is situated in a plain, and is an agreeable place enough, particularly in its main street, the houses of which are large and well-built. Aix con- 12 MARSEILLES. tains upwards of 20,000 inhabitants. There is a ca- thedral ; and just outside of the town stands a large college, which has been abdicated by the Jesuits, who lately occupied it, but who have been obliged to yield to the awful hue-and-cry of the " liberals" \5th. Marseilles.— Fine day (67).— A short day's journey to this place from Aix. — Much rocky barren country. Vines, olives, and corn ; but a great part of the land very shingly and shallow. The sun seems to do the work here. — The immediate approach to Mar- seilles exhibits a fine view. We are for some time descending towards the city, having the Mediterranean in full sight. Very fine vines and olives around the city, the entrance to which presents an animating scene of business and bustle. The houses in the principal streets are high and well-built; streets straight, well paved, with flagged walks (trottoirs) for foot-passengers ; a thing not met with in many French towns. — ^The weather is so fine that we dine with our windows open. I6th to 2lrs^. — Fine warm weather, with a few showers of rain. (From 56 to 67.) — We are at the Hotel BeauvaUj a good house. The windows of our rooms are immediately overlooking the quait a theatre of wares and traffick, which has more life, and less of the disgusting about it, than any other like object that I have ever looked on. The prospect is quite spirit- stirring. But, then, the sky under which all is going forward is delightfully clear ; the sun is shining its ■brightest and serenest upon every thing in view ; and the CUJES. 13 atmosphere is entirely free from that smoke in which the cities of England are everlastingly smothered. For a place of such trade, this city is surprisingly clean. The people, too, are good-looking. One would hardly be- lieve, from merely English experience, that a large sea- port could be so agreeable. The French have not much taste for towns ; at least, their taste is not like ours : our French friends here marvel at our admiration of Mar- seilles, and seem to count the cleanliness of it as no weighty consideration in its favour. — Melons grow here in the open ground, and fig-trees in the fields. There is a sort, of green-fleshed melon ripe at this time, called melon d'hiver. We buy melons for 4c?. a-piece, figs for \\d. the dozen, medlars for Id. the lb. Great quantities of roses, pinks, carnations, and tuberoses, in the market. 22«d CujES.— Beautiful weather {m). Start this morning from Marseilles for Nice, We have a fresh carriage, hired at Marseilles. There are six persons in our party ; we are to be seven days on the road to Nice ; and we are to pay 91. 12s. for the carriage. There are three principal ways of travelling here : with your own carriage and post-horses; by the diligence^ or stage- coach ; and by what is called voiturin. Our way is the last of these three. The voiturin, or man who con- ducts you, is very often the proprietor of the carriage and cattle himself; and he is, generally speaking, a respect- able and trust- worthy person. Our carriage is drawn by a pair of those tall strong mules in which the southern parts of France so much abound. The form of a voi" 14 CUJ£8. 1 turin-crrm. is nearly the same as tl.at of our barouche, only that, in the front, and quite separate from the mam interior, there is an additional seat for two or three per- ^„s, which has a head to it. and a leather apron, pre- cisely like those of an English gig; and this compartment of L vehicle is called the cabriolet. Great care . taken to have room and convenience for the packing of luggage. The part which we call the foot-board situ- ated between the hind-wheels, is purposely made vejr .pacious; and upon this are placed three or four good- sized trunks, or the most cumbrous of the luggage, what- ever it may be ; and as this does not ride on the spr.ags > strong chain is employed to bind all fast, and prevent injury by jolting, the chain being drawn to any degree of tightness required by the use of a small crank on a cog-wheel, a bit of machinery most commodious, and characteristic of the general strength of the whole equ»- pa^l■«i;ll■^■■Jt^■l» / 20 NICE. there are only some small spots having a sutHcient depth of soil to get in the plough. A little wheat and lucerne, both looking good. The arbutus grows wild on the sides of the mountains. But the fine flourishes here to the exclusion of pretty nearly every thing else; so much so, that it is a vulgar jeu de mots with the country- people, *' Lcs pins et les coquins se trou^ vent PARTOUT.*' — Cannes must be a delightful place for a summer residence. The market is well supplied ; and there is an abundance of fine sea-fish. Our inn, the Hotel de la Poste, is good in every respect : one of the best houses, if not the very best, that we have been in at all. 29th. Nice (in Italian Nizza). — Beautiful weather (65). — Our expenses at the inn at Cannes were as follows. For Dinner last night : Excellent bread. Two sorts of fish, A roasted leg of mutton, A stewed duck, with olives, A roasted woodcock, Boiled and fried potatoes, Cheese, Butter, Sallad, Apples^ raw and preserved. Figs, Grapes, Almonds, N.ICE. 21 Cakes, Capital wine, three years old. Sugar and milk for our Tea. For Breakfast this morning : Coffee and milk. Two sorts of fish, Bread, Eggs, Butter, Honey. On coming away we take with us the remnant of the leg of mutton. And we pay for all this (lodging in- cluded) 5s. lOd. each person. At some places we have paid a smaller sum than this ; but the bill at Cannes may, as relates to this part of France, be reckoned a just specimen of the charging as proportionate with the fare. — The greater part of our road to-day lies along- side of the sea ; sometimes close to the shore, sometimes winding away from it, through a fine rich country, where, in the open fields, there is the seemingly incon- gruous, but, at the same time, most charming medley ia cultivation, oi wheat, vetches, horse-beans, pease , cauli- Jiowers, turnips, oranges, vines, olives, walnuts^ mul- berries, cherries, Jigs, apricots, and peaches I I do not mean, that these things all thrive here equally well, or that they are all of the best. Yet, they are all growing in the same soil, no one of them, apparently, requiring any very nice management. I have heard some of those who have travelled in Italy pretend io 2 though it can hardly be said to be so at this time. It has an ancient and high wall round it, the streets are broad and straight; and there are some fine churches and other buildings ; but the place has much declined in its importance : there is a dulness about it which quickly informs you of the fact. Yet, this place is so situated, the neighbourhood is such, that I should think it an agreeable place to live in. Pistoja stands in a plain, at the foot of the Apennines, and the river Ombrone runs hard by. The population of this city is now not above 10,000. It is easy to perceive that the inhabitants must, at one time, have been much more numerous. The women of Pistoja are famous for their beauty. The best inn at Pistoja is one just without the gates, in which we are lodged. It is but a middling house, thragh the keeper of it is obliging to his customers. — The whole of our ride this day has been most delightful. We passed, in coming from Lucca, through a little place called Borgo Buggiano, and Pescia, a small episcopal town. The country part of the little state of Lucca, its agriculture, is quite a treat to see. This is not farming, according to our custom ; it is literally jnarket-gardening all the way. Not an inch of ground seems to be neglected. The fields, in most cases, are extremely small. The vast plain, extending from all around Lucca towards Pistoja, has not so much the appearance of a tract of country divided into farms, and farms subdivided into fields, as of one immense field divided into gardens, and gardens laid out in beds. The various kinds of corn, and other crops, are sowed on f5 106 PISTOJA, PISTOJA. 107 ridges, or beds, of from two tofour feet wide. And really the ground ia ploughed or dug, and the crops are put in, with such an economy of room, and with such care and neatness, as are equalled only by what we see among^ the gardens about London. Some of our kitchen gardens may surpass, in this respect, the farms of the people of L«CCA ; but we have nothing properly called farming that is at all to be compared with the field-culture here displayed. The effect of this excellent cultivation is, that there is scarcely an instance of failure or any thing like patchiness in a crop ; and every crop that is above ground shows that it has wanted nothing that the art of raising it, and industry in the artist, could bestow. Every field, or plot of ground, is hemmed with a row of vines, the vines being supported by trees, or, as most of them here are, in the espalier form. Though this is called a plain, as compared with the neighbouring mountains, the land is not all flat : in some spots it is sufficiently hilly to be thrown into the form of shelves or terraces, which, as I before noticed, is done to preserve and make the most of the soil. The side of every hill is cultivated In this way. The shelves are mostly very narrow, about six feet wide ; and a row of vines stands along the out- ward edge of each shelf. The vines are pruned and trained with a nicety not to be rivalled. The planting of every stake, the cutting, the bending, the tying, of every branch, erery particular the most minute, shows that it has hnd its full share of scrupulous attention. Many of the fields do cot measure more than four or five square rods ; and you will sometimes see thirty or forty of them all adjoining one another, each being separately fenced in with vines trained to stakes or reeds. It would be hard to say whether it be the offerings of the god or those of the goddess, of Bacchus or of Ceres, that an here the most studiously solicited. What the quality of the wine is, I do not know ; but I dare say that some of the most luxuriant crops of corn in the world are those which are grown here. The soil, however, must be an ungrateful one, if it yield not the best of both ; and if the enjoyment of nature's two choicest fruits in equal abundance be any where the right of human industry, the laborious and ingenious cultivators of these campitelli, the pretty little fields of Lucca, may surely looV upon it as due to them. The people are all hard workers. The women work in the fields as much as the men. They assist in the preparing of the land, and in the sowing of the seed, as well as in the harvesting of the crops. The wheat, rye, and barley, are sowed in the most care- ful manner, and covered in by hand. Much Indian cora is grown here. I understand that they often get a croi^ of this, and another of wheat, off the same ground, in one season ; the wheat being cut in June, and the Indian corn sowed as soon as the other is carried. Kidney-beans, dwarfs and runners, are one of the things grown in the fields. These, I take it, are grown all over Italy, as they are in the south of France. The people eat them in their soup. The kidney bean, which they coWfagiuolo, is always mentioned in the price currents with the other 108 FLORENCE. sorts of grain, as are, also, some pease which are eatea in this country, called cece and pisello, — In the state of Lucca there is said to be a surplus population. The farms are very small. The labouring classes, I am told, are not well paid. The Lucchesi are given to wander away from their own country. A large part of the Ita- lians whom we see strolling about the streets and roads in England, with images, organs, and monkeys, are from this part of Italy, which, fertile and beautiful as it is, has something sufficiently intolerable in it to send many of its natives into voluntary exile. — The revenue of the government is nearly 74,000/. English money. 26th. Florence. — Delightful weather (66). — Much the same sort of country as what we saw yesterday, only that the land is not cultivated so closely and with such extraordinary care. The Apennines raise their heads on our left throughout the whole journey from Lucca in this direction. It is on the sides of these mountains, and on the land that slopes up to them from the plain, that the people of Lucca and of this part of Tuscany have their best vineyards and plantations of olives. The best sheep, also, are said to be those which are fed on the mountains near Pistoja. As you approach this city^ the system of farming is not a bit less creditable to the cultivators of the soil than is that of Lucca. The one is on a larger scale than the other, but there is a regu« larity and a richness that equally characterize both: the Florentine fields have the same pleasing appearances of fertility, though not the prettiness that distinguishes II FLORENCE. 109 those of the Lucchesi. A vineyard here, when not in the espalier form, resembles an English orchard. But, this comparison is unfair ; our orchards are unworthy qi it, for they are objects of far inferior beauty. The high vines are here trained to maples, which are planted in rows, at wide intervals. The branches of the tree are pretty closely cut ; they are not suffered to grow more than seven or eight feet from the main stem. The vine- shoots are twisted in twos (as represented in page 65) ; they are tied to the branches of the tree, all cut off at one length, four or five feet, and hang thus all round the tree, with their points straight downwards. We pass, to-day, through Prato and Cam pi. The former is a town of considerable size, with a papulation of 10,000 inhabitants, and is on the river Bisenzio. Campi, which is within about four miles of Florence, is a pretty little place, really what may be called pretty when compared with any other Italian town that I have seen. I could almost believe that it were an English country town. It is infinitely more clean than any place I have seen between this and the county of Kent, Almost the whole of the inhabitants of Campi are em- ployed in the manufacturing of straw hats, that kind which, in England, go by the name of " Leghorn^' Tuscany is not the only part of Italy in which this manu- facture is carried on. The same sort of hats is made, I hear, about Bologna. But the Tuscany hats are allowed to be by far the best. It is said that the annual profit derived by this state from its straw manufactory y 1 I 110 FLORENCE. bas been about 100,000 crowns. That is what the pro- fit used Jbrmerly to be ; for the trade is now compa- fatively very small. The Tuscany straw hat is, take it altogether, its material and its texture, one of the most beautiful of manufactures. The invention of it belongs to SiGNA, a place about seven miles from Florence. " Tu,SioNA industre, onor del Tosco Regno! ** Tu la prima il mostrasti : io de' miei carmi " Ora drizzando a' tuoi bei colli il volo, ** Del nobile arteficio addito i pregj." So says Signor Lastri, who has invoked the muse in a poem called " // Cappello di Paijlia,'' or. The Straw-Hat. This poet is more solidly useful than ge- niuses of his class are apt to be ; for he gives practical instructions about raising and preparing the material, and plaiting the straw and sewing the plaits together. The straw used is that of wheat. It is not, however, as has been supposed, one sort of wheat only that the hat-makers get the straw from. The sort commonly used is what we call spring 2f;/iea^, which the botanists call triticum cesti" VMW, and which is here called marzuolo. Though the Italian name of this wheat agrees with the English and the botanical, it is, I understand, generally sowed here'^iu the month of December, and not in the spring. There are two other sorts, both winter wheat, sowed for straw, a red and a white wheat, the one called calbigia rossa, and the other cascola bianca. The maruzolo, however, has been so much cultivated here for its straw, that the vulgar name for it is seyne di paglia, straw-seed. To I; FLORENCE. ffl bleach the straw, the Italians do nothing but expose it to the dew during the night, and then let it lie in the sun ; after which, a fumigating with sulphur gives it the requi- site brightness of colour. We arrived here this afternoon at a very interesting moment. We are at the hotel called the Nuova- York (New York); and, just as we got there, the carriages of the Royal Family were coming by, with the Grand Duke and his Duchess in full state, followed by a long train of carriages, through a crowd of what, I should think, exhibited the carnival in sufficient perfection. The street in which our hotel stands forms a part of what is called the " corso" or course ; and it seems that it is the custom in Italian cities to have 9.1 estab- lished corso ; that is, some particular line of streets, through which to drive during the fashionable hours of the day, or on state occasions. Perhaps there never was any thing more inconsistent than the simultaneous appearances, upon this occasion, made by the sovereign and his subjects; the one having so much majestic dig- nity, and the other so much of the farcical. The equi- page of the Grand Duke^ the carriages, horses, liveries, were all really grand and princely ; every thing about it was of a piece. The foot-passengers, of all degrees, were standing, walking, running, huddling about, in tho greatest confusion, and a large part of them wearing masks and dresses of the most outrageously ridiculous kinds. It seemed as if the assemblage at some mas- querade, to which men and women of all degrees might 112 FLOR£NC£. FLORENCE. 113 receive admittance, were all at once turned nto the street^ while the Grand Duke paraded along more like a man going to be crowned, than like a participator in such a fantastical exhibition. Among those who are strangers to such a scene as this, there are some people so sedate that they would regard the sight as a mere novel ab- surdity ; and it does not, to be sure, exactly correspond "with any kind of jollity known in our country. Yet, if there were nothing else to make one sympathise with these people in their carnival, there is one thing that ought to make us do so: there is such a display of thorough good humour in the thing, and to the preserv- ation of this, every soul seems to conspire with the ut- most possible heartiness. The joy and exultation of some of the people manifests itself in a manner perfectly boisterous : it is mirth worked up almost to a frenzy. All those of the common people that can afford it, get some sort of carriage to ride in, a cart, or wagon, or something or other on wheels. They stick up a parcel of large green branches of trees around the carriage; and, dressed themselves in ludicrous masquerade, all standing an end in the thing crammed full, brandishing boughs in the faces of other passengers whom they meet, they go roaring along like so many madmen. These people think so much of a ride during the time of the carnival, as I have been told, that a poor man and his family will half starve themselves for weeks beforehand, in order to have the means of gratifying their ambition "when the time for it comes. Towards the last days of the carnival, the thing naturally becomes more and more what an Irishman would call intense. There are two or three certain days on which the Grand Duke takes a public part in it, and this is one of them. The custom-houses in this country are a considerable annoyance to the traveller. You must either bribe, or submit your effects to pretty frequent overhalings. We were politely accosted by the officers of the custom-house as we entered the state of Lucca, and here, again, at the gate of Florence, the guardians of public revenue awaited our approach. They never insist on searching the luggage of English travellers, when we are prepared to give them something ; and the propriety of doing this they suggest to you in an insinuative but not offensive manner. It does not seem to be forbidden to them to receive an acknowledgment for their forbearance. The transaction takes place in the open street or on the high road. The man at the Florence gate remonstrated with me at the smallness of our offering, and civilly remarked^ ** E piccola cosa, Signore" But when I added just as much again, he looked on the sum total in his hand and graciously expressed his satisfaction : ** ilA, cosl va beneJ* 27th, — Cloudy day, with rain at night (61). — I do not like to say that I am disappointed on seeing Florence. Yet, after all we have read and heard about Florence, it would be impossible to come to the sight of this place without great expectations. As we were getting within the environs of the city, the view was 114 FLORENCE. certainly very gratifying. The extensive and fertile plaia along which our road lay ; the size of the city, the gran- deur of it as promised to the eye from a distance, its churches, and particularly the magnificent dome of its cathedral; the Apennine mountains, with their steep sides dressed in vineyards and olive-plantations, and by their immense height making every thing look little beneath them : one must be very fastidious^ to be sure, to find any thing wanting in such a landscape as this is. Nevertheless, the suburbs of Florence, the outward parts of the city, are deficient in one beauty with whicb I expected to see them distinguished. I had heard that this place was not so compact, that the houses were not 80 far all thrown in a heap, as in other cities. I ex-* pected to see grand or gay buildings, in great numbers, standing at distances apart all round the outside of thd city ; to see the paradise of a city extending, in all di« rections, towards the scenes of country life, and gradually losing itself amongst gardens, and vineyards, and groves of olives, and fields of corn. My itinerary is so glowing in its description of Florence, that it has recourse to the words of Ariosto, who says, that if the scattered palaces of this place were brought together within one wall, two Homes would not equal it : Se dentro a un mar, sotto an medesmo nome, Fusserraccolti i tuoi palagi sparsi, Non ti sarian da pareggiar due Rome. This description would induce one to look out for some- thing to be surprised at indeed. Florence, however. FLORENCE. 115 is closely encompassed with a high w^all ; and though here palagi sparsi may be numerous, we certainly did not see a marvellous number of them on our road hither. 28th. — Very cold clear wind (45). — We suffer much from the cold to-day, it is really severe. The moun- tains, at a short distance off, are now covered with snow, which is seen from Florence. The winters at Flo- rence have generally a good deal of this cold wind in them. We go this morning to see the Gallery of Fine Arts'. There was so much to see, that we could only take a mere glimpse of the whole. On our way, we passed through a large open place called Piazza M Gran Ducay which is close by the Gallery, and in which stands the old palace called Palazzo^Vecchio, built in 169^ and formerly the dwelling-place of the sovereigns of this state. The Piazza has some gigantic statues in it, by Michel Angelo and other artists. Among the rest is a celebrated colossal group by Giovanni di Bolog- na, representing a Roman striding over the body of the Sabine father whose daughter he is carrying off. This is a surprisingly beautiful thing. The Gallery contains one of the finest collections of paintings in the world ; and there are enough of them to give one entertainment without end. Here, also, among a vast quantity of sculpture both ancient and modern, is the far-famed Venus de* Medici. The Venus stoops a little; bat sup- posing her to be standing erect, she is, I believe, a trifle 116 PLORENCE. FLORENCE. 117 more than five English feet in height. We were struck, on first entering the Gallery, with some antique busts, supposed to be those of some of the Roman emperors and their wives. These busts are most admirable. One of them represents a chubby-cheeked little boy : it is so like life, that you might stand all day long wondering at and admiring it. The Venus de* Medici was discovered, they say, somewhere near Rome. Her distinguishing name " de' Medici," of the Medici, was given to this statue on account of its having belonged to the family of that name, who conferred it on the public. The statue was broken in many pieces when found; some parts of it were entirely lost, and have been supplied, as well as they could be, by the hands of modern art. The attitude of this figure is graceful beyond any thing ; its symmetry, and the singular combination of beauty and simplicity that there is in it, account to you, on the first glance, for all that has been said of the " Venus de* Medici" There is no such thing as justly describing the fine things that we have seen to-day. The mind that would know what they are like, must be present wiA the eye to see them. Art has here brought fiction so near upon the verge of reality, that the line between them is too nice to be drawn by words. You must either fall far short of the truth, or go far beyond its limits: what you say must be too feeble to give any idea of what 15, or it must be so strong as to represent what is impos* sible ; you must be contented to fail in attempting to make people imagine how nearly pieces of stone may resemble living things ; or, you must be " a traveller ^ in good earnest, and tell them that you have seen marble that was alive, March. 1 rs^— Very cold wind (46). — The Arno runs through Florence just as it does through Pisa. The river divides about one-third part of the city from the rest of it. Here, as at Pisa, they have a " Lung* Arno" a fine broad drive or promenade, extending throughout the city on both sides of the river. This day is really what we call hitter cold. But it 28 not cold enough to keep the enjoyers of the carnival at home. The whole length of the north side of the Lung* Arno has been crowded for several hours during the day. Great numbers of country people in the throng. The people from the country are all nicely dressed, very much like those that we saw at Pisa. Most of the women wear round straw hats with bows of ribbons, op broad-brimmed beaver hats with black feathers in them. The beaver hat is not at all becoming, and has a mascu- line appearance; it puts one in mind of the Welsh women. The country women almost all wear pearl neck- laces, and enormous ear-rings studded with pearls. These ornaments are a great matter of pride with the Tuscan peasantry. It is customary with the country men, when they get married, to make their brides a pre- sent of a necklace and ear-rings of peari. The pearls are generally of inferior quality ; but the quantity of them 118 FLORENCE. TLORENCE* 119 worn by one woman is so great, that the whole set often tyfttn from twelve to fifteen English pounds. — The people here do not appear to us so good-looking as those we saw about Genoa. Some of the country girls, however, are very handsome, and we noticed more pretty faces in pass- ing through Campi than we have seen any where else at one time. The women of this country have seldom that delicacy of form for which so many of our country women are admired. The little hand, with taper fingers, and knuckles hardly to be seen ; the small round wrist, from which the arm imperceptibly swells in soft conti- nuation to the elbow ; this kind of charm, which is found even among those who do hard work in England, does not belong to the women of Tuscany. Their figures are much more sturdy than elegant. But, they are beautiful nevertheless. They have fine brown complexions, glossy black hair parted over clear foreheads, and large eyes which are as mild in their expression as they are dark in iheir colour. I have never been among a people so orderly as the Italians. They are now in the full enjoyment of the carnival ; but you hear no brawling, see no drunkenness in the streets, and it would seem that nothing of this kind is to be witnessed here. , 2nd. — Cold and rain (50). 3rd.^StiU disagreeable cold weather (50).— This is the last day of the carnival. This evening there is a masquerade ball at the 'pergola y the principal theatre in Florence, to which people of all classes go. 4M.— -Very fine day, but chilly (60). — Go to see JFiESOLE. This is a very ancient place, a place of freat consequence during the times of the Romans; flow hardly more than a mere village. It is one of the objects of curiosity in the neighbourhood of Flo- rence, and is situated on an immense mountain of the Apennines, at about three miles without the walls of this city. Our carriage could go only two-thirds of the road, the rest of the way being so steep that we had to walk it. From Fie sole you have a splendid view of Florence and the surrounding mountains, and the plain beneath them. At the place where the carriage lias to stop, there is a church, and, just by, an old con- vent, formerly inhabited by monks of the order of St. Dominick. A little further up is a place called La Doccia, also formerly a monastery, and built by Michel Angelo. At a few hundred yards higher you come to Fiesole, where there is an old cathedral, built about eight hundred years ago. Fiesole is not quite on the most elevated part of the mountain ; but the winding road still leads you on ; and you come to another habita- tion of austere life, a convent now occupied by some Franciscan Friars. The mountain of Fiesole affords a beautiful prospect in every way. When you are upon it, its gardens and vineyards, its olive-trees, its country houses, are delightful objects on near approach; and the height of the mountain gives you such a view over Florence, and of all the charming scenery that sur- rounds it, as is, I ehotild think, hardly to be equalled any I 1 '■' FLORENCE. where else in the world. To look at it from a distance, too, FiESOLE is the finest object in the neighbourhood. The whole of the mountain's side, consisting of steep fields or gardens, or land in the terrace shape, is richly cultivated. The old church, San Romolo, stands in a most conspicuous situation, and the lofty tower, which seems, at a distance, to raise its head among the regions of the blue sky, surmounts all, and gives a finish to this rare landscape. Beautiful as the neighbourhood of Florence now is, we do not, of course, at this time, see it in any thing like its brightest array. But, what must it not be in two months hence? To witness the present, and not to anticipate something, at least, of the future, is to be more unmoved to imagine than the sight of such fine scenery will allow. 5th.—Co\d. cloudy day, with intervals of sunshine (51).— The weather is now such as we had no idea of the Florentines having to bear. It is a searching, snowy cold. Florence, I hear, is both cold in winter and hot in summer. I should suppose that the sun must have great effect herC; on account of the situation of the city ; for it is, in great part, encircled by the mountains, and there is so much high land around it, that, if we may use so ugly an expression in speaking of a place with so little ugliness about it, Florence may be said to stand in a hole. ^th, — Fair ; but a cold wind {55). 7M. — Fine day ; warmer (61). € the Madonna della Seggiola of Raphael, so called from the chair in which the Virgin is sitting ; and the Madonna of another artist, which has the surname of del Sacco, supposed to have been given to the picture because the painter sold it for a sack of corn. 21rs^ — Same weather (68). 22wrf.— Cloudy (65).— The tulip-tree, which flourishes here, is now coming into leaf. The grass is green j and the rye and wheat and clover are growing up fast. 23r(i.— Rain (60). 24^^.— Fair and warm (64). - Many fine churches in Florence. The principal ones are, Santa Maria del Fiore (the cathedral), Santa Croce, San Lorenzo, Santo Spirito, San Marco, Santa Maria Maddalena, One of them, Santa Maria Novella, is that which Boccac- cio has celebrated in his account of the plague at Florence. Santa Croce contains both the monumenU and ashes of many famous men; the remains of Michei. Angelo, Galilei, Macchiavelli, and Alfieri, 132 YLOEENCE* fLORENCE* 133 %i r«i are deposited here. The persecution of Galilei by the Church is generally supposed to have been as severe as his scientific discoveries were important. But from the account which he himself gives of the treatment he met with^ we may wonder how it should have been so much talked of. The church of San Lorenzo is very an- cient ; and adjoining it is a large chapel, octangular in lorm, and surmounted by a cupola. This is called Cap^ jpella de* Medici^ the chapel of the Medici ; and in the chapel are most splendid tombs of some of the members of that family. It is more than two hundred years since the Cappella de* Medici was begun. The place is in a great litter now, as there are workmen employed in it ; and there is a scaffold now standing for the painter who is embellishing the ceiling by means of bis art. This chapel will, when finished, be truly magn'ficent; it is so, indeed, already. The sums of money expended on such a thing must be immense. The most costly marbles are the least costly of the materials employed. Here are incrustations of calcedonius, jasper, agate, and other precious stones, wrought in the finest manner possible.— The Cathedral stands nearly in the centre of the city. Just by it stand a tower and a baptistery. These are all marble ; that is to say, on the outside. The size of the cathedral is very great. It is, in proportion to its size, the least decorated, on the inside, of any church we have seen in Italy. The dome of this building is much larger than that of our St. Paul's. It is said to be equal in its diameter to the dome of St. Peter's at Rome, only that this is an octagon, and St. Peter's is circular. The tower, or belfry, is square ; it is nearly a hundred yards in height, and is the most elegant and light-looking thing that can be conceived. There is a mixture of white, red, and black marble in these buildings, which gives them a peculiar effect. At the baptistery there are some bronze doors, on the exterior of which are figures in relief, representing various incidents of history from the Scriptures. These doors are objects of great interest, as it was said of them by Michel Angelo that their beauty made them worthy to be the gates of Paradise. ^5th, — Showers and sunshine at intervals : hard raia at night (63).— This a great holyday, Lady-day. High mass was performed with great pomp, this morning, at the church of Santa Annunziaia. The royal family all went there and returned in full procession. While they were in church, the royal family sat under a canopy, or tent rather, open on the side facing the altar. The four corners of the tent were guarded by four officers in regi- mentals, with broad-swords drawn and plumed cocked- hats on their heads. There were a good many soldiers in the church, who kept their heads covered all the while. The ceremony was a mixture of the sacred and the mili- tary. It was what is called a military mass. There were the priests chanting at the altar ; and the soldiers, who bore their arms, grounded them when they knelt, the butts of their muskets making a great rattle agabst the stone floor of the church. It did not look well to see the soldiers all keeping their heads covered. They could not, I 134 FLORENCE, TLORENCI^ 134» in such a place, be said to be on duty ; unless, indeed, the church had been besieged. Among the musicians there were several red-coated performers, and these blew trumpets and beat drums, which took the loudest parts in the concert The blasts of war prevailed over the se- raphic sounds of peace ; it seemed as if the musical sons of Mars were putting the choir of St. Cecilia to a com- plete rout. Peach-trees and plum-trees are now in blossom. The fig-trees are budding. Broad-beans and horse-beans in blossom. Plenty of lettuces, radishes, onions, cauli* flowers, and some other vegetables, now in the market. 26M.— Rain and shine by turns (64). — Very mild spring-like weather. There is a fair now going on in Florence, which lasts three days. It consists of almost every thing excepting live-stock. It is a much more sober and quiet affair than such a thing with us is ; rather a market than ^fair. 27th. — Very fine day {65). — One very useful produc- tion of the soil of this country is a sort of reed, or cane, which they have here, and which grows also in the warmer parts of France. It is used in vine-training, in which it does so much that the people would hardly know how to manage without it. The Italians make a lattice-work fence of it, which is exceedingly neat and well adapted for gardens ; and the saving that it causes, both of timber and labour, must be very great. This plant is the arundo donaxy and the vulgar name for it b«re is canna^ I hear that it is seldom known to bear Hpe seed in this country, not above once in ten or fifteen years. The farmers grow it, however, from offsets (which they call occhi or uovoli)^ and by* this mode of propagating it a plantation is easily obtained. The canna must have been used in just the same way that it is at this day ever since the earliest times; Pliny speaks of the arundo as being applied to the vine-train- ing in his time. This was, no doubt, the material with which the shepherds made their musical instrument, the calamus agrestiSy or Pandean-pipe, so frequently men^ tioned by the ancient poets ; but I do not see that the shepherds of this day have any such instrument ; and with the same tube through which their forefathers are said to have breathed their rustic notes, the refined mo- derns inhale the fumes of tobacco. A bit of the carina^ stuck into an earthenware bowl, makes the common tobacco-pipe of the country. 28^A.— Very fine (65).— Some say that this spring is rather backward for this part of Italy. The Florentines boast some fine libraries, and some scientific institutions. The most curious thing that they have in the literary way is what is called VAccademia della Crusca. There can be no more than a certain number of persons admitted as members of this institu- tion. There are, I think, about twenty-five in all. It is a little junto composed of such learned men as are supposed to be the most eminently qualified to preserve, by their decisions, the purity of the Italian language* The society has existed for a great many years ; and 136 TLORKKCE. 9L0&EKCE. 137 f| a dictionary which is remarkable for its bulk, and called Delia CruscUf has emanated from this source. The words della crusca mean of bran, crusca being the Italian for bran ; and these academicians have conferred on their own society the title of Della Ci'usca, meaning thereby, in a figurative sense, that they separate the bran from the flour, and so refine the language. No* thing is considered as pure Italian that is not to be found in their long list of well-bolted parts of speech, called ** Vocabolario della Crusca" which is supposed to contain every farinaceous particle of the language. I will not pretend to judge how far the influence of such a notion is beneficial or pernicious. But there can be no doubt, that over-scrupulously criticising and refining grammarians have done not a little mischief wherever they have had their way. Witness the French. They, tooy have their " Academie ;'' and they excel all the world in the study of phraseology. Their language, consequently, has got to be formal beyond every other, comparatively poor, and replete with bombast. And how inferior is the language of Italy at this day, to what it was four hundred, or even three or two hundred years ago ! The chamber in which the Academy hold their meetings, and which we saw to-day, is a sight really amusing. In the centre of a long table clothed in green there is a little urn, with some black and some white beans, which are used to ballot the pros and cons of the cniscan doctors, when a word is proposed to be admitted in their vocabulary. All the furniture of the apartment is made typical, as far as possible, of the business of bolting. Around the walls are hung little frames containing quaint allegorical pictures, the insignia of those who are, or who have been, members of the Academy. Over the mantle-piece is the miniature of a dressing- machine. The chairs are made in imitation of a Florentine baker's basket turned bottom-side uppermost ; and the back of the chair is precisely a wooden com- scoop, the handle of this being stuck into the seat, and the shovelling end to lean against. 29^^.— Very wet day (60). dOth. — Wet morning and fair afternoon (60). — Tug- cany produces very good wine. Its pWcc is, of course, according to its quality. The common win< , which we should not think worthy of the name of wine at all, is exceedingly cheap ; cheaper than our public-house beer in England. Much of this is hard; but the labouring people here, like the cider drinkers in England, do not regard sweetness as necessary to their beverage. The best wines are chianti, aliatico, vin santo, and monte- pulciano, Montepulciano is the name of a mountainous neighbourhood in Tuscany, about fifty miles south of Florence, and the wine is so called after this spot, where the vines that produce it are grown. Redi says that the Montepulciano is the king of wines. It is a very fine wine; something like Burgundy. But it has its peculiar flavour, as every kind of wine has. How are we to account for the innumerable varieties of flavour, which are so many charms to the palate in wine ? It is ns FLORENCE. FLORENCE* 139 !I ii) not climate, altogether, that causes this ; for I dare say diere are thirty or forty different parts of this state, the vineyards of which produce vines having as many dif- ferent tastes. Is it the soil then ; or is it not, perhaps, tliat the vines, in the different spots, have been originally propagated from seed, as iiith our gooseberries in England ? The chianti is what may be called the best ordinary wine about Florence ; tlie aliatico is delight- fully sweet; the vin santo is a very nice sort of small Madeira. The colour of some of the red wine here is most beautiful. It is not rerf, in fact, at all ; it is a deep purple y clear, and having as many shades of hue as there are lights to hold the glass in. This is what we never see in perfection iu the wine that is brought to England. We call red wine the " -purple juice of the grape ; " that is, when we talk as poets do, about things that are too good to be come-at-able. The saying has easily found its way into our language : not so easily the genuine " purple juice " into our mouths. No drink can be so wholesome and agreeable as the moderately strong wine that people have in the countries of the vine. This it was, the very juice of the grape, which Paul was recommending to Timothy, *^ for his stomach's sake and for his infirmities.** 31 rs/. — Steady rain all day (57). April. Iryf.— Rainy morning: and fine towards evening (63). A hail-storm to*day, and thunder at night. 27id.— Wet morning 3 but it clears up in the afternoon (62). — Take a walk this afternoon to Mont* OlivetO (Olive-grove Hill). This is about as far from the walls of the city as Bellosguardo is, and is on the same range of high land. On MonV Oliveto there is a convent, now inhabited by some friars, thrifty and gentlemanly- looking men, who are all dressed in long white gowns and old-fashioned hats with broad looped brims. The convent is a very large house, with a church of some size attached to it. There is a large garden and orchard, with olives and vines. It is a delightful, tran- quil spot. From a little knoll of ground, planted with cypress-trees, the friars have one of the finest views of Florence and the neighbourhood. The place is by DO means so much beautified as it might b^. Its inha- bitants do not seem to take much pains with it, though they have, I understand, the means for doing so. What would some rich Englishmen not give for a situation like that of Mont* Oliveto ! ^rd, — Fine warm day (64). — There exists in Flo- rence, and in the other towns of this state, a charitable institution, which, if it were everywhere known, would have praises pronounced and blessings invoked upon it by every tongue in Christendom. It is a confraternity, the persons composing which are called ** / Frati della Misericordia** or. The Brotherhood of Mercy. The thing is one of such interest, that I wish I could give a full account of it to all the people of England. I saw something of the Frati at Pisa : but here I have been quite delighted by what a countryman of mine has told li 140 ILORENCE. FLORENCE. 141 H 'J :| . ;i me about them. They are numerous in all the Tuscao cities. They render the same assistance to people of all religions. Persons of all degrees may belong to the Brotherhood ; the present Grand Duke is one of them ; and Leopold I. is said to have put on the dress, and taken his part in the active duties, of this incomparable association. When any thing occurs to call for their united aid, a large bell tolls, and a man or a boy, attired in their peculiar dress, goes through the streets ringing a bell, to call all together. The call is imperative : no mat- ter what the brother may be about, he must, if he be bodily able, instantly obey it. The garb of the Brother- hood is most striking, not to say somewhat frightful even. If you knew beforehand the pious nature of their occu- pation, you could not help being a good deal startled at the first sight of them when in the pursuit of it. They are covered all over, from head to foot, with a coarse and jet-black linen stuff. A large broad-brimmed hat, which is put on only when the weather is inclement, generally hangs over the shoulder, and a black rosary is tied to the girdle, or carried in the hand. You see their feet only ; and there are two small peep-holes for the eyes. This prevents any individual from being recog- nised ; and, consequently, allows no ostentation, or gra- tification of vanity. When on duty, they never speak but in a low voice, so that nobody knows the person by his tongue. I shall never forget the mirth I gave rise to in an excellent friend of mine one day at Pisa, when I went to open our door at the knock of one of these gen- tlemen. Some of the Brotherhood are constantly going about to collect money for the poor. They always go in full dress. Our visitor came quite unexpectedly, and we had not happened to see such a person before. The instant the door was opened, I was saluted by the rat- tling of coppers in a small charity -box, which the sable Brother thrust up close to my face. I could not, at the moment, resist the impulse of apprehension; and my friend, who saw me jump back in amazement, had to come forward before he could know the cause of it; the tall black figure and the glaring eyes of this spirit of grace, whom I had almost concluded to be a goblia damned. I copy the following passage from a most inter- esting historical description of the Brotherhood, of which my English informant is the writer. — " Those who con- ** tend that we excel our forefathers in humanity and " charity, will be surprised to hear that the Compagnia ** della Misericordiay the most conspicuous, even in the ** present day, for those virtues, has existed for nearly " six hundred years within the walls of Florence. It " was established in 1240 ; and its origin was extremely ** curious. At thfiLt period of the Republic, when the *' citizens were acquiring immense profits from the ma- ** nufacture of woollen cloth, the city-porters were nume- " rous, and usually took their stand round the church of the Baptistery, near the cathedral. In fact, for the most part they lived there ; and during the intervals " of work, they ate their meals and drank their wine, or played at various games, either on the Piazza, or ia <( « ti f 142 PLORENCB. FLORENCE. 143 tt « *< the sheds erected for their accommodation. One ** among them, Piero di Luca Borsi, an old and de- vout man, was highly scandalized at the cursing and ST^earing of his companions. Therefore, as their elder, ** he proposed that he who should hereafter take God's ** or the Virgin's name in vain, should be mulcted to the ** amount of a crazia (three farthings) ; and that the ** said crazia should be dropped through a small hole " into a certain box, so that an end might be put to *' such vain and sinful conversation. To this the porters " agreed, and the difficulty of conquering a bad habit " caused the box to be well nigh filled. Piero then " reminded them that, for the benefit of their souls, •* the contents of the box ought to be employed in " acts of charity, and made the following proposal. ** Let ws, said he, purchase with part of this money " six litter Sy to serve for the six divisions of the city^ " and let us in turns attend with them. Thus we " shall be in readiness to carry to their houses, or to ** the hospitaly all those who may be taken with sud» ** den illness, or who fall from a scaffolding, or other^ " wise be grievously injured in our streets, and stand " in need of their fellow-creatures" assistance ; and ** we will also carry to the churches the bodies of such " as may fall down dead, or be slain, or be drowned* « and let us agree that for each several journey of " this sort the porter is to receive a giulio (six- ** pence) /row the box. This not only met with appro- ** bfiiion> but each individual took an oath to obserre it. « << « Their labours began, and they pursued them with so much diligence and charity (says their chronicler) that every man in the city greatly applauded these porters, sometimes offering them three giuli, as a present, for a " single journey ; but this the old man, Piero, would " not allow, bidding them perform their duty, cheerfully " and without bribes, and to wait for their further re^ " ward in eternity. Such was the commencement of " the MisericordiaJ* The heroic conduct of these men, during the plague, and the prevalence of other malignant disorders in Florence, has been remarkable ; and it is singular also that they themselves, always facing death in its most appalling forms, have very seldom been among the victims of infection. Kings, and emperors, and popes, have endeavoured to establish the same kind of thing in other countries. Buonaparte wanted to have it in Paris. But it appears that Piero's plant is like the phoenix ; and that, first rooted in the soil of this spot, and here alone, it is not to be propagated, or cannot be made to flourish, in that of other countries. In what reverence the Misericordia is held by everybody here, may be easily imagined. A body of men, whose conduct exhibits such an example of indefatigable perseverance, such a disinterested and affecting constancy in the most pious pursuit, cannot fail to enjoy a kind of glory as rare as is the virtue of which it is the reward. Thus, says the writer I have been quoting, in concluding his detail, " there are no anniversary dinners, no toasts and sen- " timents with * three times three,' no blazing accounts \* '.'• !)-'♦ \t ■|r:!: P' 144 FLORENCE. « in the newspapers of their activity, heroism, and cha- « rity. All goes on quietly, modestly. The brothers « know how much they are beloved, and are content « without a display of their influence. Every mark of << respect is, however, paid to them: the military present « arms, and individuals take oflf their hats, whenever " they pass along the streets." 4^/i.— .Showers (59).— The Tuscans have one breed among their horses that deserves notice. They have a sort of carriage-horse that is very good. It is of mid- dling size, stout, handsomely shaped, entirely black, and with mane and tail left flowing at full length. A pretty active little horse in harness. I know a gentleman here who has two choice horses of this breed, and he tells me that the pair cost him not more than about thirty-seven guineas of our money. This list of prices, of various articles in Florence, is a copy from one made, and with great attention to correctness, by an Englishman resident here. The list was made out in the year 1826, for the special informa- tion of friends in England. But prices here have varied 80 little, that this list applies equally well to the present year. I am assured so by the person to whom I am obliged for it He is a housekeeper himself, and happens , to be about as well informed on such matters as it is possible to be. Bread, Common, per lb 1 J^. Do. Good, do 1|^- Do. Best,do H^- FLORENCE. Beef, per lb ^rr^* Mutton, do 5d. Veal,do.. S^d, Lamb, do 4|c?. Pork,do 4ld. Hams (cured), do lOld, Cheese, Best do , , , 12M. Do. Parmesan do ^^id. Butter, Kitchen do... 10 fd. Do. Best do.. ...,^, I4d. Oil (Olive), per quart I Id. Vinegar, do 2^d. Fish, per lb 7|-d to lltf. Milk, per quart 2icf. Cream, per lb 9^. Tea, Green, do 7s. Ud. Do. Black, do 6s. 4d. Coffee, do \s, 91^, Sugar, Raw, do 6cf. Do. Common Loaf do.... Sef. Do. Refined, do. • ,, \0^d. Do. Superfine, do Yld, I^ice, do 22cf. Salt, do 2rf. Macaroni, Vermicelli, &c. do. . . . 3f 156 ACQUA-PENDENTE. now falling into ruin, may be seen from a great distance. Radicofani, the ascent and descent of which make, to- gether, about eleven or twelve miles, is the most desolate mountain I have ever seen. It is almost altogether un- cultivated, and the land very poor. Large stones lie about, which, they say, have been thrown up by volcanic eruptions. This mountain is now frequently visited with quakings. The view from the top of Radicofani, along with the scenery immediately around, gives one a mixed idea of grandeur and dreariness. Immense pieces of loose broken rock lie in all directions on the surface of the ground ; and the land all around has the appearance of having been torn out of its natural shape by some arti- ficial force. You might imagine this spot the scene of action of Milton's battle between the spirits of heaven and hell, in which the contending parties are represented handling mountains as missiles, and throwing them at one another's heads as boys do stones. At Radicofani is the last station of police, and of the custom-house for Tuscany. Soon after leaving Radico- fani, we came into the Roman territory, and then, at a short distance further on, had to stop at Pontecentino, which is no town, but only the place at which the pope's custom-house officers and policemen begin to have to do with you. Acqua-Pendentey^\iGT% we put up for to- night, is romantically situated, and looks very well at a distance. It is a small town, and, apparently, getting smaller daily. This place is called Acqua'Pendente^ from it§ standing on the brink of a precipice of rock, at the foot ACQUA-PENDENTE. 157 of which there is a torrent of water ; so that the town does, as it were, overhang the water. I have never seen so nasty a place as A cqua- Pendente. The greater part of the houses appear to be very old, and the streets are narrow and crooked. The place is miserable, filthy, most gloomy in the impression it makes upon you. I cannot help supposing that there is some horrid epidemic prevail- ing, to give all the people the one wretched look that their faces wear. Perhaps this may be partly fancy, and their faces may express less sadness than belongs to my reflections. However, if there be any joy here, I am at a loss to imagine from what it can arise. The people look poverty-stricken ; they are, too, extremely negligent and dirty in their dress; and the habit of being thus, makes them appear still worse off than they are. There is one thing about the women which is the worst of all : they have large spots on their heads that are quite bare, and the hair that has not fallen off has evidently less pains bestowed upon it than what an En- glish carter would bestow on the tails of his team. But we expected to be a little horrified on this road ; the country is noted for its want of comfort and its filth. The inns on this road have not much accommodation in them. Even at Siena, where we put up at the best inn, it was a dirty place, and we were not well attended to, though the people were not uncivil. There is, too, along here, an absolute scarcity of food; a serious thing for travellers. We arrived at Acqua- Pendente at an early hour to-day ; and the soup, with which they intro^ 158 ACQUA-PENDENTE. ACQUA-PENDEXTE. 159 duced ug to our dinner, was, to be sure, the mogt abomi- Bable mess of greasy hot water that could have been made. There was no danger of its offending the palate : if the eye had not forbidden to taste, the nose must. Our inn is like other inns of a second-rate sort that we have before been obliged to put up with, and here there is but one inn of any sort. The ground floor consists of the car- riage or cart-house and the stable for the horses, the latter of which apartments so far communicates, through a door- way, with the upper part of the house, that the rooms we occupy, which are just over the stable and opening into the kitchen, are not ventilated in the most delightful manner. There is an old man who does all the cooking. Excepting the difference of sex, he puts me in mind of Dame Leonarda, in Gil Bias. He wears an old night-cap, and looks pompous in his occupation. I stood by and saw him prepare the repast of some hungry gentlemen from England, who stopped to bait here to-day. The meat itself, the way in which he handled it, and the place in which the act of cookery was going on, were each of themselves enough to say avaunt to the stoutest appetite. What, good heavens, would some English housewives, some of the wives of English labourers even, think of such a place as this ? There is an elderly lady of my acquaint- ance, a Suffolk farmer's widow, who would, 1 do believe, be fairly killed by it. She is strong in health, but most fastidiously clean, even for an English woman ; and to answer for her life in this house, for a few days, would positiTely he a hazardous insurance. Every one must remark how different the condition of the female sex is here from what it is with us. I am not sufficiently travelled in our own United Kingdom to be able to compare ali parts of it with this country ; and perhaps the women in some parts of Scotland, and those in Ireland, may enjoy not more, if not less of heaven in this world, than these Italians do. I am speaking, of course, of labouring people. The whole personal appear- ance of the working women here, denotes their hax-ing to perform a large portion of the most irksome labour. Their countenances are more grave than those of the men ; it is an expression of habitual resignation to suffering. They do not seem as if they were cheerful in adversity ; their looks are rather painfully patient. There is a hardiness about them that is any thing but agreeable, because they do not, at the same time, seem equal to the trials that re- quire it. The woman who waits upon us (a maid of all work, as we call it) is an instance. One would think, to see her, that hope had never shed one ray of encourage- naent for her in this life, and the expression of her fea- tures is but a recital of human cares. The poor thing is subject to fits. I saw her this evening with one of them upon her. She was in strong convulsions, and kept oa saying. Oh Dio ! Signore ! (Oh God ! Oh Lord !) Yet, in a few minutes afterwards she was on her legs again, and went off with tottering steps to make our beds. There was only time for her to go up stairs for a load of bed-clothing. Down she came with it oa her shoulder. liriiiKglU^^^y^^^ liAaUflUMM 160 VITERBO, VITERBO. 161 trudging along as if nothing more than common had been the matter with her ; and one of the sheets happening to fall off her shoulder on the stone steps, she exclaimed, in a voice of revived strength. Ah, diavolo ! (Ah, the devil!) I4th. ViTERBO. — A beautiful clear day (64). Be- tween Acqua-Pendente and this place we came through San Lorenzo, Bolsena, and Monte^Fiascone, . This has been by far our most pleasant day's ride from Florence. San-Lorenzo-nuovo (new Saint Lawrence) is not a great way from Acqua-Pendente, and the land lying between these two is fertile. The former is a small place, just on the summit of a hill, at which the traveller's eye is suddenly struck with a new and extensive view, that of the beautiful lake of Bolsena. We had to make a long descent towards the lake, to the edge of which our road brought us. Just as we came to the lake, we passed though the ruins of what was formerly the town of San- Lorenzo. These ruins, situated as they are, are ex- ceedingly romantic. There is a little spot of flat land at the bottom of the hill, where the ruins are ; and a slow stream, or soak of water from the hill, has made an un- healthy piece of marsh, on account of which the ancient town was abandoned by its inhabitants, who removed to the top of the hill. Here are grottos and caves made in the sides of the rocks, and amongst the ruins, fine trees of oak and walnut, a pretty little daisy-spangled meadow, and a full view of the lake. This spot has been the choice station of handilti : a most advantageous post for them. You can hardly pass the place, without the thought of such people coming into your head. Our driver, how- ever, anticipated us ; for he had begun to talk of the subject some time before appearances were such as to give credit to liis fearful anecdotes of murder. By all accounts there has been many a bloody deed done among the ruins of the old town ; and though the road has lat- terly become nearly or quite free from robbers, the Italians still tremble to pass by this spot at night : the conscientious postilion never approaches, without begin- ning to hope to be forgiven for his sins, saying his prayers, crossing his breast, and devoutly laying the lash on the backs of his horses. From the ruins the road runs alongside of the lake; and, at a short distance on, there is the little town of Bolsena, just off the road to the left ; a small old place, with a tower ; an inviting object for the painter. Bolsena is said to stand on the site of the ancient Volsinium, one of the cities of the Etrurians ; and the ancient name of the lake is Lacus Vulsinus. There are two little islands in the lake, which are inhabited ; and the cir- cumference of this lake, a fine sheet of clear water, is more than thirty miles. Monte-Fiascone stands on a very lofty peak : as soon as you catch sight of the lake, this place is the most prominent among the objects around it. We coasted the lake nearly all the way from Bolsena to Monte-Fiascone. Immediately on the borders of the lake are fertile fields, with corn, and some olives, and good vineyards. At a little distance from the water the 162 VITERBO. rocky high land rises all around, dressed in woods of not very fine oak timber, the sticks of which, when the people wish to clear the ground for cultivation, are disposed of by setting them on fire. Monte- Fiascone, stuck right on the tip of a mound of purely volcanic substance, a sort of crumbling porous stone, is a small old place closely hemmed in with a wall, the only entrances to which are through two strong gate- ways. It is just one of those Italian towns that are the most peculiarly unlike any thing in England. Defence, no doubt, has been the principal motive for building so many towns, as there are in this country, on the very points of mountainous ground. However, there seems to have been such a propensity in the people to soar, to have their nests in the air, that one might almost suppose they formerly had some other means, besides those of their legs, of mounting and descending rugged heights ; that they were like eagles, gifted with wings to fly, as well as feet to walk. On one side of the town, to- wards the lake, you look down over the lake, as from a balcony. There is a deep and nearly perpendi- cular precipice, commencing very near the town's wall, and from the foot of this steep, a wide and gradually- sloping plain sweeps for a mile and a half down to the margin of the lake. The landscape is most delightful : it is one of the beauty-spots on the face of this beautiful country. You look so completely down upon every thing in the plain, that no one object intervenes to exclude another ; and all is seen so far at a distance, that the eye yiTERBO. 163 includes the whole at one glance ; nothing strikes you as gross, but every thing is in pleasing miniature ; fields of various colours, trees, rows of olives, vineyards, all blended together like so many figures of varii)us tints upon a handsome carpet. — This country is very curious to the naturalists, particularly those who take interest in vol- canic phenomena. Monte- Fiascone is famous for the produce of a very nice muscadel wine, which is white, and much resembles the best English perry. We put up at a small inn, at the road's side, to bait, and taste it. It sells for about a shilling the bottle ; which is dear ; but then we are travellers, and the wine is an object of curiosity, on account of a fact (said to be), which is as follows. A German Bishop was going this road to Rome, many years ago. He, not unlike many other bishops, was fond of wine. And, in order to know at what places the wine was such as to be worthy of his good taste, he sent his courier on a-head, telling him that wherever there wa$ wine worth drinking to write up " Est " (There is). At Monte- Fiascone the courier found the wine so very good, that he wrote " Est " three times over, by way of admiration. The Bishop, it is said, on coming up, so far confirmed his courier's opinion of the wine, that he drank of it till he died. On the sign -board of the inn where the traveller stops, the fatal recommendation of the courier ia still quoted ; and on the tomb-stone of his master ,who was buried in a church hard by, the following droll epitaph ia engraved. 164 VITERBO. « Est, Est, Est :" Et propter nimiuu "Est," MoRTuus Est. The people of the place were accustomed, for years after- wards, to solemnize the anniversary of his death by pouring a whole cask of their wine over the grave. The wine-growers, no doubt, regarded the prelate as a sort of patron saint. But the Pope has since interdicted the custom as being indecorous ; and what used to be offered as a libation over the remains of the martyr, is now an- nually drunk to his memory. — Excellent vine-training at Monte- Fiascone. While we were walking about at Monte- Fiascone we cTianced to meet a priest, of whom we began to make in- quiries. But as soon as he knew what part of the world we were from, he had too much to say in admiration of our country to tell us much about his own. "ilA, che " bel paese, chepaese stupendo quelV Inghilterra ! che " lihertd, ! eh ? E quel huon re ! * * * * Quanta " siete da invidiare voi altrilnglesi !" (Ah what a fine country, what a prodigious country that England ! What freedom ! eh? *'And that good king » * * * * How much are you English people to be envied !) This was perfectly sincere ^ too ; for almost every soul here that has ever heard of England talks in just the same way about it. It is not that they think themselves unhappy. The priest did not mean so. But they have all a notion of the greatness of England which is little short of ro- mance. They seem to suppose, that our country is under VITERBO. 165 the influence of some liherty-charm, of which no other country is even capable of enjoying the blessing. There is less show of live-stock between this and Flo- rence than I have seen any where before. About Monte-Fiascone, however, there are great droves of black pigs, which are fed on the acorns in the woods of oak. From Monte- Fiascone we came down into a large plain, on the opposite side of which Viterho was in sight, at about ten miles off, standing at the foot of another moun- tain. The plain is a great piece of poor down land, growing nothing but grass, and that very coarse. Here were some flocks of sheep, with white long-haired goats amongst them. The sheep were all bad, and the goats all handsome. The sheep-fold here is a net, like a fisher- man's net, only made of stronger materials, and with wider meshes. The shepherds, attended by strong dogs, are dressed in the skins of the sheep and goats, the wool or hair being left on the outer side of the garment. The people along here are marvellously dark in com- plexion. We see many that appear to be very aged, to all appearance not less than a hundred years old. They give you such an idea of old age as we can seldom have in England. The colour of their skins is the cause of this. *' But Doctor Johnson said there might be witches," says Peter Pindar : and I have seen two or three old ladies to-day that were quite enough to justify the Doc- tor's admission ; they had such deeply-tanned skins, such strong features, and such jet-black piercing eyes ; wear- 166 VITERBO. BACCAXO. 167 lAg too, a» the women do hereabout, a white napkin folded over the head and hanging down behind. Juve- HAL censures the delicacy of the women of his own time, as a sign of degeneracy. He says that the women •f former ages were inured to toil, and often rougher to look at than their acorn-eating husbands : ** Sa-pe h(krridior glandem ructante marito,** But the satirist must have seen plenty such in his day ; or the persons of some of the present race certainly prove that a regeneration has since taken place, for there is enough of the horridus about them to be consistent with the purest state of nature. I question, also, whether they ever toiled more than they do now. Every woman is hard at work, spinning, knitting, or at something of a much more laborious kind. The acorns too, which our ancestors are supposed to have fed on, were, no doubt, all nuts. On every part of the Apennines where there are woods of chesnuts, that fruit is still the food of the labouring people. We felt the influence of one climate to-day, and saw the regions of another. Tlte nightingale was twittering dose by the road's side, while we were looking at the dis- tant tops of mountains now all buried in snow. The Black Eagle inn at Viterbo is the best house we have met with on this road : and that is not saying much for it. In a dining-room, which resembles (not in cleanliness) one of the largest English farm-house kitchens, the walls are covered by the scribblings of tra- vellers. This is the case in maay of the inns. It is amusing to leid what some Lave left behind them. There is not consolation enough at the Black Eagle to have prevented our comfort-hunting countrynoen from being very querulous here. " PTm. Arnold, John Rlghtony Henry Colbrook: •* three fools for leaving English comfort fw the " sake of seeing greater fools than themselves.'* How like three Englishmen f And I must confess that I am not free from all sympathy with them. It does not do to think of " English comfort " here. There is a frankness in their confession of /o%, which gives these exasperated John Bulls the credit of having felt what they say. Another malcontent, but with less openness of heart, vents his own spleen upon his fellows in adversity, and writes this anonymous commentary under the record of their chagrin : ** And three still greater fools for owning itT* I5tk. Ba CCA NO— Warm, but overcast (63).— -Just as we were about to set off from Viterbo this morning, a crash of crockery-ware was heard. The window of my bed-room was open; the washand -basin, on three rickety legs, stood close by; the wind was high, and blew in the window-curtain 5 and thus had occurred this dire mishap. I, luckily, was too far off to have been the immediate cause of it. But the waiter, who, it seems, was answerable for breakage, suddenly appeared before me, with a face of most piteous complaint. I knew what 168 BACCANO. VITERBO. he would have, before he said a word : that I should pay for it. He could not be made to see the ridiculousness of such a demand ; it was of no use to remind him that I was not the ruler of the winds any more than himself. He swore per Bacco that it was very unjust, and, as there was no time to be lost in asserting his claim, he became less civil at every word. The altercation ended by my getting into the carriage to set off, when the waiter, thumping his fist on the step, now swore (per Crista !) that we should not go till he was paid. A number of loitering fellows who stood around, with the waiter, land- lord, and all, laid hold of the horses ; and we were fairly arrested. This was a little too much to be put up with. And the waiter's last oath, followed up by such a combi- nation to maintain it, showed that my personal strength was likely to be of as little avail as my logic. A short consultation was held ; and we determined to see if there was any law to be had. A friar, who was just then coming along, after hearing an abstract of my case, advised me to go to the governOy to the governor of the town. So off I posted, willingly sacrificing some time to have a little legal experience. The governor was a-bed ; but he received my statement, and that of my opponent, who likewise attended, from his valet. The sum in de- mand was so insignificant, that both the governor and his messenger recommended the payment of it for the sake of peace. But who goes to law without the iiope of justice? and I had come all the way for this. The merits of the case, therefore, having been more fully 169 considered, the waiter was cast ; and an officer was dispatched with orders at once to set us free, and to bring back the landlord to receive a lecture for such mis- conduct in his house. As we drove out of the town, leaving all at the Black Eagle as quiet as mice, we met the waiter, who was returning from the scene of litigation, and who passed by us not without looking knives and forks through the carriage- window. Travellers should be on their guard here as to impo- sition about passports. These things are costly, when application has to be made to Ministers. But while you are on the road, though the passport has frequently to be looked at, it is only at certain places that any thing should be paid. The officers who examine your passport are shabby military men. I mean shabby to look at only; for, they are generally well-behaved. At some places, however, they exercise a little cheatery. Two pauls (9c?.) was demanded of us on entering the gate at Viterbo, And this sum I afterwards caused the soldier to refund, the waiter, with whom I afterwards so un- fortunately fell out, having told me that such taking of money was punishable. We come through Ronciglione and Monterosi.^A long up-hill slope for a good distance from Viterbo. At the top we come in sight of Ronciglione, a pretty large borgo, — There are not many vines along here, they grow only in spots. Just round Viterbo the land is well culti- vated, and the vineyards appear to be good.— Near Ron- ciglione is the little lake of VicOy surrounded with woods 17a VITERBO. ROME. 171 ol oak and walnut.— Between Viterbo and Rowiglione there is much hazel and broom on otherwise barren land> and an abundance of wild flowers, amongst which is the primrose.— Mow/erosi is a very small place, on a hill> round about which there is a little green meadow land, with some vines on the side of the hill. From this place there is a fine view of Monte Soracte, looking like an immense long ridge of earth thrown up in the midst of a great plain. We thought of sleeping at Monterosi, the little inn being pleasantly situated ; but the landlord, whose eyes had the least fascinating squint, and whose manners were not more pleasing than his looks, drove u» away ; and Baccano is such a place that, in coming here, we have only jumped out of the fryingpan into the fire. It consists of two buildings only ; a large post- house and its stable. The house is in a singularly bad situation, in a dell from which, at some seasons, the exhalations that arise are very unhealthy, and cause that fever for which the neighbourhood of Rome is noted. Here we are within a very few miles of Rome! within a few miles of what was once the capital of Europe ; and what do we see here that harmonizes with the recollection? Our inn is what we might expect to meet with in the least civilized part of a civilized country. The part of the house in which travellers are accommodated is on the first floor, where there is a long gallery, with a range of bed-rooms on each side of it, and a great dirty saloon at one end. One lazy waiter i» the only person that seems to be doing any thing up stairs, and he seems willing to do nothing. The people are inattentive and indolent, and as dirty as pigs. I6th. Rome. — The morning begins with a shower. We have fine weather till we get towards Rome, and enter this city in a thoroughly wet afternoon (68). The approach to Rome is singularly void of interest, excepting only the thought of the place you are approach- ing. Immediately on getting out of the hole in which Baccano lies, the cupola of the church of St. Peter's is seen. The land all the way is a part of what is called the Campagna of Rome, which is famous for its want of cultivation, though the soil is by no means all bad. The far greater part of it bears nothing but a poor grass, brambles, and high weeds. Only a few patchy crops of wheat and lupines. A vast deal of this land has the traces of the plough on it, though it has, for many years, evidently been left to crop itself. There is a little wood-land, at about three miles from Rome, with some cork-trees, some herds of grazing oxen, and flocks of long-legged, ugly sheep.— A part of the road is paved.— A few ruins of towers and old houses is all, in the way of buildings, that you see till you come within about a mile of the walls of the city, where there are dwelling-houses and gardens. At a mile from Rome we crossed the Tiber on the bridge anciently called Pons Milvius, \ now Ponte- Molle^ the road leading from which is a part of the ancient Via Flaminiana, which brings you to the gate called Porta Flaminiana, or, modernly, Porta del i2 I 172 ROME. Popolo (the Gate of the People). Through this gate you enter a fine large place, called Piazza del Popolo (the Place of the People). The gate, and the place it leads into, are such as promise rather the perfection of grandeur than the ruin of it. We were surprised to see any thing so splendid at the entrance to modern Rome. The Piazza, which is very large, has a fine fountain in the centre of it, surmounted by an Egyptian obelisk ; the principal street of Rome (the Corso) runs out of the Piazza exactly opposite the gateway ; two other streets branch off, one on each side of the Corso ; and at the two corners of the buildings, formed by the three streets all coming to one point, there are the fronts of two elegant churches. We drove along the Corso to the Custom-house, noticing nothing more particular than that the houses were even more high, large, solid, and heavy, than any we had seen before.— The Custom-house here is well conducted. They give you as little trouble as they can in looking at your things ; but no one gets clear by bribery. The difficulty that we have had to get any thing of a lodging for to-night is almost incredible ; the city is so full of people, who have come to be here at Easter. There is not a garret to be hired in any hotel ; though, there are hotels in abundance, some of which are built almost on purpose for the pressing occasion of Holy Week. nth. — Fine and warm (69). The wind, to- day, is -what is here called scirocco, a warm south-east wind. It is disagreeable, and has an enervating effect. The ROME. 173 scirocco is always prevalent at Rome in the warm months of the year. An Englishman, who has lived in Rome for some years, tells me that he can always feel if the scirocco be blowing, even before he is out of bed of a morning. We noticed that there was a something very unpleasant in the air, as we were travelling yesterday, and it was this south-east wind. Before we set out for Rome, we were afraid that we should have occasion to use a saying of the Italians which is expressive of mischance, and in its literal sense : sono stato a Roma, e 7ion ho visto il Papa — I went to Rome, and did not see the Pope. But the successor of Leo XII. is, however, elected, and we saw him to-day assisting in a ceremony at St. Peter's. Well, indeed, has it ever been said, that there is no- thing hke experience. If I had not already been aware of how little profit it is to attempt to imagine great things that are to he seen, by reading about them, the sights that I have experienced to day, those of the Colosseum and St. Peters, must have pretty well convinced me. How many describers have endeavoured to excite asto- nishment in speaking of these things, and how much more astonishment does the sight of them give than all that their beholders have been told of them beforehand ! The engraver has given us a tolerable idea of the Colos- seum ; and this thing I longed to see, expecting to find more to admire in it than any thing of the artificial kind in Italy. I strolled out eariy this morning, no anti- quary, yet in search of great monuments of antiquity. I ; >ii i n4 BOKE. 9 had no cicerone, as the guides to curioaities are here caUed ; but chance directed my steps the way I should have wished ; and, before I knew where I had got to, I was on the very spot, or very near it, where the Forum once stood, where Cicero used to harangue his country- men ; the Capitol on one side and the Colosseum on the other ; and amongst triumphal arches, the ruins of the palace of the Caesars, the Jugurthan prison, the Tarpeian lock, dilapidated temples, and a few straggling but noble columns, some now brought down to roll in the dust, others still standing on end with fragments on their heads, as if bidding defiance to all Time's power to destroy. Many as are the centuries passed since the time of ancient Rome, the people continue to this hour tQ bring buried curiosities to light. One would tliink that the ardour of antiquaries must have caused all the ground about this city to be long ago completely trenched. There are some workmen now employed in laying bare a part of the pavement of the ancient Via Sacray between the Colosseum and the Capitol ; and I saw a piece oi handsome tesselated marble pavement, near the same spot, which has been discovered only a few days. — The Colosseum, otherwise called the Amphitheatre, is an immense oval building, on the arena inside of which the Romans used to exhibit their barbarous and cruel com* bats between men and beasts, and massacres of human beings condenmed to death. The rows of seats, which £(}rmerly sloped from the edge of the arena all around towards the top of the building, are said to have con- k ROME. 175 tained more than a hundred thousand spectators. What spectators ! and what spectacles ! There is enough of the Colosseum left to attest its original size. History assures us of the almost incredible acts of ferocity per- formed within its walls. The further speculation would be vain ; yet one cannot help wishing to know how many lives have been sacrificed, what measure of blood has been shed, on its vast arena ! The size, the whole appear- ance of this thing, is truly colossal. It gives you the idea, not merely of a wonderful race of meuy but yott must almost suppose that those men were giants. Every separate piece of the building is in character with the whole of the great fabric. The squared blocks of stone are so huge, that to describe their size would be risking one's character for veracity. There are three tiers of arches, from the ground to the second story, all round the building, and every one of these would be fit, in strength, height, and width, to be the gateway of an Italian city. The materials are a sort of very lasting stone, called travertino, which is found at some distance ofi" among the Apennine mountains, and of which the greater part of the city is built. The architects of age after age have carried away a large part of the Colos- seum to build houses with; and Michel Angelo, with more care to be immortal himself, than to let his prede- cessors remain so, was ruthless enough to lay spoiling hands on the Colosseum, and has displayed his own art in pieces of architecture framed with materials that he tore from this. To prevent further dilapidation, the. ''\\ 176 ROME. 1;; whole place was, some time ago, consecrated by the Pope ; 60 that it is now sacred to all hands. A large crucifix is erected in the centre of the arena, which the Romans kiss as they walk through. Here, perhaps, is exhibited the most signal triumph of Christianity that is to be witnessed in the whole world. Here the cross is planted in the very ground that drank the blood of the primitive Christians, and the Catholics worship their image of redemption in the midst of the ruins of that theatre on which the Christian faith has gone through the most trying scenes of martyrdom. This evening we heard the miserere sung in St. Peter's. The miserere, lis here sung, is, I am told, the finest piece of music to be heard in the world. There were no women among the singers. But there was one circumstance connected with the persons forming this choir, which, whatever may be its influence towards making the music more imposing on the people, does certainly countenance a good deal of what we Protestants have to say against the practices of the Holy See. It may be unchristian- like to look on the Pope as the scarlet whore, wrong to say that his doctrine is idolatrous and damnable ; but the miserere at St. Peter's is certainly as vile an insult to reason, as heathen-like a clap- trap for the ear, as any thing that ever was adopted by British Druid or priest of the Hindoos. This thing is enough to justify the coarsest jests; such as Swift's about the catholic holy -water, which he calls the Pope's universal •pickle. ROME. 177 18M. — Clear, but scirocco (71). 19/A, — Fine warm day (70). — We are just returned from witnessing the august ceremonies oi Easter Sunday in St. Peter's. And now, sitting down to make notes of what I have seen, how am 1 to describe the sight in any way equal to its merit ; or, if I were to do that (which I cannot), how should I hope to make any body believe that such things really are ? St. Peter's, called Basilica di San Pietro in Vati* cano, is immediately attached to the Vatican, the Pope's principal palace. The palace stands adjoining one side of the church. The church stands at the top of a gentle ascent. There is a large piazza, or open, space in front of it ; at the sides of which are two colonnades of semi- circular form, the upper ends of which join each side of the church by two long galleries or cloisters. There is a wide space between the lower ends of the two colon- nades, for carriages to drive into the Piazza. In the centre of the Piazza stands an Egyptian obelisk 124 feet high, and on each side of this, at equal distances, are two beautiful fountains, each spouting up water enough to make the stream of a small river. Take off the grand dome and the two minor domes of the church, and the cross on the obelisk, and there is nothing left that would have made me guess this place to be St. Peter s. It would not strike me to be a church at all. A palace^ indeed, and that of the most splendid kind that can be conceived. As a church, it has nothing to create that veneration which I expected to feel on seeing it. As a i3 I ii«' 178 ROME. ROME. 179 w1^ palace, it is so enormously magnificent (if I may use such big words) that no one but an architect can have any Botion of the thing excepting through the medium of the eyes. St. Peter's is 458 feet in height, from the pave- ment of the church to the top of the cross ; and 613 feet in length, from one end of the interior of the church to the other. I never saw so old a building that struck me as looking so very new. The stone (travertino) of which it is built, is of a quality that preserves its colour, and the colour is light. Besides which, there is no smoke here to alter the colour of buildings. You might sup- pose, on first sight of the building, that the whola of it were built but a short time ago, and all at one time. 1 have read, in the book of some traveller, a description of the Jilthiness of St. Peter's, and the general wretched appearance of the neighbourhood around it. Travellers must see with very various kinds of eyes ; for, the exte- rior of this church is, to me, singularly free from any thing of the kind ; while the inside is as clean as a draw* ing-room. The insides of French churches are, indeed, very filthy, but the contrary is the case in Italy ; and St. Peter's is, as might be supposed, remarkable for the ^.ttention bestowed upon it in this respect. There is not an inch square of the whole interior of St. Peter's that does not strike you with astonishment at the labour bestowed and the money laid out to construct Ibis building. The floor is all marble, and the ceiling is all glittering with gold. The walls are covered with mosaic copies of some of the most celebrated pictures ; \ and the beauty of these may be imagined from this, that some of the mosaics are considered even to rival the original paintings. The immense columns are all en- crusted with the rarest marbles, and other more precious Stones ; and such a quantity of these are there here, that it is said that the world cannot furnish materials to make another St, Peter*s» In the niches, and all over the church, are beautiful pieces of sculpture, and colossal statues of many of the Popes. The whole of the interior of the dome is worked in mosaic. Immediately under the centre of the dome is the shrine of St. Peter, with a railing around, and steps leading down to the tomb ; and above, round the base of the dome, is the following most apt inscription, from the book of Matthew : Tu Es Petrus, et super HAKC PETRAM £DIFICAB0 ECCLESIAM MEAM j ET TIBI DABO CLARES BEGNI C(£LORUM. <^ Thou art Peter, and on this rock I will build my **^ church ; and I will give unto thee the keys of the " kingdom of Heaven." The superstructure is indeed consistent with its foundation : the " church " is wor- thy of the " rock,'* There is a very ancient bronze statue of St. Peter standing within the church. The feet of the statue, which represents St. Peter ill the act of giving benediction, are about five feet from the pave- ment. One of the feet projects a little over the pedestal as if on purpose to receive the salutations of pious lips. The kisses given to this foot are so many, that there was. M I » I f r I 180 ROME. ROME. 181 I am told, one whole set of new toes put on some years ago; and the present great toe is certainly much the worse for wear. — It is said that people are generally dis- appointed, at first sight, as to the size of the interior of the church. It was so with us. But every part of it is so covered with ornament, there is such a glare of finery in every direction, that you are dazzled, and your sight is struck with more than it can bear at one time. The colos* sal figures in marble and mosaic appear almost of natural size ; no individual object strikes you as being large, till you come quite near to it ; which proves how immense the place must be, whatever impression it may make upon you at the first glance. It is said that St. Peter's would contain the whole of the present population of Home, not less than a hundred and fifty thousand peo- ple. I cannot well guess how many were in it to-day, when the Pope said mass. I should think, however, as many as from fifteen to twenty thousand. But there might have been twice that number for what I can say. The place was so much larger than any place I ever saw a crowd in before, that I could not venture on an estimate of numbers. Ceremonies so full of pomp as those we have seea to-day, conducted in so magnificent a place, and wit- nessed by such an assemblage of people of all degrees and all nations, cannot be to be equalled any where else ia the world. The Pope came into the church followed by all the cardinals. There was an altar raised over St» Peter's shrine, at which the Pope performed the mass* There was a throne erected for the Pope, and seate for the cardinals and other dignitaries, for foreign princes and ambassadors, and other great people, all hung with scarlet cloth. On each side of the altar there was a raised platform for nobility and gentry, but for ladies alone ; and a large part of these ladies were Englishwomen. There was nothing more in the way of accommodations} the great mass of the congregation were all standing in a promiscuous crowd ; and the sight of all these people, in this church, was a thing really worth coming all the way to Rome on purpose to behold it. Such a sight as this is more than equal in interest to the incidents of many a whole lifetime. Like all other Catholic churches on the Continent, St Peter's has no division, no pews, but is entirely open; consequently there is no distinction of rank as to place; no best or worst place ; and it was a pleasing sight to behold a fine lady composedly kneel down, and prepare to say her prayers, by the side of a poor and plainly dressed person. The coup d'ceil presented to our view was as splendid as it was unlike any thing to be seen out of St. Peter's. There was the Pope officiating at the altar, attended by the cardinals, officers of state, military, foreign princes and ambas- sadors, all in the state dresses of their different courts ; then there were ladies and gentlemen of diflFerent coun- tries, the native peasantry, and pilgrims innumerable ; little children, some of them of the poorest description, and all these, at the elevation of the host, were kneel- ing together, the labourer ^ alongside of the grandee^ II ■f: II 182 ROME. But, to describe it, to make others see it without coining here ; this is impossible. The grand general effect is too much to admit of any description at til. However, there was one part of the show which, while it was by no means the least to be admired, may be spoken of in detail to some profit. That is, the numerous groups of country people, of the peasantry, and of the pilgrims from different parts of Italy. The presence of these people gave a peculiar character to the whole assemblage. The peasantry in the neighbourhood of Rome, as well as in more distant parts of the country, are conspicuous for their costumes. We see pictures of these costumes in England ; but in looking at the pictures we cannot help giving the painter's imagination the credit for inventing much of the magnificence they represent. It seems almost ridiculous to believe that labouring co«n» try people should dress in such very fine clothes. The dress of the women is, of course, more remarkable than that of the men. There is the most beautiful arrange- ment of full draperies ; pink and blue satin gowns with figures worked upon them 3 fine transparent muslin aprons. Then there is a boddice, of some colour strongly contrasted with that of the gown, and laced, itself, with Jet another colour. Large bows, of various colours^ or corresponding with the lacing of the boddice, are on the shoulders ; and long ends from the bows hang over the sleeve of the chemise (as the ladies call it), which is full and confined at the elbow. On the bust is a muslin handkerchief, crossed in the front, and most beautifully HOME. 183 arranged in plaits down to a point in the middle of the back, so as to set off the figure. Almost all the women wear some ornament round the neck; generally large necklaces of coral, or a gold chain with a cross. The hair is fastened at the back of the head, in the Grecian style, with large silver bodkins, 01 sometimes with bows of ribbons ; and a veil of muslin, worked, or trimmed with lace, hangs gracefully back over the shoulders. This is the holiday dress of a countrywoman in the neighbour- hood of Rome ; and the very same dress has, perhaps, been worn for hundreds of years back. The styles of dress are very various ; and there are many small places within a few miles of Rome each of which has its pecu- liar costume; such as 4 Z6ano, Frascafi, Genzano, Vel- letri, Nettuno, Sonnino, and others. The costumes of some neighbourhoods are very costly. Some of the dresses, not including the necklace, ear-rings, or orna- ments for the hair, would cost not less than 14/. or 15/. of our money. There are dresses consisting entirely of scar- let and gold ; gold lace in several rows round the skirt, and the same round the cuffs and the collar of the up- per part of the garment, which is made in the form of a jacket. There is a certain class of persons called cmt- nenti, or minenti, of the inhabitants of the city, who also have their particular costume, which is very hand- some. I do not know why they are called eminenti ; for, though not of the lowest class of citizens, they are only one class above it. Their dress is of the most various colours, and is equally showy and neat. The bodkin that I t V] 184 ROME. ROME. 185 the women stick in their hair is of solid silver, and is about seven inches long, as large as a good-sized dagger, and much resembling that weapon in shape. They wear large gold ear-rings, and shoes of all sorts of colours, with shoe-buckles of enormous size. The dress of the men is a short jacket, and breeches to the knee, stockings, and shoes ; and the most showy article of their dress is a long coloured silk scarf, which they wear as a waist-band. The people of tliis part of Italy are very handsome. We were struck with the beauty of the Roman women as soon as we arrived here. The Romans are a large, stout people, and much more dignified in their manner than the other Italians we have seen. The men are robust and manly-looking, with countenances that are expres- sive, though not always amiable. Among the peasants in St. Peter's to-day there were some of the most beau- tiful women that I have ever seen. They somewhat lesembled the women of Lancashire, that is to say, in figure. They were tall and stout. Their costume was in the highest degree becoming them ; and their carriage was so dignified and so graceful, that you might suppose they had never worn any clothes less fine in their lives. Their manner was really majestic ; they looked as if they must have l^een all created to be queens. They were by no means what we should call delicate in person ; yet there was nothing masculine about them, either in figure, face, or manner. Their complexions were a very dark, but ▼cry clear olive, with a tinge of red on the cheeks ; they had fine 0|>en foreheads ; fine large black eyes, and long eye-Iashes; and their hair really vieing with the plumage of the raven. More beautiful complexions, and more regular and expressive sets of features, were never pour- trayed in painting or imagined in poetry. A great many of these people, men, women, and children, have the most noble and most animated countenances that can possibly be. At the close of the ceremony, the Pope came to the front of the shrine, and, turning towards it, kneeled down on a cushion to pray. "When he rose, he was seated, dressed in white satin robes and wearing the triple crown j in a chair upon a platform, and borne, under a canopy, on the shoulders of men, splendid ostrich plumes waving on each side of him. The cardinals all followed, dressed in robes of scarlet, and the procession moved down through the middle aisle of the church, between two rows of the Pope's body-guard. This guard is composed altogether of Swiss, dressed in a most singular sort of regimentals. They have coats and big breeches of yellow and red cloth, alter- nate stripes of each colour sew^ed together ; a black bea- ver hat of simple shape, with one side of the rim turned up, and a short black feather ; red stockings, and shoes. These fellow^s are all armed with halberds, which are long- handled battle-axes. All the people now hurried out of the church into the great piazza in front of it, and the Pope, having been carried up to a gallery at the front of the building, appeared at a window, still borne on the shoulders of his attendants. This was quite a new scene again; and so quickly brought about; the actors and y' ii |ir, W\ ROMS. HOME. 187 llw tpwlmloii all the same that were in the iDside of the clmrcb not above five minutes before. The people on foot cmirded aa near to the front of the church as they could, standing on a long and wide flight of steps. The more iJMtint parts of the piazza were occupied by hundreds of carriages full of ladies and gentlemen. When the Pope came forward, the bell of St. Peter's began to toll, and •anooo to fire. Every eye was instantly fixed on the Holy Father, who was about to give us all his benedic* Hon ; and as soon as he began to raise his hands for that pHfMte, every soul, man, woman, and child, dropped on their knees, the people on foot on the pavement, and those in the carriages on their seats. This was a very short ceremony, but the eflfect of it, while it lasted, was truly grand ; the most imposing sight that can be imagined. 20/4. — Fine and warm, but scirocco (70.)^Last night St Peter's was illuminated. The whole of the exterior «llhe building, even up to the top of the cross, was covered with burning torches. It looked very fine at a koce. There are a great many hands employed ia illumination. All at one instant the whole of the lights were shifted, so as to make a complete change in the form of the illumination. The shifting of the lights, fua some parts of the building, is attended with much So much so, that the workmen alviays confess ar sins and receive the extreme unction before they go to work. Yet they say that no serious accident has ever hnn known to occur. — To-night there were fire-works at the castle of Sant' Angela y which stands near St. Peter's. These are considered to be the most splendid fire-works that take place any where. 2lrst. — Fair; but the same disagreeable wind (70). 22nd, — Same weather. The scirocco very oppressive (71). — Vegetation is forward ; vines in full leaf; figs the size of a pullet*s egg ; standard apricots as big as a wal- nut ; standard peaches as big as a hazel-nut. The gar* dens are full of flowers. The acacia is in blossom. 2Zrd. — Same weather (72). — It is of no use to mince the matter in speaking of the filth of the Italians. It does not signify talking, as we say : they are a nasty, dirty nation. They are not dirty in the same degree in all parts; as we proceed towards the south, they seem to be more and more so. One would suppose that filth would be less compatible with comfort in a hot climate than in a cool one. Yet the inhabitants of countries the most exposed to the sun are the least cleanly. The English and Dutch of America have lost much of the cleanly habits of their ancestors. Some of the filthiness of this country is such, that to enter into particulars would be a loathsome task. With all the handsome finery that the people sport on holidays, there is a deal of negligence about their ordinary dress. Parties of ladies and gentlemen, dressed in their best clothes, meet together in drawing-rooms the floors of which are of bare bricks that seem never to have been washed. 24/A. — Very fine warm day (73).— The growth of all vegetables is much more forward than it was about Floeevce when we came away. The vine-shoots here N ROME. ^1 tbe spectators all the same that were io the inside of the church DOt above five minutes before. The people on foot cjowded as near to the front of the church as they could, standing on a long and wide flight of steps. The more distant parts of the piazza were occupied by hundreds of carriages full of ladies and gentlemen. When the Pope came forward, the bell of St. Peter's began to toll, and cannon to fire. Every eye was instantly fixed on the Holy Father, who was about to give us all his benedic- Hon ; and as soon as he began to raise his hands for that purpose^ every soul, man, woman, and child, dropped on their knees, the people on foot on the pavement, and those in the carriages on their seats. This was a very short ceremony, but the effect of it, while it lasted, was truly grand ; the most imposing sight that can be imagined. 20/A. — Fine and warm, but scirocco (70.)— Last night St Peter's was illuminated. The whole of the exterior of the building, even up to the top of the cross, waft covered with buruing torches. It looked very fine at a distance. There are a great many hands employed in fim illumination. All at one instant the whole of the lights were shifted, so as to make a complete change in the form of the illumination. The shifting of the lights, on some parts of the building, is attended with much danger. So much so, that the workmen always confess their sins and receive the extreme unction before they go to work. Yet they say that no serious accident has ever been known to occur. — To-night there were fire- works at the castle of Sarit' Angelo, which stands near St. Peter's. ROME. 187 These are considered to be the most splendid fire-works that take place any where. 2lrst. — Fair ; but the same disagreeable wind (70). 22nc?. — Same weather. The scirocco very oppressive (71). — Vegetation is forward ; vines in full leaf; figs the size of a pullet's e^ ; standard apricots as big as a wal- nut ; standard peaches as big as a hazel-nut. The gar- dens are full of flowers. The acacia is in blossom. 23rd. — Same weather (72). — It is of no use to mince the matter in speaking of the Jilth of the Italians. It does not signify talking, as we say : they are a nasty, dirty nation. They are not dirty in the same degree in all parts ; as we proceed towards the south, they seem to be more and more so. One would suppose that filth would be less compatible with comfort in a hot climate than in a cool one. Yet the inhabitants of countries the most exposed to the sun are the least cleanly. The English and Dutch of America have lost much of the cleanly habits of their ancestors. Some of the filthiness «f this country is such, that to enter into particulars would be a loathsome task. With all the handsome finery that the people sport on holidays, there is a deal of negligence about their ordinary dress. Parties of ladies and gentlemen, dressed in their best clothes, meet together in drawing-rooms the floors of which are oi bare bricks that seem never to have been washed. 2Ath, — Very fine warm day (73).— The growth of all vegetables is much more forward than it was about Florence when we came away. The vine-shoots hem 1 j4 188 ROME. are fifteen or sixteen inches long, while, on our road from Florence, they were only beginning to appear. — On this day (25th April) the Romans generally begin to eat cherries. 25^A.— Very fine, and hot (75). 26th. — Same weather (74). — The Corso, or main street of Rome, was crowded with carriages this afternoon (Sunday). The people seem to take great pride in the power of driving up and down this long dusty street in an open carriage. There are plenty of pleasant drives without the walls of the city. But this recreation is gene- rally confined to the Corso, as that is the place where there are most people to be seen by. They seem to have the same notion of riding that sailors have, and all seem as if they were having a ride for the first time in their lives. At each end of the Corso there are dragoons on horseback, stationed to preserve order among the carriages. 27th. — Fine and hot (75) : at ten o'clock at night (70). —This morning we went through the VaticaUy to see the wonders of art therein contained. But this place is so immense, and the objects to look at are so many in num- ber, that we could hardly do more than just walk through it. The apartments of the Vatican are so numerous as not to be reckoned by hundreds, but by thousands. The galleries containing the sculpture of the ancients, and the galleries of the library, are of great length and extremely beautiful. Here is the Apollo Belvedere, and some others of the most far-famed works of art in marble. Here are the original paintings of Raphael, of which I ROME. 189 we see the cartoons at Hampton Court. Among the curiosities of the library there are some letters of Henry VHL, in his own handwriting, to Anna Boleyn, in which the king styles himself her ^^ loving sweetheart,** The Italians are certainly a very temperate people in their eating and drinking. I have heard that the Romans are drunkards ; but have not, however, as yet, ever met with a drunken man in the street. Your course must be very lucky, in the streets of any English town, to avoid such a rencontre for two or three days together. The Italians do not, generally speaking, eat more than two meals in the day. At their breakfast they drink coffee, or wine and water. They dine late, and the dinner is always the principal meal ; yet it is by no means a very solid one, and they never drink wine without putting more or less of water with it. But this climate evi» dently requires less eating and drinking than cold and damp climates do. The Italians themselves say so : they say that it would be injurious to health to exceed their present habits in this respect. I have been surprised to see how little is suflicient for some of them to preserve good looks upon. If we call the French moderate, what shall we call these people ! But the truth is, that the French are, as to eating, the greatest gormandizers in the world. They are at once the most dainty and most devouring. The meat at Rome is not good. Neither are the people good cooks ; at least, they are nothing like equal to the French in this. They eat a good deal of food that is poor. Some of their dishes are strange I id 1 1 I I. 1, 11^ 190 ROME. disagreeable compounds, which must, one would think, tend more to the destruction than to the nourishment of the human frame. There is one, in particular, that beats aU the messes I have ever tasted. They call it agro- dolce (sour-sweet) ; and the name could not be more proper, for I should imagine the principal ingredients to be the two opposite extremes of pyroligneous acid and honey.— Most of the milk that is consumed here is that of goats. There is not good grass enough about Rome to admit of their keeping many cows. The goatherds drive the goats into the city, and they are milked in the streets. The goats here, which are mostly white, are very beauti- ful animals. They are one of the great ornaments of the rural scenery of Italy. 28^/i.— Same weather (73). — English people are shocked at the accounts they hear of the state of matri" tnony in this country. If I am to believe what I hear at Rome, those accounts do not much exceed the truth. We must not, however, be made to believe that there is no such thing as an instance of conjugal fidelity in Italy. I am told that the morals of the Italians, in this respect, are a good deal mended within a few years back ; and whatever reproach may still be deserved, there is no doubt but that all the weight of it should fall upon the men, leaving the women out of the question, as the slip of the wife must, almost always, be attributable to miscon- duct in the husband. In that way, at all events, the mat- ter should be regarded, when, independent of individual cases, the vice is considered as characterising a whole ROME, 191 country. It was formerly the fashion here, as we have all heard, for all married women of any rank to have what the Italians call a cicisMo, or cavaliere, that is, a knight in waiting* Now-a-days this custom is less prevalent ; but it is by no means utterly abolished ; and I under- stand that the ladies of Rome are far from being the most eager to discourage its continuance. I have this day heard of one most curious instance of a blessed husband. I can hardly believe the story myself. And yet, I may almost answer for the truth of it ; for the parties live under the same roof with the person (an Englishman) who related it to me. There is a man and his wife, and a family of children. When the marriage took place, the lady insisted on a stipulation, in the marriage con- tract, that a certain gentleman, whom she had thought worthy to be her cavaliere, should live in the house. There they all are, and have been for thirty years, all three living together ! It is said that the resemblance between half the children and the cavaliere is so; striking as to leave no doubt that his capacity, as a member of the family, has not been merely of a nominal kind. This, then, is a woman with two husbands^ as near as can well be. And, what is most to be admired, I am told that the family is free from discord, and that the two lords are on a footing of mutual good understand- ing with one another. There are sons and daughters, grown to be men and women, who still live with thei mother. The cavaliere assumes the principal authority in the household; he is head man-, while the lawful '! 190 ROME. ROME. 191 disagreeable compounds, which must, one would think, tend more to the destruction than to the nourishment of die human frame. There is one, in particular, that beats aU the messes I have ever tasted. They call it agro- dolce (sour-sweet) ; and the name could not be more proper, for I should imagine the principal ingredients to be the two opposite extremes of pyroligneous acid and honey.— Most of the milk that is consumed here is that of goats. There is not good grass enough about Rome to admit of their keeping many cows. The goatherds drive the goats into the city, and they are milked in the streets. The goats here, which are mostly white, are very beauti- ful animals. They are one of the great ornaments of the rural scenery of Italy. 28^^.— Same weather (73). — English people are shocked at the accounts they hear of the state of matri- mony in this country. If I am to believe what I hear at Rome, those accounts do not much exceed the truth. We must not, however, be made to believe that there is no such thing as an instance of conjugal fidelity in Italy. I am told that the morals of the Italians, in this respect, are a good deal mended within a few years back ; and whatever reproach may still be deserved, there is no doubt but that all the weight of it should fall upon the men, leaving the women out of the question, as the slip of the wife must, almost always, be attributable to miscon- duct in the husband. In that way, at all events, the mat- ter should be regarded, when, independent of individual cases, the vice is considered aa characterising a whole country. It was formerly the fashion here, as we have all heard, for all married women of any rank to have what the Italians call a cicisbeo, or cavaliere, that is, a knight in waiting* Now-a-days this custom is less prevalent ; but it is by no means utterly abolished ; and I under- stand that the ladies of Rome are far from being the roost eager to discourage its continuance. I have this day heard of one most curious instance of a blessed husband. I can hardly believe the story myself. And yet, I may almost answer for the truth of it ; for the parties live under the same roof with the person (an Englishman) who related it to me. There is a man and his wife, and a family of children. When the marriage took place, the lady insisted on a stipulation, in the marriage con- tract, that a certain gentleman, whom she had thought worthy to be her cavaliere, should live in the house. There they all are, and have been for thirty years, all three living together ! It is said that the resemblance between half the children and the cavaliere is so striking as to leave no doubt that his capacity, as a member of the family, has not been merely of a nominal kind. This, then, is a woman with two husbands, a& near as can well be. And, what is most to be admired, I am told that the family is free from discord, and that the two lords are on a footing of mutual good understand- ing with one another. There are sons and daughters, grown to be men and women, who still live with thei mother. The cavaliere assumes the principal authority ia the household; he is head man-, while the lawful If^ ROME. ROME. 193 husband is contented to retain the one great undisputed honour of being called " papa " by all the children ! 29//i.— Fair, but cool (65). 30/A.— Change of weather. Rather cold, with some rain (64). — You may now see fruit formed on some of the vines ; the bunches of grapes are about half an inch long. May. Irst. — Fine day, but rather cold wind (65). — There was a frost last night, which cut down some of the vine- shoots, and the French-beans. — The ruins of the Palace of the Ccesars are immediately on the Palatine Hill, where Romulus is said to have built the original city of Rome. On this hill, and amidst the ruins, there is a modern villa, with a fine large garden, which we saw this morning. Here there was a greater quantity of roses in blossom than I have ever seen in any twenty gardens all put together. There was an arcade of trellice work, about sixty yards lono', literally covered with the blossom of Chinese roses. 2nrf.— Fair (64). 2rd. — Fine (64). — From the length of time that the ruins of the Colosseum have been standing, great num- bers of shrubs and plants have taken root among the mortar and rubbish. This vegetation adds much to the picturesque of the interior of the place. There are sumac, honeysuckle, trefoil, garlic, foxglove, wallflower, and a great many other shrubs and plants. Some French lady has published a work, relating entirely to the shrubs and plants which grow on these ruins. A sermon is preached, every Sunday afternoon, among the ruins of this place. The preacher is a priest of the order of Capuchins. It would be impossible to give an idea of the style of one of these sermons. They are so animated, so full of speaking gesticulation, so abounding in familiar figures and illustrations. The Capuchin friars are one class of Franciscans. They have their hair shaved ofiF, leaving^ just a ring of it round the head, but the crown quite bare ; and their beards grow long. They wear a large gown with sleeves, and a cowl which is to cover the head, but which generally hangs behind. This dress is made of the coarsest cloth, of a sort of rusty russet colour. They generally go bare-headed, though a small black scull-cap is, properly, part of the costume. Their necks and legs are quite bare : they have, in short, nothing else on their bodies, excepting a coarse pair of sandals for the feet. They have a common hempen cord tied round the waist: and from this hangs a large string of wooden beads and a cross. The congregation at the Colosseum was ajs attentive as the preacher was earnest. I really like these preachers: there is so much nature in their rhetoric. The object of the Capuchin's eloquence was to inspire hu- mility (the characteristic virtue of his order) j and in this he very soon succeeded. *' Kneel down," said he ; and they knelt ; " strike your breasts," and they did so. Then he told them that they should punish their bodies for the good of their souls : " Cos), cost" said he, (thus, thus,) at the same time exemplifying the doctrine by laying on upon his own shoulders with his hempen girdle. In be- K i| :i' 194 ROME. seeching them to reflect on the brevity of this life, he exclaimed " Da qu\, a cinquant' anwt— then paused, kissed his hand, and added— piazza pulitar (Fifty years hence—and you are all gone!) But this is no translation. Our language can hardly express the idea. How much less could any language convey an idea of the preacher's manner ! 4/ii.— Fair (65).— The public are not admitted to the courts of justice at Rome; at least, not to all of them. The doors of the criminal court are always closed. There are three courts, however, of one jurisdiction, into which any body may go. These are inferior courts, which have a very limited power, and decide questions of debt not exceeding a certain amount. I saw these courts to-day, and heard the arguments and decisions in several cases. The judge, the lawyers on both sides, and the audience, were all talking at the same time, A famous place to learn to talk Italian ! But that any thing like business should be conducted in such places appears to be impossible. There is no such thing as trial by jury here. An advocate of the Roman consis- torial court with whom I was talking to-day, a learned man, and a writer, too, on law, had evidently no notion of the administration of law in England. He was quite astonished, and seemed, indeed, rather shocked, to hear that our juries were not always composed of the highest order of persons in the nation. " Pardi ! " said he, ">e rCaimerais pas d'etre juge parcesjens U, (Faith! I should not like to be tried by that sort of people). VELLETRI. IG^ 5th. — Warm showers (67). — My experience to-day has been more among the dead than among the living. This is the festival of Pope Pius I., and the remains of his body were exposed to public view this morning, ac- cording to custom, in one of the finest churches of Rome, iSaw^a Maria Maggiore, Many persons, among the pious or the curious, were present at this exhibition. I afterwards went to a convent inhabited by the Capu- chins, who showed me their cemetery, the place of deposite for the bodies of their dead. There were a suit of apartments under ground. All the walls and ceilings were decorated by various devices formed with the skulls and other bones of the friars. There were large piles of bones, with niches made in them, in which were com- plete skeletons standing erect or lying at full length. Some of the skeletons were dressed out in the full cos- tume of the order. The place of interment were the floors of this cemetery, which were of bare earth. There were the graves of some of the friars not long extinct, whose remains must, in their turn, be taken up and piled on the general heap of bones, to make room for others. 6th. Velletri. — Delightful summer*s day (72).— Thus far (about 28 miles from Rome) on an excursion to Naples, whither I am going in company with a young Roman lawyer, who has hardly ever left his native city before, and who is anxious, like myself, to have a look from the top of Mount Vesuvius. — We came through Albano, Aricia, and Genzano. For about eleven miles from Rome the land is a dead flat ; a good k2 ii I J^gQ VELLETRI. deal of it uncultivated ; but some crops of wheat and rye. A few straggling ruins of ancient Rome are still to be seen on this plain, one of which is a part of an aqueduct. On quitting the level we had to ascend for about three miles to Albano, which stands on a mountain of the same name. The country was very fine all the way here from Albano. The situation of that place is delight- ful ; there is an extensive view of Rome from it, of all the plain for miles around, and of the sea. It was sudden hill and dell all the way, and the land good. The land is so well cultivated here, that it makes amends for the appearances of sterility on the Campagna of Rome. The vineyards and the corn rival those of Lucca. The vines are trained in the neatest manner, and mostly close to the ground : they stand in rov/s five or six feet apart, and in the intervals there are French beans, Indian corn. rye, or wheat. The rye has been out in full ear for some d^ys.— Velletri contains about 12,000 inhabit- ants. The other places we passed through were of much less size. Their situations are all most agree- able. Not so, however, the towns and villages them- selves : these are picturesque, as forming a part of the scenery ; and they all have the appearance of great anti- quity about them, which, of itself, gives one kind of claim to the traveller's admiration ; but there is much about the insides of them to shock people who come with English ways of thinking. If there are one or two main Blreets of some width, and pretty well free from dirt, the. rest of the streets are extremely confined, the houses out TERRACINA. 197 of order in every respect, and many of them with heaps of filth about the door- ways. I dare say that the inha- bitants now live in very nearly the same way as they used to at the time when Velletri was the dwelling-place of Augustus. But this, if such be the fact, does not say much for the ancients, and is not enough to recon- cile us to the habits of the moderns. The places we passed through to-day were not, to be sure, like A cqua^ pendente ; and the people do seem to be considerably less dirty than the Piemontese. Yet some of the best- looking and best-dressed of the people we saw in St. Peter's on the 19th of April were from Albano, Gen- zano, and Velletri ; and they do not, I am sorry to per- ceive, appear to any thing like the same advantage at home as they do when abroad. It seems that there is DO such thing as what we call a " country place'' in this whole country. The small towns or villages are so many cities in miniature ; they look like blocks of houses all taken up together and brought away from some larger place, and planted down in the country. 1th. Terracina. — Beautiful clear day (74). — From Velletri we descended from the mountains again, com- ing down upon an immense tract of perfectly level land. For some distance our road lay through a sort of scrubby forest ground. Where the land was cultivated, there were good crops of wheat, rye, oats, beans, and lupines. We soon came to the border of the Pontine Marshes, a part of the country which has become famous for the pestilence it produces. The road to Terracina runs 198 TERRACINA. through these marshes for about twenty-four miles. The road is excellent, for a great part of the way as strafglit as an arrow, and with rows of poplar trees on each side of it. Here there is a fine view of the lofty mountain Cir- ccBUSy mentioned by the poets in the voyage of iEneas. The marshes are by no means clear of water; large canals run alongside of the road, however, which keep it from being overflowed. Endeavours have been made, from time to time, from the age of Julius Caesar to the present, to lay these marshes dry. There is a fine road esta- blished ; but the country is still pestiferous, and must continue so, I suppose, for ever. There appears to be no means of getting rid of the water ; a great part of it is always stagnant, and gives rise to a fever during the latter part of the summer and the autumn, on account of which it is dangerous even to travel across the marshes for some months in the year. We are told by some that we are not quite safe in undertaking our present journey. The look of the marshes, however, is by no means alarming: they are really a fine piece of country, whatever may be the air breathed upon them; very different from what I had imagined, from the many accounts I have listened to of this deadly spot. Here is fine high grass contending with the strongest weeds. The whole of the Pontine Marshes belongs to a very few individuals; the greater part of them, I believe, to one person. But little of the land seems ever to have been broken up. Nevertheless, it is not unprofitable. The draining has succeeded so far as to admit of grazing TERRACINA. 199 cattle here. We see numerous herds of horn- cattle and horses, sometimes two or three hundred of these in one herd. The cattle are guarded by men who, at the hazard of their lives, have to remain on the marshes at all seasons of the year. They are dressed, after the manner of this part of Italy, in jackets and breeches of coarse linen ; they wear a hat with a very peaked crown ; a sort of stockings made of the same material as the upper gar- ments ; on the feet a sort of sandal (called ciocia), which is an oblong piece of leather, with the hair left on, the hairy side being worn outwards. There are six holes made in the sandal, one on each side of the toe, the same at the heel, and the same half way along the foot. A long tie, consisting of a slight piece of cord, is passed through these holes, brought over the instep, and, being drawn tight at the heel, the two ends of the tie are repeatedly crossed round the ancle and fastened at about half-way up the leg. These herdsmen are all mounted on horse- back, wearing a spur on one heel, and carrying a long pole to drive the cattle with; and they have dogs to assist them. There is something romantic in their appearance : to see one of them couching his pole like a lance, and gallopping off at full speed, you might take him for a knight errant, if you did not happen to see the stray cow or colt that he was in pursuit of. The horses that are bred on the marshes are said to be some of the best in Italy. The horn-cattle, of a light colour, are large and exceedingly handsome. They all appear to be very wild ; and well they may, for they are as nearly 200 TERRACINA. TERRACINA. 201 in a state of nature as possible. There are great numbers of the buffalo in the marshes ; some of these are perfectly wild, some of them are tamed, and used in harness. This Ifi a very ugly beast ; as ugly, too, in disposition as in form, for they attack people. It is aBout the size of an Alderney cow, entirely black, with horns about fourteen inches long turning down towards the face. When we were in the midst of the marshes, we stopped at a small inn to bait the horses. Not to bait ourselves, however; at least if we had expected any entertainment here we should have been disappointed at what we found. The landlord told us that he should be able to remain there only a certain time longer ; and then he must be off, for fear of ihe fever. The spot on which this little inn now stands is supposed to have been the site of the place called Forum-Appij no traces of which now remain. Horace mentions it, in his journey from Rome to Brundusium; and comparing his account with our experience, this neighbourhood does not seem to have undergone much improvement since Horace travelled here. The poet complains most bitterly of the bad water and wine, and of being kept awake by the frogs and mosquitos of the marshes. We can answer for the bad- ness of the water and wine ; and if we had put up for the night, as Horace did, we should certainly have had our share of the frogs and mosquitos. Terracina stands immediately on the sea. Here is an immense precipice of rock, overhanging the shore, at the top of which the original town (called Auxur) was situated. This might be a delightful place if the air were wholesome. But, though they have here all the benefit of every breeze from the sea, the looks of the people betray the influence of the marshes, which con- tinue as far as to this town. . The country-people hereabouts are all dressed in pretty much the same way as those herdsmen whom we saw to- day. A hat with pyramidical crown, rather broad in the brim, and one side of the brim turned up ; all the rest of the dress, jacket, breeches, and stockings, of coarse brown linen; and sandals on the feet. It is really a very handsome dress, as far as/orwi goes. In the parts of the country where the sandal is worn, the people are distin- guished by this article of their dress ; and all those who wear the ciocia are called ciocieri, , Terracina contains 9,000 inhabitants. Nevertheless, there is but one inn that is any way tolerable. This my itinerary calls ** une auberge magni/ique." There is, in- deed, travelling enough on this road to support a magnifi- cent hotel at this place. But the ** auberge magnifique" is a great dirty place, and the keepers of it are not attentive. They are as lazy and careless a set as 1 have ever met with. The house stands right on the shore. It is a pity that the tide does not flow^ through every one of its apartments during one half hour in every week ; for, one drop of fresh water never seems to have been spilt here for the purpose of washing. What they gave us to eat this evening, I can hardly tell. It was clear that there was macaroni in the soup ; but nothing else was to be known k5 202 SANT AGATA. by name; every dish had undergone such culinary transformation and mixture. Btk, Sant'Ag ATA.— Warm, fine day, with some rain in the afternoon (66).— We had a delightful ride to-day, coming through Fondiy Itri, Mola-di-Gaeta, and Ga- rigliano.—Om road, for the first three or four miles, was bounded by the sea on one side, and by a continuation of the mountain at Terracina on the other. Soon after leaving Terracina we entered the Neapolitan territory, passing through a strong gate, called Torre dei Confini, or Tower of the Frontiers, at which we were detained a short time to have our passports looked at. Coming to- wards Fondi, there was a small lake of stagnant water, and some marshy land,' which make all that neighbour- hood extremely unhealthy. The fever that the people are here subject to is, they say, a dreadful malady. More or less of it arises every year ; and to look at the people is quite sufficient to inform you of the pestiferousness of the air they breathe. Fondi and Itri have each four or five thousand inhabit- ants. These places are really shocking ; the latter parti- cularly. I have never seen so wretched a place as liri. The inhabitants, their streets, their houses, their dress, every thing about them is a spectacle that it is quite me- lancholy to behold. The state of filth in wliich the people live, and their poverty, in these two towns, are beyond all powers to describe. Indeed one might think that these poor creatures were suffering under some especial curse. Surely there can be nothing worse than this to SANT* AGATA. 203 be seen. If the charms of Italy are worth coming thus far to see, it is worth going as far to avoid seeing these her horrors. A minute description of Itri could hardly be credited. At that place we had to stop at a custom- house. We were surrounded, in a moment, by beggars who came in crowds; and among the rest came the pauper-like custom-house officers, who looked almost as miserable, and begged quite as hard, as any. It would, in some manner, be consolatory to find the surround- ing country all barrenness ; for that would suggest the least painful reason for the existence of so much human misery. But the country is all fine : as soon as we were away from the marshes, we came amongst hills of good land abounding in plantations of the vine and the fig-tree, and flourishing crops of corn. I hear that a large part of the population of Fondi and Itri are thieves, highway robbers, and that they have assisted in the robberies and assassinations committed by bands of men who, till very lately, have been permitted to attack tra- vellers and carry them off into the mountains. As we left Fondi and Itri we had some high moun- tains to come over. But the scenery, the shape of the land, and its cultivation, were, for the most part of the way, far exceeding in beauty any thing that I had been induced to look for between Rome and Naples. Neither the good nor the bad of this road have been justly spoken of by travellers. Mola-di-Gaeta is a sweet place. Just before you come to this, you see a lofty pile of stone and brick work, circular in form, and something 1 204 SANT AGATA. like a tower, which is supposed to stand on the spot at which the murderers of Cicero overtook him, and to have been raised as a memorial of that event. At Mola-di'Gaeta there is a little gulf, formed by a pro- montory of land which juts out into the sea, immediately on the point of which stands Gaeta, an episcopal town, with a citadel, and containing about 15,000 inhabitants. ^NEAS is said to have named the place after his nurse Cajeta, who was entombed on the spot; and Virgil has given it "eternal fame" in his tedious narrative of the hero's adventures : Tu quoque litoribus nostris, iEn'ea nutrix, ^ternam moriens famam, Cajeta, dedisti : &c. There is an excellent hotel at Mola-di- Gaeta, From the back windows you see Gaeta across the little gulf. This is the nicest inn that I have any where seen in Italy. The view it commands is most picturesque ; and the country around is most beautiful. Garigliano is a small place on the river Liris. The country all the way to Sant' Agata is fine. Here is a luxuriance in vegetation which nothing I have seen in other parts of Italy is equal to. The vines, from tree to tree, grow higher than I have seen any before. The fig-tree grows like a natural product of the soil; and the orange, lemon, and pomegranate, nearly the same. All the crops are good : wheat, Indian corn, rye, horse-beans, French -beans (or len- tils), and lupines. There is much Indian corn grown SANT AGATA. 205 here : the people make bread of it. But who can be in such a climate as this, who can see such a sky, and feel such a sun, as we have seen and felt to-day, and wonder to see every thing spring up and flourish as it does ? The district of country that we have been coming through, ig called Terra di Lavoro, Land of Labour : to see this country (forgetting all about Fondi and Itri), one might call it, some parts of it at least, the land of Paradise^ There is, however, a great deal to check your admiration of the country, in what you see about the people. I can- not help looking for nice country-houses, farm-houses, and cottages ; it seems impossible that such things should not be, where there are so many inviting spots to build them on ; yet I look for them in vain. The way of life, the being crammed up in a filthy little town or village, instead of living among the fields, this is all I find to dislike ; but not to dislike this is more than can be expected of the least prejudiced Englishman. Here, at Sanf Agata, we are in another nasty inn. It is a house standing at about a mile out of the town, and in a most agreeable situation. The house is quite full of travellers to-night ; every room is occupied. There must be, and must have been for some years past, a great deal of tra- velling on this road. The innkeepers must receive large sums of money ; and how it is that the inns are not more tolerable, I cannot think. — As we approached this place we could see the mountain on which, as is supposed, grew the vines that produced the wine called Falernian, the wine 60 much extolled by the ancient poets. But the 206 K4FLES. mouDtain yields no wiue, now-a-days, worthy of any particular praise. 9th, Naples (ia Italian Napoli).— A most beau- tiful day, and quite hot (75).— We came through Capua, a fortified town on the river Volturno, with a population of 18,000 ; and Aversa, a small episcopal town. Nothing could be more pleasant than our ride to-day, excepting only the clouds of dust that we were all the way involved in. The road from Rome to Naples is, all the way, almost every inch of it, remarkably good. Tlie materials of that part that we travelled to-day appeared to be the same as the upper soil of all the fields. The land here is very light, but it is not poor ; it cannot at least be called so, if we are to judge by what is seen growing upon it. The sun here seems sufficient to make the land bear almost any thing. The principal crops are wheat and Indian corn ; these, and rye, horse-beans, kid- ney-beans, lupines, oats, fig-trees, cherry-trees, plumb- trees, and vines, are seen growing all together. In some places the vines climb up the fruit-trees, and their shoots are trained from branch to branch ; and the form of this, and the mixture of foliage just at this time, are very beautiful. Within a few miles of Naples the vines are trained to elms or poplars, generally to poplars. Here are the words of Virgil's Georgics, and those of Horace's " Beatusille" in practice: the vine clinging to the elm-tree— the loftij poplar married to the vine. These trees are not closely headed down here ; they grow to their natural height, the side branches being lopped rpiii. iM\k •■ NAPLES. 207 away just enough to let in the sunshine between them. Only think of fifty or sixty acres of land in this way; high poplars standing in rows with wide intervals ; vines clambering up every tree, their long shoots led from the branches of one tree to those of another, crossing in all directions, some of them hanging down towards the ground. This is infinitely less formal, too, than what I have seen elsewhere ; the poplars are allowed to grow so high, and the vines, with their shoots crossing one above another, seem as if they had the power, by nature, of throwing themselves from tree to tree. One would sup- pose that the land must be sufficiently drawn upon by the vines and the impoverishing poplar-roots. Never- theless, there are luxuriant crops growing under the trees; capital wheat, now all out in ear and turning yellow ; fine Indian corn, planted in drills from two to three feet apart; besides oats and beans, and other things. Thus is the land cultivated, nearly the whole of it, for miles before you come to this city. The country was level ; we had nothing else in view on either side ; but what could be more delightful than to look, as far as the eye could carry, between the stems of the poplars, the bright sun shining through the lofty branches and shoots of the trees and vines, down upon Uie crops growing under them? This, I take it, is about the perfection of Italian agricul- ture. You do not here see such great care and neatness as about Lucca and some other places ; but if the industry and art of the Lucchesi are to be admired, what nature has done for the Neapolitan farmers is much more asto- 208 NAPLES. KAPLES. 209 Dishing.— There is a great deal of Indian corn grown about Naples. It is of a large kind here ; always planted in rows, and cultivated, not with the plough, but with a deep hoe. There are fine trees of the carob {ceratonia siliqua) in this country. The Italians call it carubbio. We have seen more or less of this tree everywhere in Italy. It bears a large pod, containing a hard seed, and a pulp that is very sweet. The pods are used as food for cattle. I have been told that the mules in Spain grow fat upon it. We did not see Naples until within a short distance of it. We entered a straight piece of road, on a gentle descent of about a mile and a half in length, with double rows of acacias in blossom on each side of it j at the end of this drive the carriage wheeled round to our right hand, and we looked down on Naples, having the city, its Bay, and Mount Vesuvius, all together in one view. As we came through the suburbs of this city, and coming into the city itself, the people were swarming ; I never saw such multitudes; the place seemed to be fairly leaping alive ; twas enough to make a Malthusian fall down with aflfright. A great part of the people of this country wear as little covering on their bodies as decency will permit; taking decenctj, too, in the Italian sense of the word. Hundreds of the children run about out of doors with nothing but a shirt to their backs, and many of them stark naked. lOM.— Fine, clear, hot day (77).— Naples stands right on the brink of its Bay, a beautiful gulf formed by a deep and expansive recess which there is here in the land . At a short distance without the Bay there are three islands, called Procida, Ischia, and Capri. The city, to be viewed from the sea, or from the sea-side at a dis- tance, is situated to the greatest advantage. It extends for a great distance along the side of the water, and the ground rises gradually from the shore to great height, a large part of the buildings standing on the side of a mountain that is so steep as for the ascent to be quite painful. The houses are immensely high, with flat roofs, and roost of the streets narrow. All that has been said of the famous street, the strada Toledo, is just, as far as relates to the people that fill it: such numbers, and such a motley crowd, and such confusion in every way, are, I dare say, to be seen no where else. But you must get somewhere out of the city, or somewhere to see more than any one street merely, in order to find much to admire. Every view of the city is beautiful, when you can see a large part of it at one time. It would be diffi- cult to build a place that should not be so, in such a situation as that of Naples. There is the appearance of great magnificence here. The king, Francis I., has a splendid palace on the edge of the Bay. He is a great fat fellow, and the ladies call him " Gros de NaplesJ* He appears to live in high pomp. When any of the Royal family go out from or return to the Palace, the circumstance is always proclaimed by a flourish of trum- pets. There is a great deal of military ostentation at Naples. The soldiers make more show, have a more 210 NAPLES. NAPLES. 211 costly a ppearance, than any soldiers I have ever seen, those of England only excepted. The Neapolitan soldiers are, too, very large and fine-looking men. The people iu tMi part of Italy are not considered to be comely ; the women, like the men, are large, but generally not hand- some. It is a saying, that when you see a pretty woman at Naples, you may set her down for a foreigner. How- ever, one would not think of the soldiers, to see them, that they deserved the character which they have ob- tained for a want of courage. They are big enough, at all events, whatever they may be in pluck. They look like the soldiers of a military government (which this government is), being finely dressed, and evidently as well fed. The population of this kingdom, including Sicily, is 7,420,000: the present standing army, 30,000: the King's revenue is nearly 4,000,000 of pounds ster- ling. The Neapolitan government is not much relished by the people ; and this more especially in Sicily, where the taxes are heavier than they are even at Naples. It is not long ago that there were some serious conspiracies against the government. I hear that there are now many of the conspirators imprisoned in this city, where they are likely to remain shut up. The barracks and the prisons are among the grandest edifices of this place. The Neapolitan rebels are called carbonari. There are some of the subjects of the Pope, also, that have a decidedly discontented way of thinking, and who are secretly proud of the title of carbonaro. Carbone is Italian for coal, for charcoal particularly, that being the chief fuel throughout Italy. The charcoal is made among the woody mountains ; and those who make it are called carbonari. When the political conspirators here were being pursued in all directions by spies and soldiers, they, in order to be able to appear in this city and other popu- lous places, put on the dress of the carbonari, and, blackening their persons with the dust of the material, they came down from their hiding-places in safety, driving before them mules with bags of charcoal on their backs. Hence it is that the Neapolitan radicals are called carbonari. The worst of treachery was shown by the carbonari towards one another ; and the most dread- ful examples were made of those who were betrayed or otherwise discovered ; they were shot, in different parts of the country, like wild beasts, or dragged off to dungeons without any hope of ever being free again. I hear that the spy-system is here in perfection. Every stranger that comes, and who is in the least suspected, has some one to watch every step he makes. But this must of neces- sity be the case in such a state of things. A visitor must not remain in Naples more than a very few hours, without applying to the police for a written license to remain ; and any housekeeper, entertaining a stranger who has not done this, is liable to a penalty. Every body has heard of the lazzaroni of Naples. Lazzarone has about the same meaning as sturdy vaga* bond. Lazzaro seems to have been the name ior pauper in this country ; just as lazzaretto was the name for the hospital w^herein the leprous, or the poorest diseased per- 212 NAPLES. sons, were relieved. The population of Naples is be- tween 4 and 500,000 : it is the most populous city in Europe, after London and Paris. It is said that there used to be as many as 40,000 of the lazzaroni alone. But Bonaparte pretty nearly abolished this class of the Neapolitans. There is, still, something remaining of them, but not much ; there is just enough to give you an idea of what they once were. I see some people, of both 6exes and of all sizes, on the quay, who answer to the descriptions of the lazzaroni, I believe most of the men are fishermen. They used formerly to sleep at the sides of the streets, or on the quays, in hutches^ like so many dogs. These lazzaroni are very bare in clothing, as indeed are all the common people of this country. They wear a shirt or a jacket of coarse linen, short trow- sers to the knee, a woollen night-cap on their heads, and nothing at all on their legs and feet. I see some of them with their hutches at the sea-side. They are the very picture of sloth ; not, however, of misery, for they are the most careless and independent-looking set of low people that I ever saw. Their complexions are as dark as those oi white people can be. The men lie sleeping on their backs, their faces exposed to the burning sun- shine, just as I have seen the lazy negroes do in America. There is no such thing as comparing the state oi paU' perism, in a country like this, with the same state in England. You cannot be in Italy long without perceiv- ing that those people, with their climate^ can never have half the wants that we have. The same quantity of NAPLES. 213 food goes a great deal further here than with us. The working people, or the paupers, do not require one-half so much clothing. As to lodging ^ the serenity of the climate causes the poor to be altogether negligent about their dwellings. Of food, the main thing of all, the poor people here want but little, and they eat of the sim- plest kind. There are thousands of them who hardly ever eat any thing but macaroni. This is eaten every- where in Italy, and a great deal of it ; at Naples it is, perhaps, the chief sustenance. The people here bear the character of extreme disinclination to labour. But this seems to have always been the case: " otiosa Nea- poliSf* idle Naples, was proverbial among the ancients. They are content with little, but they have no care for the future ; the " quid sit futurum eras, fuge qucererCy* to be free of all thought of the morrow, is a piece of advice that they put in practice ; and they enjoy all they have as far as it will go, like the Indians, who begin to hunt not before they are urged to pursue their game by hunger. An English gentleman tells me a good anecdote to illustrate this. It is common in Italy, as in France, for men to have their shoes shined in the streets, and the shoe-blacks go about the streets carrying a little box, which serves both to carry the blacking and brushes and as a stool to put the foot on. The Englishman, happen- ing one day to see a boy who was in the habit of cleaning his boots lying asleep in the street against the wall of a house, his box serving him for a pillow, he gave the fellow a shove with his foot, and told him he wanted his boots 214 MAPLES. NAPLES. 215 II blacked. " No, Signore;' said the Neapolitan, turning found and recognising his employer with half-open eyes « iVo, Signore: ho gid mangiato" (No, Sir : I have had my dinner !) Maccaroni, like vermicelli, is only one of the forms into which the Italians make what they call ''•pasta;' or paste. It requires a particular sort of wheat, a brittle, flinty grain, to make this pasta; a wheat the flour of which is never used for bread. The manufacture is very simple. The paste is made, I am told, with nothing but lour and water ; and when put into the form required, it is dried and hardened in the sun. The macaroni is made (as we have all seen it when brought to England) in small, hollow sticks, exactly like the tube of a common tobacco-pipe. The sticks are generally made about thirty inches in length ; and they are dried by throwing them over poles, which are fixed up, for the purpose, before the houses of those who manufacture this article. While we were stopping in Capua, on our way hither, we saw the process of making macaroni. The weather was very warm, the doors of the shop were open ; and the men at work were going about with not a stitch of clothes on their bodies, excepting just a short piece of linen tied round the middle. The way in which they treated the dough was not very delicate : there was a quantity of it in a large tub, and one of the fellows standing in the tub and kneading the pasta with his naked feet !— Macaroni is eaten in all sorte of ways. But the common way, the way of the poorer people, is to eat it boiled in water, and with cheese grated over it. A man may thus get his dinner for three half-pence sterling. One of the curi^ osities in Naples is to see the people eat macaroni. There are shops on purpose for selling of this food by the plate-full. They do not here break the macaroni into pieces before it is put to boil ; so that, being very tough, it goes into the pot like sticks, and comes out like strings. The Neapolitan takes the plate, lays hold of its contents with his fingers, and^ beginning with a mouthful at the end of fifteen inches of macaroni, he keeps drawing the food out of the plate as he chews. 1 1 th, — The same beautiful weather (77) : at ten o'clock at night (66). — From the window of our lodging we can see Vesuvius, There is continually more or less of smoke rising above the top of the mountain, and at night there is now a little flame to be seen. These appear- ances are constantly varying. A total cessation of both flame and smoke, lasting for some time together, is looked upon as the forerunner of a serious eruption. We went this morning to see the Tomb of Virgil ; what, at least, is called his tomb. Some antiquaries have doubted whether it be so or not; but they cannot have a very great respect for the name of Virgil, or they would hardly endeavour to destroy this illusion, supposing it to be one, by a display of their own science. Every thing about the spot is so much to be admired, that the mere belief of his being laid here is enough to ensure the poet's immortality. The tomb is just at the extremity of the suburbs of the city. To go 11 216 NAPLES. NAPLES. 217 to it we went for about a mile aud a half alongside of tlie sea. The houses facing the sea are very fine. At one part, for nearly three quarters of a mile, the street is called Chiaja, For those who like to live in sight of the sea, this is the most delightful place of town-residence that can be : a spacious street before the houses, and, between the street and the shore, a garden, called Villa ReaUy of about three quarters of a mile in length, nicely laid out with gravel walks shaded by trees, and orna- mented with statues. One side of the garden runs all the way close upon the sea. See the trees and shrubs growing here, and you cannot help wondering at the climate of Naples. Here, exposed to all the sea wind, the oleander is now in full blossom, and growing to a large size in the open ground. This, on account of its situation, is the finest promenade that 1 have ever seen : it beats the gardens of Paris all to nothing. At a short distance beyond the Villa Reale we came to the hill of Pausilippo, through whick m cut what is called the Grotto of PausilippOy an under-ground road for car- riages, a sort of tunnel, three quarters of a mile long, perfectly straight, fifty feet high, and more than thirty feet wide. The work of the Grotto is attributed to the ancient Romans. To mount the hill we had to go up a very steep zig-zag path, which brought us to the door of a large garden. There was a person to keep the door, who led us through the garden, a rich piece of irregular ground, amongst vines, fig-trees, and other fruit-trees, and gourds and cud^Miers already spreading two feet in diameter in the open air. The tomb, which is ap- proached by a rugged path, has been described as resem- bling a small chapel ; such it is supposed to have been once; but it is now a mere heap of unshaped stones and earth. There is a small square room on the inside of it, which you may enter. The tomb stands on the brink of a precipice, and you look down from it into the road just' at the entrance to the Grotto. We are told that Virgil, and others of the poets, besides some of the most opulent of the Romans, used to reside on the hill of Pausilippo ; that it was " at once the monarch's and the muse's seat." From a terrace that there is in the garden, you see over the greater part of Naples and its Bay, and have a splendid view of Vesuvius and the other mountains around. The name of the hill, Pausilippo, or Posilipo, is derived from a Greek term, signifying the absence of sorrow: and no wonder that the name should be here conferred, such is the beauty of this spot and the grandeur of the views it commands. I'lth — Same weather (67). — Just returned from Porn- peii (or Pompeia) and Herculaneum. These places, and the Mount that has done them so much mischief, are the great objects of curiosity at Naples. Pompeii is about fourteen miles from the city, and little more than a mile from the sea. The road runs between the foot of Vesuvius and the sea, passing through a town called Portici, and other places, Resini, Torre del Greco, and Torre della Nunziata: all of which are, in fact, a continuation of Naples along the shore. Pompeii is said m in 218 KAPLES* to have sustained great injury from an earthquake in the year 63, ^vas buried in 79 by a great eruption of Vesu- Tius, and lay completely hidden until 1751, when some peasants who were digging over the ruins in a vineyard, discovered something of the lost town. Pompeii, though as much as six miles from Vesuvius, was buried by an immense quantity of ashes and pumice, which, along with boiling-hot water, were vomited in this direction by the mounuin. For miles around, the country looks like a great bed of ashes and ciifders. Yet it is not altogether unproductive: poplar-trees, vines, wheat, rye, and peas, are all growing immediately around the ruins of Pom- peii ; growing, I dare say, up07i a large part of the town ; for it is supposed that there still remain a great many houses under ground. There are various opinions as to the origin of the towns destroyed by Vesuvius; but the great lapse of time, the fact that these places were buried for so many hundred years, and that the towns are now to be seen, must render them almost the greatest, if not the very greatest, curiosities in the world. Some of the ancient historians suppose that Pompeii was originally built by Hercules, and that the city has owed its name to the triumph {pompa) with which he entered this city, bringing with him the heads of the treble-bodied Ceryones : ■ Nam raaximus ultor. Tergemini nece Geryonie spoUisque superbus, Alcides aderat. All that is left at Pompeii is taken great caxe of. The NAPLES. 219 place is constantly guarded, and no one is allowed to enter the ruins unaccompanied by a guide. The roofe have, in great part, been destroyed 3 but every wall haa had a little roof placed over it. It is a pity, however^ that any thing should have been taken away from this place. The statues found here, the pictures from the w^alls, the furniture, the utensils of all sorts, most of what was portable has been carried off to the Museum in Naples. There were not many human skeletons found among the ruins, and very little money, or very valuable goods ; which shows that but few of the inhabitants perished in consequence of the eruption of the mountain, and that they must have afterwards disinterred some parts, at least, of their city. The streets are straight, and narrow. The houses are small, and few of them appear to have been above one story in height. The streets are very curious. They are just as perfect as if made only yesterday. There are raised walks on each side of the street for foot-passengers, just as we have ia England ; and before those houses which belonged to the principal citizens these walks are paved with marbles, mosaic, or some other showy material. The pitching in the middle of the street is precisely like that in our streets, only that the stones (pieces of lava) are very large^ and irregular both in shape and size. This pitching seems to have been here for a great many years before the city was buried ; for the wheels have made complete ruts in the stones. The ruts are at such a small distance apart (about four feet) that the carriages, it l2 J 220 NAPLES. NAPLES. 221 appears, must have been very narrow. In some places there are high stones placed, at interrals across the street, for foot-passengers to step across by in rainy weather. There are two theatres laid open, one a tragic, the Other a comic theatre ; a very large amphitheatre ; a tnbtmal, or court of justice ; temples, of his, of Jupiter, of Venus, of Esculapius, of Hercules ; a market-place ,- an academy of music; a pantheon: two forums ; mau- soleums, with urns containing the ashes of the dead ; a public hotel ,- a post-house ; a house supposed to have been a coffee-house. Some of the houses, those of the higher ranks of the people, must have been very elegant. The walls of all the houses are built of lava^ a sort of stone that comes red-hot from the crater of Vesuvius. On the inside, the walls are almost all covered with stucco, plastered exceedingly smooth, and painted. The pictures on the stucco are tastefully executed. These pictures are very interesting, from their great age and the freshness which many of them still retain. They represent a variety of subjects; landscapes, portraits, and figures of different animals. There are pictures of deer-hunting and boar-hunting, which are full of life. All the rooms are paved with mosaic ; it appears to have been fine or coarse according to the degree of the house- holder. Figures are represented in the mosaic, which is of two colours, white and black. On the floor of one house there is a wild boar surrounded by hounds and hunters. At the door- way of another house there is a large black dog; at another door- way you read, " Cave canem" (Beware of the dog) , wrought in mosaic; at another, "Salve" (Welcome). Some of the houses have numbers on them, and the names of some of the shop- keepers and of their trades are written up with red paint. On the outer wall of one house, supposed to have been a butcher's shop, you see the picture of a pig s head, a string of sausages, and some ribs of pork or mutton. This painting looks fresh enough to have been done only a few years back. There are marks, made with some material of red or black colour, against the outsides of the public buildings : these are all looked upon as .pro- clamations, advertisements, &c. but they are not all legible ; and some of these scribblings may, I think, be reasonably attributed to the Pompeian boys. There are houses that belonged, evidently, to bakers ; you see the ovens for baking the bread, and stone mills for grind- ing the corn, both together. The pantheon, and some of the temples, appear to have been magnificent places. You may now see the altars at which the heathen priests officiated, and on which they made their burned offerings. The temple of Isis (a goddess of the Egyptians) is very curious. Here are seen the altars to offer the sacrifice upon ; places on which the devoted animal was slaugh- tered, made rather sloping, and with a little spout at one side, in order to catch all the blood ; and you may see a hiding- bole by the altar, and near to where the statue of the goddess was placed, whence the priests used to pronounce the oracles which the statue itself was sup- ^1 ^ . I^i: 222 VAPLES. NAPLES. 223 posed to utter. Among the discoveries is that of the liouse of a sculptor, in which were found the tools of hig art, blocks of marble to be worked upon, and pieces of sculpture, some quite finished and others partly so, Pompeii was enclosed with a high and strong wall, built of tufo, a volcanic stone. The wall extended for nearly three miles in circumference, and a great part of it may now be seen. 13M. — Same weather (77). — As we returned from Pompeii yesterday afternoon, we stopped at Resina to Wk with Mr. Salvatore Madonna, a man who lives there, and whose business it is to guide people to the top jof Mount Vesuvius. He settled with us to be in readi- ness to start at midnight; so that we might have dark- ness to see the eruption more clearly, and see the run rise ifom the top of the mountain. Some people ascend the mountain just before sunset, and return in the dark. We went back to Resina again at eleven o'clock last Jiight; and after stopping a little while at the house of the guide, we set out. It is customary to ride, on asses or mules; the guides walk, however; and the journey on foot is but a trifle for a strong man. Some travellers sleep at the house of Salvatore ; but we avoided doing this, as every thing about his mansion seemed to promise bugs and fleas in still greater abundance than we have had to feel them in Naples. There are a great many asses about Resina, kept, at this season, in constant ijeadiness for visitors. Salvatore, the principal guide, has a certain number in his own stable, but not enough to serve every body ; so that there is much competitioa among the neighbouring donkey-proprietors. When wc were about to mount, the clamour, arising from the rival- ship between these fellows, beat every thing of the kind that I have ever witnessed. There had been particular steeds saddled for our use, and particular men appointed to guide us. But a whole drove of donkeys, each one belonging to a different man, were brought to the door, in order, if possible, to cut them out. Every fellow wa^ abusing all the rest, and praising the virtues of his owa ass, while he beat it to bring it closer to us. Each beast was so shoved about as to be as unfixed as a wave. There was thumping and kicking, and bawling and bray- ing, a storm of noise and confusion, that continued for a» much as ten minutes before we could get away. The ascent towards the top of Vesuvius begins im- mediately after leaving Resina. I should think that the distance, altogether, must be about six miles. Our asses carried us by such a path as I was quite astonished to look at this morning by daylight; a path of light earth or ashes, full of large abrupt rocks and stones, some fixed and some loose ; over and amongst which my don- key picked his way as handily as a cat. Vesuvius is situated with the Apennines on one side and the sea on the other. There are two other mountains, Somma and Ottojano, which are supposed to have been formerly embodied with Vesuvius, the three all forming one moun- tain. There is one common base for the three moun- tains, which is about thirty miles in circumference. •'J ■I r' I 224 NAPLES. NAPLES. 225 It is supposed that some of the early eruptions separated the tops of the three mountains from each other. The height of Vesuvius is nothing very great; there are higher mountains within sight of it. For a certain dis- tance our path lay amongst vineyards ; and there were various kinds of fruit-trees and crops growing upon the ashes and amongst the huge stones that have been thrown from the crater. Then we came to some scrubby coppice-wood. And finally, after leaving a hermitage, which stands at about three parts of the way up, we came to the foot of the cone, or pyramidical top of the mountain, where there is nothing but stones and lava and ashes. Here we had to leave our donkeys, riding any further being impracticable. We were two hours coming from Resina to where we dismounted. And to walk up the cone, which is said to be a mile (but is not above half as much) took us about twenty minutes. This, however, was twenty minutes of difficult scrambling. The ascent is extremely steep, all consisting, too, of a deep bed of ashes and loose stones. Some persons can- not walk up at all without being assisted by the guides, and others are carried in a sedan chair. Women are generally carried. Our guides brought large torches with them from Resina. These would have been neces- sary all the way, if the moon had not been shinino- • but they did not light them till we entered upon this last stage of the journey. While Murat was King of this country, he once tried to take his horse to the top of Vesuvius ; but he found it impracticable, the horse could go only about half way up the cone. The point of the mountain is stated to be 3.900 feet above the level of the sea When we arrived at the top it was still quite dark, so that we could plainly see all the fire that was issuing from the crater. There was but little, compara- tively speaking, to be seen last night : nevertheless, that little was something quite new to us, and, at the same time, a beautiful sight. To look down into the crater is like looking into an immense, deep, round pan, leaving out of consideration all little irregularities in shape. The edge is irregular, some parts of it being much higher than others, and consisting of large masses of loose rock amongst the cinders. The inner sides of the crater are not perpendicular, but shelve inwards considerably. The bottom of it is perfectly flat, being like a little plain of land After being amongst scenery like that of Naples for some time, it becomes difficult to trust to the eye alone in judging of the dimensions of objects Uke this. 1 am told that to walk all the way round the edge of the crater of Vesuvius, you must go three miles and a half; some say /our miles. The tour is a very arduous and rugged one, and not to be performed, as our guide told us in less than from an hour and a half to two hours. Yet, on merely looking across and around the edge, as far as I was able from the spot where we were, I should have supposed the distance to be much less. The depth from the edge down to the plain, cannot, as it appeared to me, be more than 250 feet, though they say it is more. This, however, is for ever subject to the greatest varia- l3 1 n til '1 n « "1 226 NAPLES. NAPLES. 227 tion. An account which I read of the state of the moun- tain in 1826 says, that at one part the depth was iu that year 1,200 feet, at another part as much as 2,000 feet. ,The plain at the bottom of the crater, the bottom of the pan (if I may so call it), may be said to be nearly quite smooth all over ; and this Is a floor consisting always of the solid lava, just as it subsides and becomes hard at the €nd of every succeeding great eruption. The floor is sometimes so solid, and it is now, that you may go down and walk upon it with safety. There are cracks in dif- ferent places : through some of them you may see red-hot fire only a few inches beneath ; some of them emit little volumes of smoke, and others steam. To those who have not studied the nature of volcanoes, it is strange to see signs of water where Jire has been raging for so many ages ; yet here is a continual contention between the two elements. The Neapolitans call the crater " La cuctna del diavolo " (The devifs kitchen). I asked our guide what he supposed was doing underneath. " No doubt," said he, ** it is the devils cooking macaroni." The part where the eruption now takes place is just in the centre of the plain, where there is the appear- ance of a little Vesuvius ; a large conical heap of cin- ders, at the top of which there is a hole, or small crater, which is now vomiting smoke, ashes, cinders, and small stones. The cinders, when cold, are black, hard, and heavy, much resembling those which come from melted iron ore. The eruption, however small it may be, is always accompanied by loud noise within the crater. This noise, as we heard it, was not continuous ; it oc- curred at irregular intervals of a minute, or two or three minutes, and was just like the discharge of fire-arms at a distance. The eruption itself is irregular, like the noise; and I observed, that immediately after each noise fresh matter was thrown up with additional force. The cinders, stones, &c., all rise into the air perfectly red-hot, amidst a glowing flame, and to the height, perhaps (at this time), of about 70 or 80 feet ; and then they fall rolling down round the sides of the growing heap as fiery as when they came out of the crater. It is really a very beautiful sight, worth taking the trouble to climb so far to behold ; though, to be sure, the present appearances of Vesuvius can give us no idea of a great eruption. What must it be, when the lava boils up so far as to overflow the edges of the crater, and runs in streams, like rivers of fire, to the bottom of the mountain ! The first eruption that has been recorded was that of 79, which destroyed Pompeii. Herculaneum, and another town called Stabia. This eruption has been described by Plin v the younger, whose uncle was stifled by approaching the mountain too nearly. Thirty-six great eruptions are stated to have occurred, from the year 79 up to the present time Dur- ingthat which occurred in 1631, the column of smoke that rose from the crater was calculated to be tlnrty ^i/es in height. It is supposed, that if all the matter, the cinders, ashes, stones, lava, &c., thrown from Vesuvius since its first eruption, were all collected together, the heap would be four times the size of the mountain itself. m "i i- 2?8 NAPLES. NAPLES. 229 One historian asserts, that the eruption of 472 filled all Europe with ashes, and produced such an alarm at Con- stantinople (750 miles off), that the then Emperor, Leo, abandoned the city. It is certain that there must have been great eruptions long before the year 79, since those very cities which were buried in that year are mainly composed of volcanic materials. The substances thrown from the crater, or found in it, are of many different kinds: the ores of iron, copper, and silver, are said to be sometimes found. There are various crystalli- zations ; great quantities of sulphur, which you may pick up in the crater in the shape of cinders, quite yellow in colour. There are many sorts of stone, slate, granite, and limestone, among the number. Some of the ashes, as analysed by chemists, have been ascertained to have gold in their composition. Warm as the weather now is, we felt itt air keen on the top of the mountain ; and while waiting for day-break we were glad of the presence of a little boy, who had come with us from the hermitage on the speculation of selling a bottle of wine, which he knew would be of use to us before we knew it ourselves. This wine was of the kind called LacrymcB Christi, the reputation of which has arisen from its being the produce of the land of Mount Vesuvius. It is made only from the vines which grow on the side of this mountain. There is a red and a white LacrymcB Christi : the latter is by far the best of the two. They are both strong, and both partake of the nature of the soil in one respect; they are ipare( remarkably ^cry, complKd with any other Italian wine that I have tasted. The red is so hot in flavour as to be rather disagreeable. We stopped until the sun had risen to some height. The morning was as fair, as clear, and as tranquil, as can possibly be. The view was the most glorious imagin- able. Not, indeed, imaginable at all. There is no such thing as conceiving it in any way without seeing it ; and I would not advise any traveller to avoid going to the top of Vesuvius, if he have an opportunity to get there. We were twelve or thirteen miles from Naples, by the road we had come ; yet the city, and the bay, and all around for miles distant, appeared to be so nearly under- neath our feet as if we could almost jump down upon them. As we came up the cone, our guides, with their torches lighted, conducted us as much as possible where there were stones, so that the feet might have something to hold by ; to ascend through the bare ashes would be hardly practicaule. But coming down again, we fol- lowed them through a bed of pure ashes, into which we sunk nearly up to our knees, holding back with diflSculty. A large body of ashes moved downwards with each step, and one step told for three. A boy, who set off before us, was down at the bottom where our donkeys were standing almost as quickly as a bird could fly. This expedition cost us but a trifle : we paid about 5s. to the two guides who went with us, and 2«. for each of our donkeys. We stopped at Resina to see the ruins of Herculaneum, Hi ■i i ii 230 KAPLIS. from which have heen taken some of the finest statues that are preserved in the Museum of Naples. These ruins are nothing like so interesting as those of Pompeii, Nearly all that is to be seen of them is many feet under ground, and you can see them only by the light of torches ; while every thing at Pompeii is thrown open to the air and the day-light. The excavations at Hercu^ laneum were filled up again, as fast as they were made, in order to build the houses which now form the towns of Portici and Resina, so that little remains to be seen. Besides which, Herculaneum was covered either with solid lava, or with cinders which are said to have become consolidated by the hot water that was showered along with them. We were conducted down steps, cut out of matter, which looks like solid stone, to the depth of 80 feet or more. We saw the benches and the stage of a theatre, which were laid perfectly bare. A man led us along a great distance of winding passages, passing through which we could hear the carriages over- head, rattling on the street of the modern town. This city was first discovered in 1713, by a man in Portici, who was sinking a well, when he had got to about 30 feet down. \4th. — A fine warm rain (67). — See the Museum, which contains an almost endless variety of curiosities, amongst others a large collection of pictures, and statues from different parts of Italy. But what renders this Museum most curious is, the objects here preserved which have been brought from the buried cities of Pompeii, Herculaneum, and Stabia, Twenty days would hardly m NAPLES. 231 suffice to see all that is here collected. Here are some of the most celebrated works of the ancient sculptors. The walls of one large hall are covered with paintings, which have been removed, along with the plaster on which they are painted, from the walls of Pompeii and Hercu^ laneum. The subjects of these pictures are very various : many relate to mythological history ; some of them are pictures of animals, admirably painted ; some are cari- catures, or representations of absurdities in imagination ; there are pictures of little people with big heads, just like what we see in the print shop in London ; one of them is a pretty little sketch of an old woman feeding chickens. I wonder that these paintings have not been more spoken of. The things collected from the buried cities are almost innumerable; and these are really objects of curiosity, since they give so much indubitable information relative to the people of this country in ancient times. There are implements, utensils, and different kinds of household fur- niture, which occupy a large part of this krge Museum. The following are peculiarly interesting, as the purposes of most of them are so familiar to every body. Pots and Kettles. --Moulds of various shapes, sup- posed to have been used in the making oi pastry.-^ Stewing-Pans, Fryingpans, and Gridirons. — Brass Saucepans, some of which are lined with silver. — The Gallipots and Bottles of a Pompeian apothecary. — Musical Instruments. — Ink-stands, with the ink dried up in them.— il Lanthorn, i> 232 NAPLES. gtazed with horn. — Children's playthings,^ Door-locks and Keys, Hinges, Bolts, Latches, Nails and Screws.— Tickets for admission to the theatres.Sells for the necks of the cattle.^ i Glasses to drink out of— Lares, or House^ hold Gods.— Earthenware Plates and Dishes, — A great variety of Gold Ornaments and trinkets; Necklaces, Ear-rings, Finger-rings, Brooches, and Bracelets.— Rouge for the cheeks of the ladies (to keep the ladies of our day in couutensLncel).-^ Bridle-bits and Stirrups.^ Dice for gaming.—- ^ca/cs and Weights, and brasa Steel-yards. — Colours used by the painter s.^^ Pieces of Window - glass.— Smelling - bottles.— Knives used in sacrifices.— Cups and Saucers of silver, and Silver Spoons.^ Surgical Instruments. — A piece of Honey-comb, some Loaves of Bread, Olives and other Fruits, Grain of diflPerent sorts, and other Eatables, most of which are burned to cinders. In the temple of Isis at Pompeii, there was found a table on which were fragments of victuals, bread, fowls, eggs, and other things. The spot in which these were, is supposed to have been the dining-room of the priests of the Temple; and a skeleton, probably that of a priest, was discovered near the table. 15M.— Beautiful day (74).— We went out again to Herculaneum this morning, to see the remains of a house I NAPLES. 233 that have just been brought to light. Fresh discoveries are constantly being made at this place and at Pompeii. The notions about witchcraft or enchantment formerly entertained by the people of this country, have not yet disappeared. The common people, the little children in particular, wear a chain or string round the neck, bearing an amulet of some kind, and I observe that mothers are careful to put this round the necks of their babies. The amulet, at Naples, is generally a little piece of coral in the shape of a horn. A woman, of whom I asked the reason for this to-day, told me that it was to keep off the " maV occhio " (the evil eye), the very same charm that was dreaded by the ancients. The lava of Vesuvius is a stone, varying both in de- gree of hardness and in colour ; the most distinct colours are grey, or slate colour, and white. The curiosity of the thing has caused the people of Naples to make great quantities of trinkets, necklaces, boxes, seals, crosses, and rings, of this material. Some of these trinkets are pretty, and they are not dear. 16^^.— Same weather (77): at nine o'clock at night (67). This morning we went on an excursion along the western shore of the Bay of Naples. This is treading on what the school-boys call " classic*' ground. Within a few miles of Naples, in this direction, there are many different curiosities to be seen in a short space of time. We passed through the Grotto of Pausilippo, and after going for five or six miles, amongst vines and crops cul- tivated in the beautiful Neapolitan fashion, we arrived at !i'. 1 234 VAtLtS. the edge of the Bay. T«ro miles further on we came to Pozzuoli, a rery ancient place, wliich once belonged to the ancient Romans, who called it Puteoli, from the wells which were dug here. Puteoli, though at present bear- ing but a shabby appearance, was much admired by the Romans for its sitnation. Some of the most wealthy of them had magniacent houses here. Cicero called it a little Rome. There are the remains of two an- tique temples at Pozzuoli. One of them, originally dedicated to Octavian Augustus, is now the cathednj church ; the other, the temple of Serapis. is a ruin, but seemingly once very grand. Pozzuoli is famous for its harbour. Here is a beau- tiful little bay, formed, on one side, by the town, which jots out for some distance with a mole of considerable length, and on the other by Cape Misenus. The land, all the way round from Pozzuoli to the point of the' Cape, about three miles, is full of objects of interest. We hired a boat in the harbour, and after rowing half a mile came to the lake Lucrino (Lucnnus). This lake is only just off the shore; it communicates with the sea by a ditch of but a few yards in length. It is now nothing more than a small fish-pond in size. At about three hundred yards further inland is the lake Averno (Avernus). Avemus is a small lake, or, more properly speaking, a large pond. The water is dark, and apparenUy stagnant. Its sides are covered with trees. And here, at one side of the lake, is a dark sub- terraneous passage, which as some think, was the an. NAPLES. 235 irum, or cave, of the Cum^an Sibyl. The lake iacrt- ,^us was nearly filled up, in 1538, by an earthquake ; and the same earthquake, accompanied by volcanic eruption, is said to have formed a mountain, which is hard by, called, on account of its sudden appearance, Monte Nuovo (New Mountain). We got into our boat again, and proceeded a few hundred yards further to some caverns in the side of high land overhanging the shore, which are called the Baths of Nero. In these caverns there is a spring of water, the only curiosity about them, which is hot enough to cook an egg. At about another mile further is the site and some remaining ruins of the ancient town of Sai- htans. The most amusing of all U, tlillt tie S^^ciy accuses them of being dirty ! I tell hiu. that Ih disguU reminds me of our saying about the pot UJ>d the hctdc^ The Neapolitans bear the character of bciaj 4i$haMid of their name. This, to be sure, is no piroolof tbeir Uonrtiy- A young man, who lodges in the same housi! where if* have been living here, and who went uith «i CO Vcsursn^ has been making me believe that he wai a Frtuchmin for these last four days. I could not detect liii impcelarc by his language; but the Roman suAptctcd him frooi thft first. Why he should pass for any thing other thaa ho is, I do not know ; unless he be a (.py, uhich tf not Un- probable. This is a species of deceit which ihcy cvukn themflolveB to he in the habit of praaiwng oo ♦trani;c«. There arc six or ficvcn theatres in Itiis city. Tmx> of i i II I J 246 NAPLES. them are opened twice during each twenty-four hours, so much are the people given to play-going. The principal theatre, San Carlo, is a very fine building, about equal to our Opera-house in London. In the theatre of San Carlino (Little St. Charles) there is an exhibition peculiar to Naples, that of Pullicinella, or Punch as we call it. The part of Punch is not merely acted by a puppet, as we see it in England ; it is introduced in many different little farces which are represented on the boards of the San Carlino. Pullicinella^ in these pieces, is something similar to the clowns in the comedies of Shakspeare and other old play-writers. The play, however, is always a broad farce ; and the acting and dialogue are most animated and rapid. Pullicinella talks in the Neapolitan dialect ; so that it is difficult for us to understand any thing he says ; but the people are delighted with his performance. He acts like a simple- ton, but utters all sorts of drolleries, and keeps the audience constantly laughing. The biographers of Punch have traced his history back to ancient times. This very neighbourhood is supposed to have given birth to him. At an ancient town called Atella, near Capua, there were formerly comedians, who became celebrated by the poets and historians for their buffoonery ; and to their stage our London Punch is said to owe his origin. —These people are charmed with every thing in the way of amusement; and I dare say they enjoy more of it, and in greater variety, than any other people in the world. They are fond of music, poetic fables, and the romance H NAPLES. 247 of their country's history. This taste is not confined to the rich or the well-educated. The common people, the lazzaroni, may be seen crowding round a professor of poetry in the street, who bawls out the cantos of Orlando Furioso, and accompanies the recitation by his own spiegazioni, or interpretations of Auiosto. In this city there are three hundred churches, but few of them are very fine. One, however, San Martino, is much spoken of. This church is not large, but it is one of the most rich and most splendid in Italy. It contains some fine pictures, marbles, carved work, and altars decorated with precious stones. Its splendour is enough to dazzle you, even after the seeing of St. Peter's. San Martino stands in a situation the most commanding, perhaps, of the whole neighbourhood of Naples. It is at the highest extremity of the city, with a long and very steep ascent leading to it from the lower streets. Oa this spot formerly stood the country house of the king. In 1325 a church and monastery were here erected and endowed; in 1807 the monastery was suppressed, and converted into barracks ; and the place is now the habi- tation of invalid soldiers. Very near the church is the castle of Sane Ermo or Sant' Elmo, a fortress in the finest possible position, on the summit of the mountain, overlooking the whole of the city and the bay. The castle is very strong, and is kept up in grand style, with a formidable artillery and a large garrison. We climbed up the mountain this morning to see the beautiful monas- tery and the view from it. As we approached the castle 1^ fe bil l > i * a V U 248 TERRACINA. 249 KAi*t£S* by a Winding path , we had to pass several stations of sentinels. We inquired the way of these military gen- tlemen ; but they understood neither Italian nor French ; they were all German s^ and could speak their native language only. This is the policy of the Neapolitan government, to guard itself with foreigners who are incapable of exchanging a word with the people they are brought to keep in subjection. Blackstone, who takes us by storm with bis eloquent description of our rights^ and to read whose book is enough to make us glory in our freedom while we hear the chains of our slavery rattle about us, says that ive do not bear the burden of stand- ing armies in time of peace, because OUR LAWS do not allow it. But, if we make comparisons, if we think of Engla7idy when we see these raw German troops at Naples, must we not be induced to doubt the vhtue of all forms of government, and to conclude, with Pope, in spite of all LAW to the contrary, that whatever^s best administered is best ? My memory, to be sure, may naturally be more alive than that of most others would ; since I can remember the interior of Newgate, and cannot forget that the presence of German soldiers in England was a circumstance connected with the expe- rience. Those English travellers who see such signs of slavery here, who pretend to despise the Italians for bear- ing it, who know any thing of the history of England for the last twenty years, and who, at the same time, can think of their own country without any feelings of shame and indignation, must be base indeed, and the govern- ment of the Neapolitans is infinitely better than what such Englishmen deserve to suffer under. I dare say that the Germans at Ely could speak as little English as the fellows here do Italian ; that they had as little sym- pathy with the people is pretty clear, from their being not only able to look at, but bror.ght to superintend and enforce, the scourging of Englishmen's backs. Talk of « military despotism," indeed! with what face can we reoroach other countries with this, and boast our own freedom from it, while we remember the flogging of English local militia men under a guard of the hireling Germans ; and while we remember the sentence of our famous LAW OF LIBEL on the Englishman, who, for having remonstrated against such a scene, was sent from the Court of King's Bench to be shut up for two years in company with the felons of Newgate ? mh. Sant' AOATA.-Very fine, and hot (77).— Thus far on our way back to Rome.-The police appear rather to discourage travelling in the people. At dif- ferent offices where I liave attended about the business of my passport, I have heard Italian travellers very closely questioned as to their callings, their motives for leaving home, the business they were going about. My compa- nion (a young man of twenty-three years of age) was not permitted to go from Rome without his father's leave. The police required that the father should be, in a manner, answerable for the son. 19tA. Terracin A.-Fine day, with rain in the after- noon (70). The weather that we have had since we left M 5 li I •! ^Hni^\ I fm ROME. €i Rome has been as warm as that of the finest weather that the English have in July or August— The Indian corn about Naples is now about two feet high. 20th. Velletri.— Fine day: rain at night (75).— . Hay*making is now going on about here. 21 r St. Rome. — A severe storm of thunder and light- ning, and rain (66). 22wc?.— Rainy day, but warm (67). 23rG?.— Fair (74). 24^A.— Very fine (76).— To-day we see the Pope take possession" as it is called. He rode in proces- sion to the church of St- John, and there took possession of *' the keys of the kingdom of heaven." This church is the cathedral of the Pope. It is a magnificent build- ing, and one of the churches built by Constantine. Just opposite the church is a building called Scala Santa, from its containing a flight of steps brought hither from the house of Pontius Pilate. Our Saviour is supposed to have walked up these steps, which has given them the Dame of Holy Staircase. The Catholics who visit the Scala Santa all walk up the steps on their knees ; a penance which they seem to perform with great pleasure. — The Pope came to the church with a very plain equi- page. A great concourse of people were in front of the church. Carnages in great numbers; and temporary stages were erected, on which seats were let for the occasion. The ceremony of taking possession, of re- ceiving the keys, took place inside the church; after which the Pope appeared at one of the windows, and Rome; 251 crave his blessing to many thousands at the same mo- D ment. 25fA.— Very fine (76).— We hear that the neighbour- hood of Gensam is undergoing shocks of an earthquake, 26 u u • ^^^tors It is customary in all loud responses to their pastors, . ^ , ^. , • . .ne nf i\ic Madonna in the street, the towns to have pictures ot tn- i"«u, ZZ the waUs li the houses. S.- of these p.ctu.es 2 Rce are by no .eans had paintings. I o^e.. a Albano, that each of the Madonnas l..i a UtU 'amp Ut up before it this evening, by way of propUjat^ng the Vil at this time of general alarn.. Altano ts scarcely a L from Aricia. I .valked the distance ; stopped and slept at Aricia ; and expected to be roused up by a shoe, of the earthquake during the night ; but notl^ng of the kind occurred. The panic of the people, howeve^ had not at all subsided. The people of fortune who are in the habit of passing the summer at Albano or Ar^c^a have been deterred from leaving Kome ; and the house nr {*«1 Tsr 262 TIVOLI. TIVOLI. 263 ''ill f ( ( 1. of SigkorMartorelli, at which I put up, and which, at tliis time of the year, should be full of artists or other visitors, is quite empty ; all in consequence of the earth- quake. My landlord, as soon as I arrived, took me to witness a scene still more novel than what I had met with at Albano, Just without the further gateway of Aricia there are three or four acres of waste grass-ground, shaded by fine lofty elm-trees ; to this spot a considerable part of the population of Ariciay along with their priests, had come out of their houses to pass the night. Here there was quite a little town of tents, and of huts made with green boughs. Bed-time was not yet come, or their ■fears, perhaps, had kept the people from going to sleep. The night was dark, and the air rather chilly. Fires were kindled in all parts of the little settlement ; and there were the father and mother and children, each family with its fire, kneeling and squatting around the blaze, and all joining together in Pater Noster or Ave Maria, audibly and emphatically repeated. The coun- tenances of the people, made unusually expressive by the occasion, the various attitudes of the little dark-faced boys and girls, assembled in groups, and seen by the strong reflection of the fire*s light, made so admirable a subject for the pencil, that I could not help regretting that I was no painter. 5M,— Fine (78). 6^/i.— Very beautiful day (7(S).— The children in this country are very forward. It surprises us to see at what an early age they begin to have the use of their legs and tongues. The babies are wrapped in what we call swaddling-clothes. The arms of the child are free-, but the legs are confined. A band of thick cotton stuff, about seven or eight inches wide and some yards in length, is tightly winded round and round the child, beginning immediately under the arms and continuing all the way down to the feet. It appears inconsistent to load with so much clothing, and so to confine, the body and limbs of a child which, as soon as it is able to step unaided, will be allowed to run about in the open air almost naked. But the people suppose that to bind up their children thus is necessary; it is tbe custom ,- and, judging by the persons of the bigger children, the swad- dling certainly does not produce distortion of any kind. The thing is, however, exceedingly ugly ; the swaddled baby, even when clean (which it very seldom is), is essentially a barbarous sight. How different the infant in its mother's arms from the same object in our country ! The child of the Italian peasant looks more like a long dirty bundle of rags than like a little creature of the human species. 7/A.— Same weather (76). — We spent the whole of this day among the ruins of Adrian's Villa, which are at about a mile and a half out of Tivoli, and delight- fully situated amongst woods of high trees, gardens, and vineyards. This villa, it appears, was one of the most magnificent things of the kind ever built by the ancient Romans. We are told that it was to be mea- sured, not hy feet or hy yards, h\xihy miles -, of such i' ;i 4 * \ it ■ f! 264 ROME. ROME. 265 i monstrous extent was this imperial country-house. The facts may be exaggerated ; yet, so much of Adrian's Villa remains, and what remains extends to such a dis- tance, that it seems reasonable to credit the accounts, surprising as they are, of this place as it was in its original state. These ruins are nearly solitary; you may see the whole of them without having any modern building in sight; an advantage that does not belong to the Villa of Mecsenas and the Temple of Vesta, which are the less interesting from being mingled in one view with the houses of Tivoli. Among the antique productions of art found at Adrian's Villa, is the original beautiful mosaic representing four doves perched on the rim 'of a vase, copies of which, in mosaic and in alabaster, we see in the shops of London. — The oleander y jasmine, and pomegranate, are now in their full blossom, in the open ground. I have seen the oleander in Rome as much as twenty feet high. Sth. Rome.— Rainy day (69).— In Italian hotels, even the best hotels in the largest cities, you are always waited upon by men. There are no chambermaids ; all the dusting and sweeping and the making of beds being done by men-servants. It is very seldom that ladies who travel in this country find any person of their own sex to wait on them. — Here is mighty room for a display of patience, and I should advise everybody coming to Italy to be prepared with a large stock of that virtue. The Italian servants will even recommend it to you them- selves, exclaiming, " Pazienza!'* when they think you 4 't h i more in a hurry than is consistent with their notions of despatch. The procrastination of the people is into- lerable. But this, indeed, is a thing that strikes us the moment we get across the channel from our own country. " No sooner said than done," nothing, I am sure, ever was in Italy ; at least, as far as relates to waiters at ions, who are here the slowest in their movements of all mankind. I have several times been amused to see how completely the impatience of my countrymen may be cooled by these fellows, with whom, as I have learned from experiment, it is not a bit of use to be angry. They are civil ; but they will not bear to be reproached with their most palpable fault : if you call them dilatory ^ you raise their indignation. There are no bells to sum- mon servants by, so that all is done by calling ; and a pretty noise there is, when the house is full, the waiters in request, and the crooked word cameriere being con- stantly bawled out, with the diflferent pronunciations of diflferent nations, from every story of the lofty building, and each pressing applicant receiving answer from below in the provoking terms of false promise — " Subito"-^ ^^Adesso vengo " — " Eccomi " — " Un momento " — " Mo- mentino" &c. (Directly — Now I'm coming — Here I am —A moment — Half a moment.) ' Servants and their employers are much more on a level than in England. Masters are not so imperious, and servants are not so prompt in obeying, as with us. The two converse with each other in a more familiar way. I have been assured that, when the citizens go out to N '1. >i m "i 266: ROATE. ROME, 767 ' m their cotmtiy lionses, as during the vintage, the family of a gentleman will sit down and play at cards along with th«r own domestics. There is no " swinish muU iitude," no " basest populace,** as the bog-trotters Burke and Castlereagh styled the labourers of England : the lowest class of society here have too much intelligence, and are too decent in their demeanour, to- deser\'e any such names. 9M.— Rain (67). lOiA.— Pair fli). lith. — Showers (71).--Tlie Jeivs at Rome are all confined to one small part of the city, which is called the Ghetto. They have only two or three streets, and these are shut up during the night by high gates, so as com- pletely to prevent the inhabitants from having aiiy com- munication with the Christians for that part of the twenty- four hours. In the place allotted to them, the Jews have their synagogue, and keep shops at which they carry on dealings with the Christians, who come to the Ghetto to buy things cheap. Their principal traffic' appears to be in woollen, cotton, and silk manufactured articles. There is an hotel in the Ghetto ; and when ff Jewish stranger comes to Rome he is obliged to lodge there. A rich Jew of distinction, who lately arrived id Rome, took up his quarters at one of the other hotels of the city ; but tlie police became qiMckly awaie of him, and handed him oflF to the Ghetto. The situation of the place is said to be unhealthy : it cer- tainly is not such as I should like to be obliged to dwell in. I believe that the Jews were, until lately, compelled to wear a peculiar kind of dress, so that they might be at all times recognised ; but this is not the case at pre- sent. I have a copy of an edict published on the 14th of last month, of the Inquisitor-general of the Holy Office of the Pope's province of Romagna, a part of which re- lates to the Jews. It tends to restrict, as far as possible, commerce of any kind between the Jews and the Chris- tians. It forbids their eating, sleeping, gaming, dancing, and going in masquerade together ; the one from going to the coffee-houses of the other ; the Christians are forbidden to go, and the Jews to introduce them, to the Hebrew ceremonies, to the synagogues, lectures, preachings, mar- riages, circumcisions, vigils, feasts, bread- makings, &c.; the one is not to go to the schools of the other, or frequent the houses of the other for the purpose of teachings or nursing children.* The edict does, in fact, as nearly as * " Ordiniamo, e comandiamo, clie riiuno ardisca di trasgredire gli ordini, costituzioui, e bolle pontificie, colle quali si pro- ibiscono agli Ebrei, ed a' Cristiani, certi commerce particolari tra loro, come di dormire, mangiare, giocaie e ballare, andar moscherati insieme, e gli uni recarsi al cafie degli altri, e cosi pure proibiscono a' Cristiani aadare, e agli Ebrei introdurli, alle loro ceremonie Ebraiche, Sinagoghe, If zioDi, prediche, ufiizj, sposalizj, nativitii, circoncisioni, vigilie, pasti, azzimi: proibis-- cono inoltre portarsi gli uni alia scuola, o alia casa degli altri- per inse^nare, o inaparare a leggere, scrivere, a caatare, o sonare, o ballare, o far allro esetcizio, allatare, o per alleva^e ligliuoli, o per esercitare altre cose da' detti ordini, decreti. coatituzioQve bolle ponti£cie interdetti, Tietaudo amsora spres* n2 <( <( (< << (« it (< (( (( I i ■ 'I 1 ■i i 268 ROME. ROME, 269 can be, put an end to all community between tbe Jews and the Christians. The treatment of the Jews has been a subject of great outcry with English Protestant visitors in Rome. But if we are to judge by the vicious example of these people, in all that relates to dealings between man and man, how could the Roman government justify itself for placing them on a footing with its Christian subjecte? If we look to places where the Jews have any power, there is nothing in their conduct but what makes it lucky for the Romans that Israel, in their city, does not extend beyond the Ghetto. When I was in Tuscany, I heard a good deal about the Jews of Leghorn, a city in which they have so much influence ; and an Englishman, one by no means prejudiced against any thing belonging to the country, told me that a Jew could not be sent to jail at Leghorn, but he was sure to escape from it ; such power have they with their money, as even to set the walls of a prison at defiance.* What wretched cant, *' samente sotto pena di una multa e di carcere, ai Cristiani <« V acceudere agli Ebrei, ed a questi fare accendere da detti ♦* Cristiani il fuoco in giorno di Sabato, o altre feste Ebraiche, *' e praiicare simiU servizi agli Ebrei, o lasciarsi praticare «* alcuno di questi, e ogni altro servizio in tali giorni." * *♦ Play is probibited on purpose to be taxed. While tbe police «' lay card-playing under severe restrictions, a Jew pays to that ** branch of Government 800 crowns a month for the monopoly of " the gaming-houses, and lets out at a rack-rent this violation of «* the law to other farmers of iniquity. Usury is not, like theft, «♦ checked by any regulation. A Pisan of my acquaintance, «* having occasion to borrow here 1000 sequins, agreed to the 1 4 i too, it is, excepting only when arising from ignorance of the truth, for us to inake a clamour about the cruelty of the Catholics towards these '' poor people.'* Have we seen no poor people in our own country as badly off, in a condition a hundred times worse than that of the Jews here ? Is it any more cruel for Catholic inquisitors to endeavour to prevent Christians from getting to be like Jews, by separating them from each other, than for parish-ofl5cers to treat paupers as they do in England, where misery and degradation have come to such a pitch as for poor men and their wives to have been, in fact, divorced by the overseer ? The edict sets out by enjoin- ing persons of all degrees in society to inform against one another, in certain specified cases of heresy, defence of heresy, &c. ; and it threatens them with excommuni- cation if they fail to comply with this injunction. I had the copy of the edict from an Italian, who, as to faith, is a sort of nothingarian, and who was delighted with this production of the Holy Office as a proof of its tyrannical disposition towards the people. But why call it tyrannical^ Why may not this measure of precau- tion against destruction to the souls of the Pope's people *• usual rate of 4 per cent, a month ; the money-lender counted ♦• down the whole sum, and then demanded hack 480 sequins for *' the first year's interest. In vain did the borrower remonstrate " against pleaded custom. He took the 520 sequins, and two " years after he paid 1480 for the whole."— Forsyth's Remarks on Leghorn, * i in m 270 .&OME. ROME. 271 be as consistent with all liberty as our measures against those who would destroy the bodies of out rulers? Oliver and Castles and Edwards carried on their operations in England. The Whigs openly praised the avocation of these men, saying, that it was right to employ them. And our Whigs are every where so frightfully famous for their love of liberty, that there is, as I have been assured, a list of the most alarming of their names made out for the police of Austrian Italy, in order that, by not allowing their persons to enter that state, the politics of its people may be free from the contamination of such violent purity. 12/A.— Very wet day (67).— What is the meaning of the word scandal, a word so much used by people having the power to govern '? I have heard the question put, by a Catholic priest, " Do you not thiuk that a great deal tof the scandal attending the trial of your Queen Caroline would have been spared your nation, if the court, in- stead of being open to the public, had been closed, like the courts in this country ? " If he had said, " spared your government!' there would have been something to wnderstand. But " scandal/' as used in this questioij, has an obscurity of meaning about it that is suspicious and ugly. Two cases have occurred, since I have been at Rome, in courts of justice here, which are scandalous indeed, in a comprehensible sense of the term. One was the case of an author, who had a trial with a bookseller. The author is a Roman and a strict Catholic, and any thing but an enemy to the state of things in his country ; but he surprises me by the accounts he gives of the per- jury of his countrymen. In the other case, a Roman sues an English gentleman for remuneration for services which were never rendered, and brings a whole crowd of witnesses to swear to an acknowledgment of the debt who never knew any tiling about the matter further than what they have been informed by the plaintiff. It is pretty clear that something besides the law of God, and the duty of confession, is necessary to restrain these rascals ; yet they do, as I hear, commit all this perjury with impunity. The plaintiff, in the latter of the two cases, has a double string to his bow in pursuing the defendant, the one by an appeal to the law, the other by ,a violation of it : he has recourse to a court of justice to obtain his claim, and, at the same time, threatens to stab the Englishman because he opposes it! That there is most shocking false-swearing in the case there can be no doabt ; and yet the fellow is not without hope of gaining his cause. As an assassin, the police has its eye upon him ; but it is a question whether any means of doing justice here can withstand the phalanx he has suborned, or punish him or them for the perjury. 13//i.— Very fine (74). — Apricots have been in the market for these some days past. 14^^.— Same weather (76).— To-day is the festival of St. Anthony, and a procession took place this afternoon in honour of the saint. Holydays and reUgious proces- sions are very frequent here. " Le feste," said a tailor tome yesterday, " sono la rovina deir ar/zs^a '' (The 272 ROME. ROME* 273 holydays are the niin of the artist /) ; especially, said I, of those artists who are lazy on working days. The processions are sometimes of great length, and the per- sons forming them walk through the principal streets of the town ; there is a banner, with the picture of the parti- cular saint upon it, which is carried in front, and follow- ing it are the banners of other saints, images of Christ and the Virgin Mary, crosses, &c. There is always an immense cross, borne by one man alone, which is just as much in weight as to require the whole of one man's strength to support and balance it. The monks and friars join in these processions, the diflferent orders walk- ing separately, one after another. The Romans were much disappointed this year by the death of the late Pope, Leo XII., which prevented their having any carnival. It seems that he was not at all popular; and, whatever the people might think of him, he could not have mortified them in any way so much as by dying just at the time when he did. Accordingly, he was no sooner dead but the Romans assailed him in their own peculiar way, that is, with sl pasquinade: *« Tre dispetti ci festi, O Padre Santo; •* Accettare il papato — viver tanto— " Morir di carnival per esser pianto ! " {In three ways hast thou offended us, Holy Father: in accepting the papacy — in living so long^^and in dying at carnival- time in order to be lamented.) Italian families, those more especially of the richer classes of people, are not so large as in England ; and the increase of population here is so far encouraged by the Pope, that the possessing of a family of eleven chiU dren entitles the parents to an annuity of sixty scudi (13/. 10s.). 15^/i.— Fine, hot weather (80). 16//t.— Same weather (78). 17^^.— Same weather (78). 18//*.— Same weather (78).— This morning we saw another great ceremony at St. Peter's, the procession of Corpus Domini. Thousands of country people were present. The Pope was carried from the church all round the Colonnade in front of St. Peter's nnd back again to the altar, the bishops, cardinals, and prie»t» of different degrees, and the monks and friars, dre6»cd in heir various costumes, following in the train. Hirt Holi- ness was borne on a platform, on which he wa« IQ A kneeling attitude, leaning on a cushion and holding in his hands the Host. There were temporary staiidg erected in front of the houses of the piazza, and every window was crowded. Great numbers of ladies, splen- didly attired in the costumes of different nciKhbourhoodi. The fineness of this climate, the clear sky and tiie bril- liant sun, contribute very much to the effect of thcs« grand forms of festivity: how would such thingfl be at St. Paul's, on a misty day, compared with what they are here ? 19/A.— Same weather (79).— The curuaUitSr tie sights, of Rome are so many that it must be a volume of v5 1 RO«E. some wie In which they could all be-enumerated. Erery body has read some description of the city in its ancient times; and those who have not been informed before- hand of the present appearances of Rome, must be rather surprised, on coming here, to see so few ruins of the antique amongst the extensive mass of modern buildings. All the effects of time, however, not considered, it is not to be wondered at that the Romans have so few remain- ing edifices of their ancestors to show, when we see with what negligence they treat those that do remain. In many parts of the Camjpagna of Rome there are edi- fices of the ancient Romans, and the forms of some of these are very far from being destroyed ; such are the Sepulchre of Cecilia Metella and that of Nero ; but do sort of attention appears to be paid towards the furtusr preservation of these things ; there is no one to guard them, and the curious may, if they have only strength enouorh to do it, carry away a wheel-barrow full of the materials. After the Colosseum, the most grand and beautiful piece of antiquity is the Pantheony or Rotunda, the temple of all the gods, which was built by Agrippa. The statues formerly contained in this building, and otiier of its ornaments, have been removed ; but it is still the least dilapidated, as well as one of the most magni- ficent, remains of the architecture of the ancients. It is now a place of Christian worship. Trajan s column, and the copy from it, are not to be reckoned among the ^"uins, for these are little damaged. This column, the Pantheon, and the Colosseum, are most wonderful (in ROME. 275 respect to size) of all the antiquities of Rome. The triumphal arches of Titus, Constantine, and Severus^ have lost only just so much of their beauty as to make them the more admired. But, if objects of astonishment be what you seek among the remnants of tlie ancient city, you need look for nothing beyond the Colosseum, for, after that, there is nothing to be astonished at, Rome has many fine piazze, or large open places, similar to the squares of our towns. In most of these there are fountains, and beautiful obelisks which have been brought from Egypt to this country. The fountains at Rome are more magnificent than any one can have an idea of who has never seen such things. The mass of stone composing a single fountain would be enough to build a pretty good-sized English house. The Tiber runs through the city, and there are seven or eight bridges across the river. The name of this river has a high sound ; but it is a very poor thing compared with our Thames. • The stream is rapid enough, but the water is muddy, and neither above nor below the city is there any beauty on its banks. Rome at the present day is, as it was in ancient times, abundantly supplied with good water from other sources ; the water is brought to the city through great aqueducts ; in this way it flows to the fountains, and in such quantities that these fountains are very refreshing objects in hot weather. Some of the water thus obtained comes from a distance of twenty-five or thirty miles, all the way through the artificial mediuwi of an aqueduct The Fontana di Trevi is the finest of 276 AOME. ROMF. 277 all the fountains ; and it is particularly beautiful in the weather which we have just now, and when seen, as Madame de Stael describes it in her Corinne, by moonlight. The summer nights at Rome are the most serene that can be : night after night the moon has been shining with a dazzling brightness. The city, for its size, is surprisingly quiet, even in the day-time. After sunset very few carriages are moving. The people may be said to sit up, or, rather, to walk about all night here. It is the fashion with all classes, to rise early ; then the dinner- hour is early; and, during the warm months, they take a sleep after dinner, actually undressing and going to bed. If you want to purchase any thing in a shop, between the hours of three and four o'clock in the after- noon, you will be pretty sure of finding the [shop door and windows shut and the shop-keeper asleep in bed. This is the general custom of the people ; theyHook upon it as necessary both for comfort and health. I do not know whether there may not be something in the air or sunshine of this country which is pernicious to those who are working or wakeful in the warmest part of the day ; but I suspect that it is the disinclination to activity, more than any thing to be afraid of in its consequences, that sends them to bed at such a time of day. However, the English people who reside in Rome do as Rome does in this respect, and agree with the natives that it is right. The afternoon's nap, which is from one to two hours in duration, keeps the people from going to bed early at night ; there is more promenading after dark than during the day-time. Crowds of ladies and gentlemen, fashion- able people, the ladies attired as if for an evening party, with light clothes and having only a veil oi nothing at all on their heads, walk up and down the Corso^ from nine o'clock at night to one o'clock in the morning. And the tranquillity, the absence of any thing the least like disorderly conduct in the streets of this great city, is such as one would suppose to be impossible. Almost every big house here is called a palace ; and, as far as size goes, a great part of the houses in Rome are worthy of the name. The palaces of the princes and nobility are enormous, and so are the collections of pic- tures that they contain. Here, in these pic/wres, and in the really princely and noble manner of admitting the public to the sight of them, is the great spell which draws so many painters to Rome, and makes them de- lighted in the life they lead there. It is not necessary for any one to affect to have a taste for these beautiful works : the indubitable proof of their merit is, that nobody in the world can see them without admiring. It seems strange to us to see so many people having judgment as to the fine arts ; the poor people here have generally more or less of passion for, and capacity to criticise painting. But this must necessarily be the case : what they have been accustomed to see from their infancy, in such quantity, and in such variety, they cannot help knowing something about. It is difficult for us to come to Italy without boasting an acquaintance with the/»C arts ; to appear to know something of this matter is so n m mOME. 4i»portant a point with the ''accomplished" traveller, that, if he writes his book (which every hody does now), and knows nothing about the fiubject (as is the case with «mo8t travellers), he cannot well avoid treating us to a lit- tle of the connoiseurs prattle on ** the arts,** The last tfcook of travels in Italy that I have seen is written by a Mr. Hog, an English lawyer, who, speaking about the pictures in the Borghese palace at Rome, has mistaken Titian's personification of Profane Love for the por- *trait of our Saviour ! There are about four hundred churches in Rome. St. Peter's is so famous, that the rest have been compara- itively thrown into obscirrity. But there are a great many churches here that are exceedingly magnificent and •beautiful. There seems to be no end to the splendour that you have to behold in this way. 20;A.— Same weather (78).— The ladies of Italy are *not, generally, so handsome as the women amongst the common people, which may be attributed to the manner «in which they are brought up, and particularly to the kittle exercise and air enjoyed by them. The sun of Italy, so far from destroying the complexion, seems to -add lustre to its beauty ; at all events it gives the glow of health to those who are from necessity exposed to its rays ; whilst the ladies, who seldom leave the house be- 'fbre the evening, unless it be to go to church, are for the most part pallid, and have not the bright countenances of the country women. But the same style of beauty pre- vails throughout the south of Italy, the fiaely-foimed ROME. 279 features, and the same large black or Wue eyes, with their long silken fringes, seem equally bestowed on the princess and the female peasant. It is to be regretted that in this land of loveliness and of the arts, where the climate is such as to admit of the most beautiful and fanciful fashion in dress, and where we see the com- monest amongst the labouring women going to church with their fine heads of hair dressed in the Grecian way, and merely a veil falling over the shoulders, and preserv- ing, from a motive of pride, in every other particular, the ancient costume of their native village or district, that their mistresses should encumber themselves with French bonnets, stiff stays, rolls of hair on each side of the face, and pyramids of it on the top of their well-shaped heads, and demean themselves by imitating that little wriggling walk the performance of which no one but a French woman is properly capable of. They certainly do, when- ever they appear in their carriages in the Cor so, or walk- ing there in the evening, display considerable airiness and tastefulness in their dress; but thei/ appear to he foreigners visiting the place, while their inferiors have a grandeur about them that would seem to denote the true descendants of the ancient Romans.-The condition of the ItaUan women, as regards the matter of decorum, appears to English people as full of inconsistency. The mammas, who show much of the liberal in their own con^ duct, watch that of their daughters very narrowly. The contract of marriage is much more relaxing than restrict tive in its consequences. As soon as the young women ar^ I 280 ARICrA, 281 ilOME. married they go wherever, and do whatever, they please. But, before that, they stay continually at home; or, when they do go out, they are not allowed to do so with- out being accompanied by some experienced and trust- worthy person of their own sex. You seldom see an unmarried lady walking alone iu the street. Lovers, when they have not access to the habitations of their mistresses, are very openly clandestine ; the lady appears at the window, and her suitor in the street, and the courtship is carried on through the iron window- bars. 2lrst. — Hot (81). — The Italians are formal visitors. Their homeSf as respects the entertaining of neighbours, are very dififerent from ours. I do not know, however, upon the whole, which kind of neigh bow hood is essen- tially the best ; for, if we feel ourselves more at home un- der the roofs of our neighbours than the Italians do, there is, I do think, more idle back-biting and ill blood amongst us than is to be found in any other country. The people here are indolent ; they have, compared with us, nothing to do ; so that there is more time for lounging and public amusement, in the enjoyment of which they meet one another from home. They exceed the French in their overstrained compliments, A stranger is surprised to see so much ease in manner accompanying the utterance of so much falsehood ; but they flatter with a good grace because their consciences do not reproach them with insincerity, there being a clear understanding that certain phrases, having meanings the most gracious and agreeable, are to pass for nothing at all. The sin of gambling prevails all over Italy. People of all degrees are gamblers. Billiards is the principal game among the rich ; and the labouiing people play at what is called mora or morra. Mora was one of the games of the ancient Romans. It is for two persons, and is performed by a casting of the fingers ; both parties present the right hand, and, at the same instant, call out a cer- tain number, which may be any from one to ten. The ingenuity required is in guessing how many fingers the opposite party intends to cast. The game is played with surprising rapidity. The porters may be seen gambling in this way at the corner of every street. They have such a passion for gambling, that when the value of a halfpenny is at stake, their attention seems to be as much engrossed, and they talk with as much vehemence, as if ihey were about to win or lose a hundred pounds. Some dispute is constantly arising, and it frequently becomes a quarrel. The game of mora has caused great numbers of stabbings and deaths in this country ; but to suppress so fascinating an amusement has not been prac- ticable. 22ncf.-- Same weather (82). 23rd. — Same weather (83). 24th. Aricia.— Hot summer weather (82). The contrast between the air of this place and that of Rome is very great : here the night air is still quite cool ; in Rome the nights are sultry, and the days very hot. By what I can learn, the accounts of the fever at Rome are a good deal exaggerated. It is certain that the air of ,\ 1 II i282 ARICIA. ARICIA, ^83 itlie city, during the hottest part of the summer, m to MBost people exceedingly w'^ak^ning. Some strangers *wfll live in Rome for years, and never be out of health ; fiothers, again, are laid hold of by the tertian ague, Fwhicb, in many cases, will stick to a man during a large .•part of his lifetime. — Figs are now beginBing to be ripe. 25/A. — Same weather. — We went this afternoon io GensanOy to see what is called the Infiorata or Festa di Flora, always held in that town on the 25th of this month. It is a religious festival, similar to others that are held, on certain days of every year, in the different country towns. These festivals are all gay holydays; and the ceremonies of the day consist, principally, in a great procession of persons belonging to the church. But there is something peculiar in the Festival of Floray at Gensano ; whicli is, that the way along which the pro- cession has to pass is always covered with flowers* .Blossomsof roses, broom, wild tares, and other flowers, tare spread in such a way on the ground as to produce the effect of a carpet or a piece of mosaic. The people, who take a pride in their Infiorata, take the trouble to collect a great quantity of flowers of the most showy co- lours ; and so much pains have they to do the thing well, and so much taste in the execution of it, that not a isingle flower-stalk is seen ; the blossoms are all taken .clean oif their stalks ; so that the ground appears a manj- coloured bed of pure blossom. The procession was long, ifind, like all such things here; slow in its motions. A .biahop. proceeded in iiout, and was followed by prieste, and others dressed in robes of divers colours, who bore banners, crosses, images, and lighted tapers^ and who chanted something in Latin as they went along. An altar was erected just on the outside of the town, at the top of a steep straight street which terminated at an avenue of trees where the procession halted. A bishop performed some service at the altar, and at the end of it delivered a general benediction to the town, while all the people, along the avenue on either side of the altar and down the street in front of it, were on their knees. With the benediction the ceremony terminated, and the bishop, bearing the host, along with the rest of the pro- cession, returned to the church through a long crowd of people kneeling. A young Scotch gentleman who was present gave offence to the bishop : he stood in a con- spicuous situation, and not only did not kneel, but even neglected to remove a large straw hat which covered his head, while the host was being carried close by him. The bishop, catching sight of this very rigid noncon- formist, suddenly stopped, and the soldiers who attended the procession quickly, and with little ceremony, induced him to doff his hat. There was, perhaps, no insult i»- tended in this case ; but the people evidently thought that there must be ; they could not suppose such a vio- lation of good breeding to be involuntary ; and very much offended at it they were. '* Pare," exclaimed an old woman in the crowd, with eyes flashing indignation, ** Pare, da vero, che sieno Turchi questi forestieri T' (Really one would think that these foreigners were ii'i 284 ARICIA, Turks / ) I remember reading some articles in the English newspapers two or three years ago, in which two Englishmen were carrying on a dispute about the man- ner in which we Protestants were treated at Rome by ike Pope, The fact is this, that the Pope has been exceedingly indulgent, forbearing to a degree far beyond justice; while the provocation given by the different sorts of anti-Catholics would have justified this govern- ment in having a tread-mill for the special purpose of keeping them alive to a common sense of decency. It got to be so bad, some time before the late Pope died, that he was obliged seriously to hold council as to the mode of dealing with the disorderly. He refrained, how- ever, from acting with as much severity as the circum- stances required, for fear of hurting the Catholic cause in England. This moderation, however undeserved by those to whom it was shown, was well advised : for, what a noise would it have made all over England ; what a yell would have been raised by our saints; what a " no-popery** cry would have rung in every parish of the country, if the Pope had given only half a dozen of the insolents their due, by packing them off to the Jews' Ghetto, or flogging them at a cart's tail ! The great accusation brought from Rome was, that the Protestants "were not allowed to have a place of worship within the city. This was a sheer falsehood. They have been allowed to do as they pleased in this respect. They chose to congregate in a large hall just without one of the gates, a place which they now have, and which was ARICIA. 285 pitched upon from motives of convenience to themselves. What is more, they are not only permitted thus to exer- cise their own forms of worship, but there has even been a military guard appointed by the Pope to ensure the impossibility of their experiencing any thing like inter- ruption from his Roman Catholic subjects. Interrup- tion , however, there is not the slightest reason to appre- hend ; for, notwithstanding the cause of anger that has been given them, the forbearance of the people is won- derful. How quickly would any foreigner find himself in the middle of a horse-pond, or under the spout of a street-pump, if he dared to attempt the same outrage in England which some Englishmen commit here! The common people are a good deal puzzled what to think of us. They express their idea of all that is infidel and anti-Christian by the word " Turk^" and some of them, I have a notion, must suppose that we are a sort of mongrel Turks. At all events, they have a peculiar way of speaking of themselves, by which they give us to understand that they do not look upon us as Christians exactly ; for, in talking about us as compared with them, in matters of religion, it is " Noi altri Cristiani" {We Christians). A great many of the English travellers that come here, nay, even the rich, the titled, what are called " the most respectable '^ people, seem to look upon the Catholic church service as a show that they may come and divert themselves in the presence of and treat with any sort of contumely they please. I have heard such accounts of 11 i ARICIA. t^€ rasolence of English people during religious ceremo- nies here as are hardly to be believed. The very actors in such disgraceful scenes take a pride in confessing it, saying, " Oh, the Pope knows better than to put an Englishman into prison." So that, because there is no fe»r of punishment, they behave among the Romans, who treat them like men, in such a way as they would not dare to do at Constantinople, where they would be treated as they deserve,. that ift to say, like dogs. Brave champions of their own faith! But what /aeM, wliat sort of religion, can there be in the minds of such per- sons, of these ** liberals,'' who borrow a name to call themselves by from the ** philosophes" of France; philosophers, forsooth ! the beauty of whose tenets con- sists in a general mockery of all that is most sacred, the best part of whose wit is that wantonness which charac- terizes their nation, and in whose opinion not even the name of heaven itself has claim to exclusion from among the objects of their impious merriment. Guard us, ye powers that preside over whatever is not designing in hypocrisy or crazy in conceit, against all that calls itself ** liberal" or »• philosophe '\' The friends of ** civil and religions liberty all over the world " appear here to be afflicted witli impiety as if it were a distemper inevitably their lot in this state of society; the first symp- toms show themselves in the shape of conceit, which leads to contempt, and finally to malignity; and it runs through the whole "■ liberal " herd as the murrain does with a drove of hogs. I have heard English people say. ARICIA. 287 that if they could have had any doubt of the absurdity of the Catholic doctrine before coming here, the witnessing of such " mummeries" as are here seen would be enough to convince them. This saying is the fashion ; with some it may be sincere, and the conduct of the English Catholics has not done much for their religion in our eyes: as poZi/icians they have, to be sure,. been as base as their enemies need wish. But I must say, for ray own part, my opinion on experience is the very contrary of what some pretend to entertain. I never feel so much respect for these people as when I see them in the exer-^ cise of their religious duties. Here is a uniform sim- plicity and modesty in dress, an absence of any thing- approaching to ostentation or dissembling, a decorara and a dignity prevailing throughout every scene of divine worship, which, whatever any one may say, must make all beholders think in favour of it. If we could forget, as their scoffing haters do, the name in which they are '' gathered together," and the consequent promise to all in common upon such occasions, the very manner in which they offer their prayers, so expressive of unaffected piety and devotion, is what can be witnessed without admiration by no being whose heart has any of those feelings in it. Not to be inspired with humility, rather than with a desire to hector— to kneel along with, rather than to spurn at— to join in supplication, rather than interrupt with muttered sarcasms of profanity, betra)'s such a sort of belief 2^ is consistent in the rabble- rout of sectarians who come here from abroad, but not such as 1^ I. ill' 288 ARICIA. ARICIA. 289 belongs to any one having an atom of real religion. We are not obliged to come here : we might spare our ** enlightened " understandings the shock of seeing such " prostration of intellect " as the mass, the processions of the church, and the ceremony of Holy Thursday, when all the curious " liberals *' crowd to see the Pope wash the feet of the " filthy pilgrims " and wait upon them at dinner. But the Catholics are taunted with info- lerance, bigotry ^ and superstition. These terms have got at last to be vastly edifying to our ears ; and more especially, too, when we hear them from the Ame^ ricans ; from sober, sedate, most reflecting and calcu- lating Jonathan, in whose country are the Presbyterians of New England, commonly called ^' blue" (the colour of the flames of brimstone) ; Jonathan, in whose ultra- ranting Methodist-meetings I have seen little children scared into fits by the preacher, and well-dressed women, under the influence of the spirit, groaning, and flounder- ing about at full length on the chapel floors ; Jonathan, whose woods are the scene of '* camp-meetings" and resound with bowlings of the faithful that are about as rational as those of wild beasts ; Jonathan, to whom be- longs the origin of the sect called shaking quakers, whose mode of worshipping God is like no other antick of which man in his senses is capable, the Indian war^ dance only excepted. I see no cause for our great abuse of the priests of this country, unless it be that they are numerous, and, generally, sleek, plump, and good-looking men. They are distinguished from other people in their costume, which makes their numbers more apparent. Surely we have nothing to brag of on this score. 1 dare say that the Roman priests are a tolerably well-behaved set of men as the icorld goes : if we have not quite so many, those that we have manage to dispose of enough of the fruits of our labour. At all events, the priests here enjoy what they get in the presence of the people. They stay 2vith their flock, and the flock keep together. While the shepherd is absent or asleep, the flock will stray ; and what wonder is it, then, that we run so many ways, led off by the vigilant interlopers who have taken advantage of our wandering or drowsy priesthood ? What wonder is it that the clergy of our church have come to the disgraceful pass, of being forced, in order to keep the people from being all secta^ rians, to imitate the industrious dissenting parsons, by becoming " evangelical'* and carrying about bundles of religious tracts ? If the present rage for educating the people and disseminating the gospel be any good, to whom do we owe the beginning of it but to the dissenters from our own church ? Among the non-resident who come to Rome, I see the winning face of the Reverend Dr. NoTT, who is a Prebendary of Winchester Cathe- dral, and who, free from the anxiety that attends a chance of church preferment , nurses his gout in the neighbourhood of the Pope. 26/^. — Same weather (80). — A very large part of the heavy work of this country falls to the lot of, and is, I think, about equally divided between, those two parts .ill U 290 ARICIA. 11 of God's creation, wliich, little as they resemble in other respects, happen to be the two most remarkable for their powers of patience: I mean, the womeri and the donkeys. The men work ; and horses are employed ; and more mules than horses. But, the women and the donkeys appear to have the viost to do. The women are in the habit of bearing great loads on the head. Every burden, if it be of any weight, they put on the head. In this way the women and girls carry water, whether the distance be small or great. They have copper cans for the purpose, which will contain an English bucket, bucket and a half, or two buckets of water at once ; and these are always borne on the head. This has not the effect of making the women stoop ,• on the contrary, they are very straight. Carts are not much used in this country, amongst the mountains. Instead of carts or wagons, they use large panniers hung across the backs of horses, mules, or asses. The pannier is a sort of big, open basket, made of wicker-work. The ass here, as in all parts of the world, is banged and goaded along with loads that seem too great for him even to stand under. Here it is, in the countries of mountains, where his services are of the greatest importance, and where the painters bring his picturesque portrait into every land- scape, that this little animal is the least kindly treated. The thickness of his hide and his wonderful patience have been the ruin of the ass ; they have given him the cha- racter of total insensibility to both burdens and blows ; and he is here laden and belaboured accordingly; nothing I ARICIA. 291 that man's own shoulders would avoid the carrying of is thought too much for the back of the ass, a back which these people seem to look upon as formed, by nature, to feel no difference between what is light and what is heavy. The number of men, women, or children, that mount the omniferous beast at one time, is just as many not as he can carry, but as can find room to be upon him, room to sit between his withers and his rump or to lie in his panniers. The very name of the poor ass is reviled. His proper name in Italian is asino ; but the more popular, somaro. And it is a custom, in de- cent society, never to mention the " somarV* without, at the same time, making the parenthetical apology of *^ con rispetto parlando'' to the person addressed, for having alluded to a subject ao low. The name oi somaro must, I should suppose, be derived from soma, a load or burden, and applied to the ass on account of the reputa- tion which his all- tolerating back has made proverbial. An English gentleman, who was with us the day before yesterday at Genzano, hired an ass of a woman at Aricia to ride the distance. The ass, while at Genzano, suddenly died j and the sum demanded by the woman in compensation for her loss being exorbitant, the matter was referred to a country judge in the neighbourhood, SiGNOR Martorelli undertaking to act as advocate for the defendant. Our host, who is an extraordinary instance of affability, humour, and politeness, began his speech, according to the manner of his country, with a conjunction ; '* Dunque, Signore," said he to the judge, o2 ,i 1 •4 li 292 ARICIA. !l! " questo somaro (con rispetlo parlando) &c" Now, Sir, this jack-ass {speaking with respect) All this neighbourhood is full of beautiful scenery. We went to-day to the top of a very high mountain, called Monte-Cavo, at about four or five miles from Aricia. The matter of which it is formed seems to have once been all on fire ; it is an immense heap of cinder- like soil and porous stone. On the summit, which comes to a perfect peak, there is a convent ; and from the con- vent you look down on Alhano, Aricia, Genzano, the city and Campagna of Rome, and the sea: a most splendid view, but more especially so in the reflection of such a sun as shined upon it to-day. Close by Albano there is a lake, called Lago-Castello ; and close by Gen- zano is another lake, called Nevii. These lakes are each four or five miles in circumference, having deep and steep banks covered with underwood and vineyards ; and it is supposed, from their form and the nature of the soil of the neighbourhood, that they have originally been the craters of volcanoes. On the bank of the lake at Albano there is a little place called Castel-Gandolfo, at which the Pope has a country house ; and on that of Nemi there is a little town of the same name. Nemi is supposed to have taken its name from the nemus, or sacred wood, of the nymph Egeria, who, according to Ovid, was of the town of Aricia. These two lakes, seen from any part of their banks, are strikingly beautiful objects; and there are so many circumstances of ancient poetry and history connected with them and every spot around them^ that ARICIA. 293 they are everlasting subjects of the painter's study. Our way up to the convent was through narrow tracks, shaded by woods and coppices of hazel and chesnut. At about two-thirds of the way there is a small village called Rocca-del-Papa ; and near this we saw a chapel in which is the picture of the Virgin called Madonna del Tufo. This picture is believed to be of miraculous origin. It is said that a large mass of the volcanic stone called tufo suddenly gave way on the side of the moun- tain, and that the picture, which is now preserved on the spot, was found ready painted on a flat piece of surface in the stone. The painting is one of that sort which might arise from accident without any very great stretch of possibility ; at least it would do but little credit to the art. Pictures representing the miracles wrought by this Madonna are hung up in the chapel, a thing which I frequently see in the churches in Italy. The pictures, which are always mere little daubs, are a kind of offer- ings made by the persons who, by her interposition, the Virgin has preserved from death or great danger : you see a man falling from a horse, or out of a chaise, or from a window, or with a wheel going over his neck, or being pursued by a bull, or something as terrific as these accidents, the fatal consequences of which have been averted by the Virgin. Coming from Albano to Castel-Gandolfo, a short distance, we passed through a lane called the Galleria^ or Gallery. I was struck with this lane before, when on my road to Naples, when I was not aware of its cele- I I 294 EOM£. brity. It is the most picturesque lane that I ever saw; and the heauty of it is in the old trees of ilex or ever- green oak that grow along it, which are exceedingly fine and various in shape. They grow in such forms as if on purpose to be put into pictures. Almost every tree in the Gallery has its nightingale, which sings here both night and day. The whole lane rings with music from one end to the other. Nothing in rural poetry seems com- plete without the nightingale. How could the Italian poets do without their " vago angclletto,'' this charming little bird? Ariosto makes her sing as far north as Scotland, where her song was never heard. 27^A.— Same weather (81).— We go to Marino, a small place beneath the mountain of Rocca-del-Papa, — A wash is not here the same matter of domestic trouble that it is in England. All washing is done out of doors. Somewhere just without every small town or village, a large oblong bay is formed with stone and cement. The thing is built on the nearest river, or spring of water, the stream running in at one end and passing off at the other, carrying with it the suds as fast as they arise. In this way you see twenty or thirty women all washing their clothes together at the community's common wash- ing-tub. 2Sth. Rome. — A very severe storm of thunder and rain (74). 29^A.— Rain (80). -This is St. Peter's Day. The Pope officiated at the mass in St. Peter's this morning. The bronze statue of the Saint was attired in the robei of his ROME. 295 Holiness, having the triple crown on its head, and the Pope's own ring on one of the fingers of its l>enedictory hand. The church is illuminated, and there are fire- works again this evening. St. Peter's shrine is Hghted up with lamps, and hung round with beautiful festoons of red and white roses. On this day people are allowed to descend to the under-ground parts of the churchy which is full of sights as well as the part above ; but women do not partake of this privilege. 30^A.— Very fine (80).— I went early this morning to the top of St. Peter's church. The path leading to the pinnacle of this piece of ambition was far more con- venient than that of our St. Paul's. I have been told that a pope once drove a pair of mules half way up ; which really w^ould not be impracticable. At the lan- tern of the church, which is just under the ball, I saw a em^M Jig-tree and a bit of the plant called roving sailor growing between the stones of the building. July. Irst. — Same weather (81). 2wrf.— Same weather (81).— It is too much the custom in England for visitors to contribute towards the expenses of the houses in which they visit by giving money to sen'ants. The same custom exists here ; only here the meanness attending it is much greater than with us. This morning, as I was preparing to go out from the hotel, I heard a knock at our door, and on opening it recog- nised a cardinaVs footman. He was a fine, tall, stout. m ' 11 296 ROME. II good-looking Roman, dressed out with an abundance of gold lace ; and the most gentlemanly footman in man- ner that I remember to have seen. He made me a bow fit to be made by a courtier to a king. As I was leaving his master's house yesterday^ this footman very politely inquired where I lived, in order, as he said, that he might know where to go if he were sent to me with a message. I wondered, at the time, what could be his motive for making the inquiry ; but the first look he gave me this morning opened my eyes ; at least, I violently suspected that he had a design on my purse. So suspecting, I determined to have some fun with him. When I asked him his business, he muttered something, out of which I could only hear the words " // Signor Cardinale" — ^* la famiglia del Signor Cardinale"-^ '* visita" — " complimentiJ* What could I understand, if not that the Cardinal, with all his family, were come to pay me a visit, and had sent this smooth-spoken gen- tleman up with their compliments. I pretended, at least, so to understand him, and would not be thought to know what he meant till I brought him so far to the point as to use the word '* detiaro*^ (money), which he did, after some time lost in evasion, and, no doubt, con- siderable suffering from a sense of delicacy ; and then he told me that it was the custom, Sic, the sum being left to my discretion, I offered him no words of rebuke ; but he had come a mile through a hot sun-shine ; and I gave him the smallest piece of silver I had (5^d.), thinking it would be worth so much to see how he could ROME. 297 take it. Fortunately I did not intend this as payment in anticipation for the bow he gave me on departing, or all the money would have been thrown away I 3rd. — Same weather : the days are hot and clear j but the nights are yet pretty cool (82). — This morning I had the honour of an audience with the Pope, and at the same time, that of receiving the blessing of his Holi- ness. The levee was held at his palace on the Quirinal Hill, where he resides during the warm months, on account of the air of the situation, which is better than that of the Vatican. It was a most unsovereign-like levee, in respect to time of day, for I had to be at it by eight o*clock in the morning. The first apartment, after ascending to the first story, was a magnificent hall, in which stood a small guard of Swiss soldiers ; the next was the waiting-room of the Pope's household servants, who were dressed in suits of crimson damask ; two fur- ther chambers led to the anti-chamber, at the doors of which stood military men with their sabres drawn. These men belonged to what is called the Guard of Nobles, a guard composed entirely of noblemen ; and each sentinel was relieved, at every few minutes, by an officer and some men who remained in one of the cham- bers without. This was a day for private audiences ; and the chamberlain, who was dressed in a purple gown, introduced those who were to be admitted one by one. His Holiness, (Pius VII.) who is sixty-eight years old, and whose manner appeared to me very paternal and con- descending, was sitting under a canopy, with some papers o3 ^98 HOME. on a table before liim, at one end of a long saloon, the walls of which were decorated with tapestry and the floor paved with marbles. He was dressed in white satin throughout : a satin robe with a row of buttons all down the front, satin shoes, and a small close cap of the same material on the head. The form that is required to be observed in the presence of the Pope is no more than that of kneeling to him, and he is always addressed by one or other of the appellations, Vostra Santitil (Your Holiness), or Santo Padre (Holy Father). The act of genuflexion, on entering, has to be thrice performed ; first, as soon as you come into the audience-chamber, secondly, when you have got half-way across it, and lastly, on nearly approaching the person of his Holiness. The Mssing of the toe, a ceremony so horrifying to some Protestants, is not a sine qua non in visiting the Pope ; this is just according as the. conscience or curiosity of tlie courtier may or may not move him to solicit the favour. 4^^.— Same weather (83). —In speaking of the cha- racter of the people of modern Italy, the inhabitants of this part of the country, the Romans are, of course, the most interesting, and, consequently, those of whom tra- vellers take the greatest notice and have the most to say. The epithet in the mouths or from the pens of all is, « degenerate ; '' which is applied to all Italy, and more especially to Rome, in the name of which, as associated with former times, we are taught to comprehend every thing that is noble and great. Travellers have their ■^. K &o:» HO Mar, — Unexpected surprise of a jealous wife, who finds her husband in conversation with his fair one : *' Lamoglie di Geppino il pelo arriccia, *' Che a discorrer lo trova con la bellaj Sec" 3 May.— Perils for youth — ^the sympathetic force of love — it draws them, even against their will, to the precipice — trust to this little story : •« Entto d' un bosco ascoso, &c." \ 324 FLORENCE. 16 July. — ^The heat is having its way — people's brains are in the air — a lady runs away from her husband for jealousy : •* Vittima sverrturata d-ll' amore, ** Percbe senza ragion, senza consiglio, &c. n 14 Aug, — Elopement of a girl, who is seduced by a young libertine — tears and despair of the mother, and death of the father in a few hours after: ** Volgitl addietro , scellerata figlia : •• Morte arricasti a cbi ti die la vita," &c. 26 Jbec, — Curious adventure of a Florentine mantua- maker, who, on account of jealousy, has a san- guinary quarrel with an embroiderer. ; (.' As to " LIBERTY OF THE PRESS," as it is called, there is nothing of the kind in Italy. Perhaps the people of this country are, as relates to the Press, in the next best state to that of being completelt/ free : they have no freedom at all. The only liberty of the Press any where contended for is that of saying what men think about the conduct of those who govern them. Of this liberty the people here are wholly deprived. But there is no delusion about the matter. They know that they are permitted to say nothing. They are not amused by the false semblance of a milk-and-water discussion of political subjects ; they are not made to believe that their tongues are free while the gag is actually sticking be- \ M ( FLORENCE. 325 tween their teeth and stretching their jaws ; there can be no sham-fights of newspaper warfare here ; if the per- sons who compose their governments are guarded against all danger from ball, the ears of the people are not stunned, and they are not led astray, deceived, distracted with various shades of opinion, urged on to exert them- selves, and then neutralized in their attempts, by a fire of powder and wadding from innumerable quarters of diversified treachery. In England there is so much said, that it seems almost impossible to believe that there can be any want of liberty to say amongst us. Of all things John Bull dotes upon his Press, which cheats him into the conviction that nobody is so free as himself. Our Press, our newspapers, magazines, and reviews, the band of leaders in the many ways of thinking, are like a nume- rous ill-sorted pack of hounds; as various in their tongues, every dog running riot upon any but the true scent, all equally what huntsmen call "liars ;" and, right or wrong. Old England is the land for a national cry. The amount of what our bodies are made to feel is lessened in our minds by what we allow ourselves to be taught to think. We are taught to be proud of our " Palladium/' as it is called, even when it is modified by the law which tran- sports a man for the second offence of publishing any thing having a tendency to bring the inventors of the law into contempt ; the most " liberal " in profession have been the most profligate in motive, ready and willing to justify and insist upon any act of oppression towards the people whenever the doing so^ could further their \ I 326 ILORENCE. own mercenary ends. Those who place their faith in that part of the English Press which calls itseU popular, which never speaks out till it is sure of what is going to happen, which leads astray when the people submit to be so led, and follows them when they will go the wrong way, should remember that it was the greatest of all panderers to vulgar prejudice which dragged innocent Casiiman to the gallows. It is, I think, at least a question, whether the being left to think for ourselves would not be better than the " LIBERTY OF THE PRESS" as enjoyed in England: whether the great engine of political puttings up and pullings down be not, after all, more mischievous than useful: whether it be not difficult to decide to which party, as far as the Press is concerned, it is most discreditable to belong. 5th. — Same weather (81). — The Italians have peculiar ways of burying their dead. The body is carried to the church, where it is exposed to public view; persons stand around holding lighted candles, while the priest, sprinkling holy-water around, performs the burial ser- vice ; and then the corpse, if not deposited in the church itself, is borne away to the place of interment. At Naples there is one general receptacle for the bodies of indigent persons ; it is a great pit, closely covered over, with three hundred and sixty-five holes, every hole having a sepa- rate covering, to put the bodies in at. The holes are taken In regular rotation ; each, consequently, is opened but once during the course of twelve months, and receives no J i FLORENCE. 327 more than just all the bodies that are interred on one certain day of the year. In funerals at Rome, the bodies of the dead of all classes of persons are carried through the streets to the church on a bier, with a pro- cession of persons bearing lighted candles, the corpse being attired in the dress that was worn by the deceased person while living, the face uncovered, and in that state exposed to the view of the public. A wealthy noble- man, a duke, who lately died in Rome, was thus drawn through the city in his carriage, the corpse dressed in regimentals, and decked with orders, a cocked hat on the head, and a drawn sword placed in the hand. 6^/i.— Same weather (82).— The state of Tuscany is 6,324 miles square. Its present population is about 1,300,000. I am told that the population is greater by 150,000 persons than it was in 1818.— There are 800 monks in this state, and 3,600 nuns, who have indepen- dent revenues: 1,500 mendicant monks, who depend en- tirely on free alms ; 9,000 secular priests, most of whom are paid in various ways, directly or indirectly, by the peo- ple. Much of what the secular priests have is given them in voluntary offerings from individuals, such as the be- quests of dying persons, money given by the living to have masses said for the souls of their deceased relations, &c. The Bishopric of Pisa is a rich one, and the bishop, I hear, expends a very large part of his annual income in the way of charity. Of the estates formerly belonging to the church, 300,000 pounds sterling worth was taken from it during the reign of Leopold I. ; and the French, ' I 323 FLORENCE. when they came, lessened its amount by no less than jLlfOOOjOOO. I am told tlat in those parts of the coun- try in which the church lands were sold, the population has been since nearly doubled in numbers, that the soil is better cultivated than it was before, and that the inha- bitants have been much benefited by the change. — The present annual revenue of the Tuscan government is 680,000 pounds sterling. This people have, like the French, a good share of amour-propre ; they are not at all ashamed to relate stories in which self is made to act the most brilliant part. The empty bragging of John Bull is about as insolent as can be; the conceit of the Scotch coolly assumes that the best of all that is good is to be found in Scotland ; Paddy lies in his own praise as if from pure love of lying. I have heard an Irishman talk of his ** domain" in Ireland, at the same time when I firmly believe that all his estate in this world (the clothes upon liis back excepted, and any cash out of the question) was included within the limits of one long travelling trunk. Our three little countries are all equally great, in their diflferent ways, in this species of vanity. Now, the people of this continent are not hig in their boasting, but, on the contrary, they will condescend to be little ; and this littleness, the very temperance they show in the indulgence of their vanity, draws upon them our contempt Avhen they would claim our applause. The praising of oneself for a trifle is always in danger of a mere " Well, what of that?'' while pretenders to l\f i FLORENCE. 32^ merit incredible, undaunted by the chance of " What a lie I " have the credit, at least, for greatness in false- hood, besides all that credulity would grant them " if it should be true." I was introduced to an Italian cavalier to-day, who, as the introducer said, had been in the French army during the reign of Bonaparte, and had served under the Emperor. A deal was said about battles, but nothing about wounds received or deeds performed. Yet he listened to all that was said of him- self in his own presence with a complacency that could scarcely be called decent. The hero of the tale was sitting between me and its relator, at a dinner-table, the latter looking across to me and telling all the wonderful sights that his friend had seen, while the cavaliere kept nodding his head in confirmation of each tact, and making large eyes as if in astonishment at himself. " Yes, Sir," said he, w^hen I was in hopes that enough had been said about nothing, " and I once had my horse killed under me ! " No living horse, I dare say, was ever harder ridden than the dead one of this military officer. — When we were at Marseilles, we saw a man dining at the table-d'hote, who openly made much of himself for being grandson of Marshal Blucher. He was a coarse-looking fellow, overbearing in his manners, tra- velling towards Italy from Montpellier, and giving himself the same airs, for the same reason, at every place in which he stopped. This, to be sure, was a sort of person which, to the honour of all nations alike, is seldom to be met with any where; and he was neither Italian nor V 330 FLORENCE. Frencliman, but German, or Prussian, or sometliing of the kind. His presence was quite loathsome to any one having a drop of English blood in their veins : he boasted of Blucheh as one who had assisted England to thrust the Bourbons down the throats of the people of France, and swelled with pride in describing how " les dames Anglaises " (the English ladies) ran out in crowds into the open streets of our towns to kiss the grizzly muzzle of his grandfather ! — Titles of honour are very numerous here, and they are all to be obtained by purchase. To become a cavalier e, the rendering of some public service, or the possession of some peculiar talent, is necessary; but almost any thing in the way of either of these is sufficient : I have heard of a man at Rome who was knighted for being an uncommonly good fiddler. The French, when in Italy, did much towards abolishing the superfluous language of title. But a great deal of it remains in use. The mayor of the city of Pisa lately refused to receive a communication which came to him by post, because all the offices he filled in the state and all the titles that belong to him were not expressed in its direction. The usual superscription of a letter to any gentleman here is, " AlV onorevole Signore, il Signer — ," or, " ilZ garbatissimo Signore, il Signor ," or, ^' Air ornatissimo, or, I llustrissimo Signore, Sig* nore Padrone colendissimo^ il Signor — *' (words which cannot possibly be translated without turning re- verence into ridicule). Persons belonging to the higher orders in Italy have, PIETRA-MALA. 331 I think, a good deal more of gentility about them, in their dress and general exterior appearance, than the same part of society in France. They are more comely and more commanding in person. Italian ladies and gentlemen are also more careful than the French to have clean faces and hands. 7^A.— Same weather (82). ^th. Pietra-Mala {on our road to Bologna).-^ Same weather (81). — We are now going right across the Apennines, and Pietra-Mala, a little town or horgo, is at about half-way over them. — We have here got into quite a new country already, and quite a new climate : Florence in a hole, and Pietra-Mala comparatively on a pinnacle ; the air of the former really hot, that of the latter having some of the freshness of autumn. — There is a sinsrular kind of volcano in a barren field at about a mile from this place ; it is a small heap of stones and gravel, over the surface of which there is a constant and clear flame of fire. The heap, I suppose, has been made by artificial means. There is not the least appearance of eruption any further than the flame that proceeds from the ground. I see the people here bleaching their wheat-straw for the making of bonnets. The wheat is cut, or pulled up by the roots, while quite green ; then tied, at the lower end of the stem, in grips or very small bundles ; and then, with the straw spread apart in fan-shape, it is laid out upon the grass, and becomes bleached by the alternate effects of the dew and the sun. V \ \ t|lik' 1^ i 332 BOLOGNA. BOLOGNA. 333 1^ I '"1 9th, Bologna. — Same weather (80). — There are no towns of any importance between this and Florence, There are borgos, however, and post-houses, very plea- santly situated; Pietra-Mala is particularly so. The distance from Florence here is about forty miles. We entered the Bolognese territory on quitting Pietra-Mala. It was Apannine mountains the whole way from Florence, till very near this city, which stands in a fine well-cul- tivated country, but a short distance clear of the moun- tains. Our road, for almost the whole way, was delight- ful for a hilly country : a constant succession of agreeable ops and downs. A good deal of the country is sterile, but the boldness of the views makes amends for this. The woodland is principally of chesnut and oak. Much of the country is quite destitute as to olives and vines, instead of which the traveller is regaled with the sight of verdure on the tops of the hills, occasioned by the moderation of the climate in heat. Some situations, particularly that part of the road lying between Pietra- Mala and Poggioli, are exposed to great cold and cut- ting winds during winter. — The sheep on the mountains are comparatively very good. . , 10^^. — Same weather (82). — We are more pleased with this city, regarding it merely as an assemblage of streets and houses, than with any other we have seen. The buildings, both within the city itself, and in the country round about it, are beyond all comparison more neat, and what we should term more respect^ able, than those we left in Tuscany. This observation applies especially to the farm or country houses, which are here more; like those of England than any thing I have seen to the South. The striking appearance of cleanliness in the dwellings of the citizens is to be attri- buted to a custom of white-washing the outsides every year at the time of the festival of Corpus Domini. The churches, and other public edifices, are very fine. EoLOGNA is considered a dull city. All the houses have piazzas in front of them, and to these much of the dullness is attributed. The city, however, has the look of wealth and prosperity, solidity and comfort about it, and there is no appearance of falling off in any way. The shops are fine; the market large, clean, and most abundantly supplied with all kinds of provisions. There was absolutely no butter to be had in Rome when we left that place: here it is excellent and in plenty. The people here are good-looking, and seem to be industrious and bustling in their business. The territory of the Pope is divided into twenty Dele- gations, as they are called. This city is the capital of the one called Bologna. The Delegation of Bologna is 570 miles square in extent, and its population is 379,000, of which about 75,000 are inhabitants of the capital. J?o- logna furnishes the Pope with a large part of his revenue. In the Academy of Fine Arts here there is a collection of pictures, not numerous, but some of them, as I am told, are of the best in all Italy. There are beautifuland ancient churches, one of them fourteen hundred years old. The Italian word roba has nearly as many meanings ,!•' ,\ n* i' JERRARA. as has the word thing in all languages. All that is eaten and drunk here is roba ,- the clothes you wear are roba ; merchandise of every description is roba ; house- bold furniture is roba ; materials for making all kinds of things are roba ; theluggage of travellers is their roba, and travellers themselves are but the roba of those who have to carry them ; every thing is roba, I asked the coach- man who was driving us about the town to-day, to tell me what was an old tomb that we saw supported upon pillars: "^/i," said he, ^*roba antica" ! (ancient roba.) I asked an Italian if he was acquainted with a certain family in Rome : " Si, si, conosco bene tutta questa roba:'* (Yea, yes, I know all that roba well.) Among the theatres of Bologna there is one called fTeatro del Giorno, or Day- Theatre, It is open, like any amphitheatre, having no roof over it, and the dra- matic representations take place here bi/ day -light. The theatre is opened in the cool of the afternoon, and the play is over before sunset. So much do the habits of nations depend upon fair or foul weather ! I should have supposed it almost impossible for any play-goers to endure a stage full of wretched comedians in the light of the sun. Yet the Bolognesi have evidently a different way of thinking. I dare say that they would find as little to console them in our fireside as I did to entertain me in their Teatro del Giorno. Alas, " John Bulls fire- side " ! the comfort of which arises from the discomfort of being any where but at the side of the fire. 11/^. Ferrara. — Same weather (82). — The road MONSELICE. 335 hither is through a perfectly flat, but fine, country ; a country of rich corn-land and vineyards, the vines trained to poplars and elms. Much hemp is grown here. I have seen more green grass within these last three days than I have seen before ever since we came into Italy. Ferrara is another Delegation of the Church. This city has the appearance of being greatly sunk in import- ance. It has 23,000 inhabitants. The air is said to be bad, on account of the marshy land in its neighbourhood. Here, in the public library, are to be seen manuscripts (said to be the originals) of the Gerusalemme Liberata and the Pastor Fido, Beneath the Hospital of Sant ' Anna is the cell to which the unfortunate Tasso was doomed. It is a confined damp apartment, with a low ceiling, a narrow entrance, and a window-place sufficient to admit but a little light through a strong grating. The walls and door-way of this abode of genius bear the name of many a traveller scratched upon them. The tomb of Ariosto is also here, and they show you the chair and the inkstand of, as Voltaire calls him, the greatest of them all. He was, to say the least, the greatest in the art of making verses. \2th. MoNSELiCE. — Rather cloudy (84).— Soon after quitting Ferrara we came to the river Po, across which our carriage was brought on a large boat, called ^flying bridge, which, being attached to a rope on a long string of small boats, was impelled by the current of the river. The Po is of great width, and so subject to swell and to overflow its banks, that travellers are not i' a i I 334 JERRARA, as has the word thing in all languages. All that is eaten and drunk here is roba ; the clothes you wear are roba ; merchandise of every description is roba ; house- hold furniture is roba ; materials for making all kinds of things are roba ; thelaggage of travellers is their roba, and travellers themselves are but the roba of those who have to carry them ; every thing is roba. I asked the coach- man who was driving us about the town to-day, to tell jne what was an old tomb that we saw supported upon pillars: "^A,** said he, ^^roba antica" ! (ancient roba.) I asked an Italian if he was acquainted with a certain family in Rome : " Si, si, conosco bene tutta questa roba:'' (Yes, yes, I know all that roba well.) Among the theatres of Bologna there is one called Teatro del Giorno, or Day-Theatre. It is open, like any amphitheatre, having no roof over it, and the dra- matic representations take place here by day-light. The theatre is opened in the cool of the afternoon, and the play is over before sunset. So much do the habits of nations depend upon fair or foul weather ! I should have supposed it almost impossible for any play-goers to endure a stage full of wretched comedians in the light of the sun. Yet the Bolognesi have evidently a different way of thinking. I dare say that they would find as little to console them in our fire-side as I did to entertain me in their Teatro del Giorno. Alas, " John Bull's fire- side " ! the comfort of which arises from the discomfort of being any where but at the side of the fire. II th. FEaaAEA. — ^Same weather (82), — The road MONSFLICE. 335 hither is through a perfectly flat, but fine, country; a country of rich corn-land and vineyards, the vines trained to poplars and elms. Much hemp is grown here. I have seen more green grass within these last three days than I have seen before ever since we came into Italy. Ferrara is another Delegation of the Church. This city has the appearance of being greatly sunk in import- ance. It has 23,000 inhabitants. The air is said to be bad, on account of the marshy land in its neighbourhood. Here, in the public library, are to be seen manuscripts (said to be the originals) of the Gerusalemme Liberata and the Pastor Fido. Beneath the Hospital of Sant ' Anna is the cell to which the unfortunate Tasso was doomed. It is a confined damp apartment, with a low ceiling, a narrow entrance, and a window-place sufficient to admit but a little light through a strong grating. The walls and door-way of this abode of genius bear the name of many a traveller scratched upon them. The tomb of Ariosto is also here, and they show you the chair and the inkstand of, as Voltaire calls him, the greatest of them all. He was, to say the least, the greatest in the art of making verses. 12^/i. MoNSELiCE. — Rather cloudy (84).— Soon after quitting Ferrara we came to the river Po, across which our carriage was brought on a large boat, called 2l flying bridge, which, being attached to a rope on a long string of small boats, was impelled by the current of the river. The Po is of great width, and so subject to swell and to overflow its banks, that travellers are not 1 f> } '\ ;l I h ! 1 \ '§ ^ \f \ 336 MONSELICE. always certain of being able to get over it. On this side of the river we were in the dominions of the Austrians, and had to stop to have our luggage well rummaged at the custom-house of their government. The officers, how- ever, though scrupulous in turning every atom of what we had topsy-turvy, were very civil. Books are the things here looked at with the most suspicion, and all those which relate to any thing like politics are narrowly examined. There were some copies of the " Protestant Reformation " in my portmanteau, on which the supe- rior oflEicer pounced with piercing eye. I soon began to repent the having any such roba about me j the officer would not, at first, undertake to allow it to pass upon his own authority, and said that it would require us to be accompanied all the way to Venice by a military escort! But he was a good-natured sort of a man, and, I suppose, did not apprehend much mischief in the way of ** liber- alism " from what he saw of me : I coaxed him so far as to get free of the company he promised us. The lan- guage was, luckily, his own ; so that he could make out the meaning of the title-page ; otherwise we should cer- tainly have had the gens-d'arme. There are several places (one near Ferrara) along this road, at which travellers may get on board a boat, and go, by river or canal and the sea, all the way to Venice. We stopped at Rovigo, on the river Adigetto, a town of considerable size, and soon after quitting that place crossed the river Adige, a large stream. — The rivers are full of floating corn-mills.— The road here is very sandy. VENICE. 337 The little town of Monselice^ a manufacturing place, is situated in a remarkably beautiful and picturesque spot. The buildings stand at the base and round the «ides of a lofty peeked hill, which is finely ornamented by evergreens, and on the top of which there is an old castle. At a short distance off, to the left of the road, is another mountain, a perfect pyramid in form, called Monte-Ricco. — The inns become better in this direc- tion : more clean ; that is to say, less dirty. IZth, Venice. (In Italian, Venezia), Beautiful day (83). — From Monselice to Padua the road is al- most perfectly straight, and runs alongside of a canal. Pac/wa, which now contains about 31,000 inhabitants, tells you what it once was, a large and important city. At present there is little to admire about it. The edifice of its formerly magnificent university, the school-house of Petrarch, Columbus, and Galileo, is the greatest of its sights. This is the country of Livy. — Here is an excellent hotel: the Stella d'Oro (Golden Star) at Padua is really a constellation of convenience and com- fort to all who have been within the talons of the Black Eagle at Viterbo. The province of Padua (population 288,000) abounds in fertility of soil. It is watered by the Brenta and the Bacchiglione, besides the canals which run from these rivers in various directions. After leaving Padua we came, on a fine road, through several little towns and villages, by the side of the Brenta to Fusina, a very small place on the shore. For miles towards Venice the l! :'J !^ I ii 338 .TV EN ICE. .-VENICE. 339 river-side is adorned witli neat country liouses and pretty gardens, and summer viUas of the Venetian gentry; a country greatly different from that of the mountains and plains between Florence and Rome. All here is as flat as a pancake : no olives at all, but vines trained to high trees. Fine corn-land ; plenty of green pasturage, grass, and lucerne ; much Indian corn (a crop now ripe) ; fields inclosed with banks and hedges ; live hedges round the gardens, of the altheafrtitex, which, neatly cropped and in blossom, makes a very ornamental fence. There is no more luxuriance here than on the other side of the Apennines ; but what you see here corresponds more with our idea of the fat of the land. There is more that is green, more succulence in vegetation in general— Sedge grows here in great quantities, in places where the land is watered. It is used for litter, and also for thatching : many of the roofs of the farm-houses are thatched, just as in England. Between Monselice and Padua, to the left of our load, is the little town oi Arqua, at which Petrarch lived, and where his tomb is to be seen. More show in flower-gardens here than I have seen ^•kewhere. We obser^'e that it is a fashion with the country-women to wear little nosegays stuck in their hair. Coming near to Ftisina we caught sight of Venice and the Adriatic. For the two or three last miles the country was a marshy and bleak tract of land, looking .aa if the sea had only lately retreated from it. The per- fect flatness of the land from which Venice is seen on approaching the shore, makes this city appear to be actually floating on the water, and has caused her to be called a siren rising from the sea. There is no looking down upon Venice, as upon Genoa, Florence, and Na- ples. From the main land to the city, the clear expanse of sea is four miles or more in distance; and, till you come very near, nothing like land is to be seen, nothing but the houses, cupolas of churches, towers, and spires. One who should come here without ever having heard of such a sight, would suppose, on a distant view, that the city must be set afloat upon a raft, or that the founda- tions of it were established at the very bottom of the sea. I4th. — Very warm : thunder this afiernoon {S5). The scirocco is distressing at this time. The Venetians, I hear, are much visited with the scirocco j it renders the city disagreeable in summer-time. As soon as we were seen to approach Fusina last night, a noise arose amongst many paddlers oi gondolas ^ as to which should have us for his fare. There was a public-house just on the shore, in which numbers of them were dancing to a merry tune. Declamation still louder afterwards took place on the question of how much was to pay } and we learned, before we had been an hour with the Venetians, that, with a dialect more tolerable than those of Genoa and Naples, they aie as formidable in the war of words as any of their neighbours. We landed at the Europa hotel, the steps of the front-door of which run down into the sea. The sun had gone down some time before we got here, there was not a q2 \ , VENICE. 341 340 VENICE. cloud in the sky, the air was in a complete calm, and the sea as quiet as a duck-pond. The moon, shining on the domes of the churches, and through the rigging of the ships, and making a long streak upon the water before our windows, had additional brightness from the novelty of what it shined upon— a scene really novel, for it seems like being both in town and at sea at one and the same time. A^eat number of the houses in Venice are built upon piles," having no terra frma to support them. The ground above water originally consisted of one hundred and thirty-eight small islands. None of these were many feet from the^'surface of the sea : so that much labour must have been expended in making foundations, and all of them are on the same level. Most of the islands are contiguous to one another, and have been consolidated, as it were, by the building of houses, there being only a few standing quite separate, and at any distance, from the main body. AH the streets, excepting only one, are so narrow as to be mere alleys, and they are all paved with flat stones.'' The city is divided into two equal parts by the sea, which flows through it in the form of a small strait or wide canal. Besides the alleys, there are smaller canals, wide enough only to admit two or three gondolas abreast, which run in all directions through the city ; and the course of the alleys is continued over the canals by means of innumerable little bridges. The houses, which are high, are mostly built of stone. Many of them are square, having open courts within them; and those which stand close upon the canals have two entrances, one door leading into the street, and another from which the inhabitants may step into their gondola, I5th, — Fine, with a little rain (80). — Venice has a population of 110,000 inhabitants. Trieste is now be- fore this city in respect to commerce ; but the trade of Venice is still pretty large. A great deal is imported, and sent from here by the Po, the Adige, and the canals, into the interior of Italy. — For churches, Venice ranks next alone to Rome, both as to the number of them, and their splendour. There are 51 piazze, or open spaces, in the city ; the city is divided into 30 parishes ; there are 23 hospitals, 59 convents, 12 abbeys, 8 theatres, and the children of Israel here have 3 synagogues. The grand piazza called Sa7i Marco, with the church of San Marco at one end of it, is a spacious oblong, mea- suring 303 feet by 1 09. The square tower of the church, at the top of which Galilei used to make his observa- tions in astronomy, stands out in the piazza, and is 332 feethigh. The buildings around the piazza are lofty, uni- form, and remarkably fine. The ground floors are occu- pied as coffee-houses, or by shopkeepers, who make a fine show with their wares : the promenade around is wide, and roofed with a colonnade. The Piazza di San Marco has much of the Eastern about it. The open space, with the buildings, are, take all their parts together, by far the finest sight of the kind that I have ever seen ; the church, with its many domes, is after the style of St, Sophias at Constantinople ; and in the piazza you see, among the people of many nations that walk about I VI ^) 342 VENICE. VENICE. 343 'M there, great numbers of Greeks and Turks, dressed in their crimson caps and white turbans, big breeches, and crimson jackets and ieggins embroidered with gold. Every coffee-house or house of refreshment, and the colonnade, were crowded this evening with ladies and gentlemen, the women eating ices and the men drinking coffee or smoking tobacco. The Turks, Greeks, and Dutchmen, keep somewhat distinct from one another in their coffee-houses ; every man of them has a pipe from one to four feet long stuck in his mouth, and all seem to be contending who shall make most smoke. In the evenings the people are entertained by the performance of a^rand musical band of Austrian military, who make a most ostentatious display of their art in the middle of the j)iazzay and aid, by their " damnable music," to lull the poor Venetians into a forgetfulncss of former indepen- dence. Venice is a treat to all lovers of the fine arts : the walls of the Academy are richly decked with the pro- ductions of Venetian painters, and the public build- ings, the churches, and the palaces, have all more or less of painting or sculpture in them. One cannot help feel- ing regret, on reflecting that canvas and colours are not as durable as marble — that either of the two should be doomed to last less long than the other, when both have been made so far deser\'ing to be eternal ! The interior decorations of some of the churches are wonderfully beautiful. The church of the Jesuits is very fine in this respect. Its marble pulpit is the handsomest I have seen, and the steps leading up to the altar are wrought with marble in such a way as to make you believe that they are spread with a rich carpet. — The church of San Marco, almost every inch of the building both within and without, is all ornament and gorgeoua- ness. Its pillars and walls are of the rarest oriental marbles, granite, and porphyry. The floor is all in mosaic made of the same materials. On its principal facade, fronting the piazza, are the four bronze gilt horses, as large as life, which stood on a triumphal arch at Paris for eighteen years, and which were originally brought to Italy from Corinth. From these horses, which Bonaparte carried oft' to Paris, are made the ones which now stand in the Place Carrousel of that city. The brass doors of the church were brought from Con- stantinople. Some of the ceiling is so finely wrought in mosaic and gilt as to look like the most beautiful tapestry.* — In this church is said to be preserved tho * The principal manufactory of mosaic is conducted, on a grand scale, in the Vatican at Rome. Mosaic in general, and that which produces the finest effect, as in the imitations of painting in St. Peter's, consists, as to the material, in nothing more thaa glass. In the manufactory at Rome the material to work upon is so prepared as for there to be varieties of shades in colour to the number of eighteen thousand. It is always in one form, in square pieces, uniform in both shape and size, only larger or bmaller according to the scale of what is to be produced. The little pieces are all put together in a block, with, I believe, some kind of cement, and then the surface of the whole is ground off and polished. The art consists in a just arrangement of the dif- i 1/ ! 344 VENICE. VENICE. 345 I i manuscript Gospel of the Saint to whom it is dedicated^ and written in St, Mark's own hand. Immediately adjoining the church stands the Palazzo Ducale, a beautiful Gothic building, once the palace of the Doges of Venice. It is square, with a large court in the centre ; and at the top of a flight of steps leading up to a gallery which runs around the building over this court, they show you the spot on which Marino Faliero lost his head. A few feet from that spot there is a small hole in the wall, said to be the medium by which the political informers, the Olivers and Castleses and Edwardses of Venice, used to make their written communications. There are magnificent halls in the palace, and round the walls of the largest of these are the portraits of all the Doges of Venice. FALiERo'salone is omitted : in place of a picture for him there is a square black blank, with an inscription upon it to his dishonour. This palace contains a large council- chamber or senatorial hall, fitted up with benches and a ferent parts, and in the choice of colours. When a fac-simile of a painting has to be made, a mere mechanic in the business first puts tbe pieces together ; and then an artist comes over it to make nice alterations. In making mosaics on a very small scale, such as the rings, ear-rings, brooches, and other trinkets that are sold in the shops at Rome, the pieces of different colour put together are so minute, and they are so closely joined, that it requires a strong light and a good eye to discover the ingenious delusion. This art is of very ancient origin : but it is one in which the moderns have outdone the ancients beyond comparison. throne, which still remain in their original state; and you see the apartments that used to be occupied by the high oflScers of state, and those in which the tribunals were held. Immediately under these latter are the ■prisons so much talked of, called Pozzi degV Inquisi- tori, or Wells of the Inquisitors. These prisons consist of very small and perfectly dark apartments. They are hardly more than high enough for a man to stand upright in them. There are the remains of some rotting plank which was laid just clear of the floor as a bed for the prisoners ; and air enough to preserve life was ad- mitted through a small strongly -barred aperture at one side of the door. The passages leading to these apart- ments are very narrow, and quite dark, so that little circulation of air, and no light at all, could find their way into the dungeons. On one of the walls, near the air- hole, there are stains evidently of blood, occasioned, as we were told, at the death of a prisoner who, ac- cording to the custom of the hiquisitors, was strangled against the window-bars, a rope being put round his neck, and drawn through the grating. We were shown these sights by a guide, whose interest it is to make them as well worth seeing, that is, as frightful, as he can ; but you see enough here, without listening to the cicerone, to make you shudder. If the treatment of those who were condemned to inhabit these places were only con- sistent with the form and situation of the dungeons them- selves, the atrocity of it cannot be exaggerated. The prisons are on three stories, one above the other j they Q 5 VI } ill 346 V.ESflCE, VENICE. 347 are all damp ; the lowest are beneath the level of the canal which runs between the outer wall of the palace and that of a palace-like prison, and over which, to form a secret communication between the two buildings, is thrown a strong covered way, called II ponte de' Sospiri, or, the Bridge of Sighs. In the lower cells there is so much water as to make them literally wells • and these, it is said, the inquisitors had to drown their victims in. There are many inscriptions, partly in the dialect of Venice, made with black chalk or coal, or by scratching, on the walls and ceilings of some of the cells ; besides roush'sketches, amonojst which is that of a church and belfry, supposed to have been made by a person belong- iiJ^ to the church. The following are, for the meaning of the w^ords, the most interesting of the inscriptions : — Non ti fidar di alcuno, pcnsa e taci, Se fugir vuoi de spioni, iusidie, e lacci : II pentirti, il pentirti nulla giova ; Ma ben del valor tuo fa vera prova. De chi me fido guardami Iddio . De clii no me fido me guarderu io. W. La S!* Cfc« K« R»* * • From those whom I trust may God defend me: From those whom I trust not I shall defend myself. Long live ibt Mo^^Rwian Catholic Qhurch, Va 'parl« poco, Et un negar pronto, Et un pensar al fine, Sol dar la vita a noi altri meschini. £lgo Joanes Baptist a. AP. Ecclesiam Cortelarius. 1605. Tiva Andrea Tardivello, Orese da Padoa, bon compagno ; Viva Lorenzo : no posso tornar in diio— ma spero. Odie mihif Cras tibi, * ^S Agosto, 1793 G.M. B. fu messo in questo camerotto in- giustissimamente, e se Dio non viripiega sara 1' ultima desolazione di una povera, numerosa, ed onesta famiglia.t These inscriptions, of men who have tasted persecu- tion, contain some sound maxims for those who make themselves busy in the opposing of tyrants. The neces- sity of being slow to confide, and the danger of being betrayed, are the subjects of most of them. It is possible * Long life to Andrew Tardivello, goldsmith of Padua, a good companion ; Long life to Lorenzo : I cannot come back— but I hope. For me to-day, For tJice to-morrow* . t 23 August, 1795 G. M. B. was most unjustly put into this dungeon ; and if God do not help him, it will be the complete destruction of a poor, numerous, and honest family. l!( 348 VENICE. VENICE. 349 i i h that they may not all have been left by the prisoners themselves, who must, at any rate, have been fur- nished with some artificial light to make them by. f Thank God, there are no such dungeons, no such tor- tures in the dark and for the untried, in England!*' must be our involuntary exclamation here : thus I was about to exclaim, when I happened to think of Mr. Canning's ** revered and ruptured Ogden." Venice is famous for its typographical trade. It is one of the greatest book-marts in the world. — The island of San Lazaro, which is at a little distance clear of the city, is one of the curiosities of Venice. It is inhabited by a society of Armenians, who have a monastery there, and who teach the oriental languages. They educate Armenian youth, and the Armenian language is that of the island. The society have a printing-press of their own, and make books in all languages. This society was founded in 1717, by Meciutar, an Armenian Doctor of Divinity, whose life was spent in endeavours to in- struct the people of his own country, and whose adven- tures, with the history of the society here, are very interesting. There is a public garden, or small park, at one extre- mity of the city, which was made by Bonaparte, Great numbers of the citizens were there this evening (Sunday), some going and coming on foot along a fine quay, a mile and a half long, others by water in the little boats of Venice. A gondola would be the prettiest thing of the kind in the world, if it were not for the dolefulness of its colour. It is absolutely prohibited by the govern- ment to have any colour but one alone, and this prohibi- tion arose from the extravagant rivalship amongst the inhabitants in the costliness and finery of their gondolas. These boats are, seemingly, all exactly of one size, and they are quite uniform in construction. They measure about 36 feet long, and 4 feet 9 inches across at the middle. The thing is very much in the shape of an Esquimaux Indian's canoe, looking so light, and drawing^ so little water, that you might think it were made of cork. It turns up considerably at each end, and, what adds much to its elegance, the keel, both in front and at the stern, is for some feet in length clear out of the water. There is a large piece of flat polished steel on the prow, of singular shape ; it resembles a cleaver, and at the lower part of it are six deep notches, exhibiting as many dentelli, or oblong teeth. I cannot find out what the origin of this ornament is. The boat is partly decked, and, nearly in the middle of it, is a little apart- ment under roof, with a door fronting the prow, and only high enough to be entered by stooping. This has a long window on each side, with sliding sashes, and silk and Venetian blinds; and the interior, which will contain four persons, is nicely fitted up with cushions to sit upon and a carpet for the feet. The outside of this cabin has a hanging of black cloth, and the whole of the vessel is painted jet black ; so that, elegant as the thing is in shape, it has altogether the look of a hearse going by water. There is but one thole-pin on either side, and \ I/' III ii 35ft; VENICE. VERONA. 351 the two are at unequal distances, one before the cabin and the other behind it. The gondoliere stands up to row : if there be but one man, he stands next the stern, and with a long oar, rowing only on one side, and having no rudder, he sends the bark along at a swift rate and holds it within its course to the greatest nicety. People go out visiting here in the gondola, as those of other cities do with their carriages and horses. The Venetian ladies and gentlemen go out for an airing rowed by their own footmen in livery. 16M. — Fair. Scirocco very disagreeable (78). — The Rialto is a bridge, of no considerable length, which crosses the main canal with one arch. It has a row of. small shops on each side of it, and is now, T suppose, a-. scene of business about in proportion to what the whole city is, compared with its state during the time of the Shy locks and the Antonios, The manufactures of Venice are very various. The shops are w^ell stocked and showy. The people have the character of affability and gayety. They rank next to the Neapolitans in the gift of speech, to aid which by the making of signs appears to be more or less necessary in all parts of Italy. When an Italian speaks of numbers, of any not ex- ceeding ten, it is a common habit with him to hold up so many fingers : it is said of the Neapolitans, that it would be awkward for them to talk about riding on horseback, without accompanying the words "a car vallo" by putting the fore and middle fingers of ona : hand astride over the fore-finger of the other. — The poor of this city are in great numbers : I am informed that out of the whole population (110,000) not less than 20,000 may be reckoned as -paupers. Our hotel is the best situated one in the city. We pay 6s. the day for two large rooms, Is. 8c?. apiece for breakfast, and 2s. Qd. apiece for dinner at the table d' hole. I7th, ViCENZA.— Fair (74).— The same vetturino who brought us from Bologna is taking us on to Milan. We retraced our steps to Padua, and then turned off in a new direction to come hither. Vicenza is a nice city, waUed in, with about 23,000 inhabitants, and situated, between mountains, on the nvei Bacchiglmie. The streets are spacious, and there is a fine piazza. The country is of rich soil. There is some rice grown here. Much of the land is irrigated by the canals, and by large ditches which branch from them. Here are willows and alders, and grass-land. Good Indian corn, grown on ridges at about four feet asunder. Much corn, judging by the stubble, all the corn harvest, except that of Indian corn, being finished long ago. Vines grown in rows, trained to walnut-trees, mulberry-trees, and willows. The wine here is good ; but not equal to . the Friench* ISth, Verona.— Fair. This morning was quite chilly (73). — We came through Montebello, Caldiero, and San-MartinOyihTee little towns, at the two former of which Bonaparte gained victories over the Austrians. We had the Alps in view on the right of our road. 1/ } . ! Ill' .' ( 352 BRESCIA. BRESCIA. 353 Verona contains 50,000 inhabitants. The situation of the city is very picturesque : the river Adige, over which there are four stone bridges, divides it into two parts. — In the immense Piazza stands the Amphi- theatre, said to have been built in the time of Trajan. It is almost perfect, and capable of containing nearly one half the inhabitants of the city. The tombs of the Scaligers, in a small church-yard, are very curious. The marble sarcophagus, called the Tomb of Juliet, is to be seen in the garden of an old convent just outside the city, Verona, though a fine old town, and, like all such places on this side, infinitely superior to those on the other side of the Apennines, is more to be admired for its situ- ation than for any thing besides. Here, between Venice and Milan, we are in one of the richest parts of the rich country of Lombardy. It is, I suppose, the most pro- ductive district of all Italy : fertile land, yielding corn, wine, silk, rice, hemp and flax, green pasturage, and (upon the hills and mountains) olive-oil. 19^A. Brescia. — Fine clear day (75). — The climate of this part of Italy, as far as we have felt it, is ex* tremely pleasant. — We come through Peschiera and Desengano, Brescia, like Padua, Vicenza, and VeroJia, is the capital of one of the provinces into which this part of Italy is divided. It is another fine city, situated at the foot of a mountain, and having 34,000 inhabitants. Peschiera is on the Mincio, very near to where that river flows out of the Lake of Garda, This place is a fortress, one of the strong-holds of the Austrians in Italy, and has a large barrack, apparently well filled with Austrian soldiers. There is a great deal of verdure in this country, even at this season of the year, when it seems, at the same time, to be wanting in none of those fine fruits that heat is required to produce. The fig, peach, &c., are cer- tainly not seen in such abundance here as further to the south; yet we find quite enough of them. Water- melons are in great plenty. After passing Peschiera, we came, for about seven miles, on a level road, alongside of the Lake of Garda, the finest of the three great lakes of this part of Italy which have been celebrated by Virgil and Catullus. We stopped and dined at the village of Desenzano, in a very good inn, the windows and balcony at the back of which are close on the brink of the lake. The view of Garda from this situation is exceedingly beautiful. It is still called by its original name also, Benaco {Benacus). Virgil extols Benacus above the other two, attributing to it a sea- like surge. The water is as clear as crystal. On the opposite side from Desenzano the lake continues up between Alpine mountains in the direction of the - country called Tyrol. None of the encomiums, many and high as they are, that have been passed on this lake, are beyond its due. I am not much experienced in lakes ; but this is by far the finest piece of inland water that I have ever seen. It would be comparatively nothing without the lofty mountains : but with these it i/' t 35t BRESCIA. Verona contains 50,000 inhabitants. The situation of the city is very picturesque : the river Adige, over which there are four stone bridges, divides it into two parts. — In the immense Piazza stands the Amphi- theatre, said to have been built in the time of Trajan, It is almost perfect, and capable of containing nearly one half the inhabitants of the city. The tombs of the Scaligers, in a small church-yard, are very curious. The marble sarcophagus, called the Tomb of Juliet, is to be seen in the garden of an old convent just outside the city. Verona, though a fine old town, and, like all such places on this side, infinitely superior to those on the other side of the Apennines, is more to be admired for its situ- ation than for any thing besides. Here, between Venice and Milan, we are in one of the richest parts of the rich country of Lombardy. It is, I suppose, the most pro- ductive district of all Italy : fertile land, yielding corn, wine, silk, rice, hemp and flax, green pasturage, and (upon the hills and mountains) olive-oil. 19M. Brescia. — Fine clear day (75). — The climate of this part of Italy, as far as we have felt it, is ex- tremely pleasant. — We come through Peschiera and Desengano. Brescia, like Padua, Vicenza, and Verona, is the capital of one of the provinces into which this part of Italy is divided. It is another fine city, situated at the foot of a mountain, and having 34,000 inhabitants. Peschiera is on the Mincio, very near to where that river fiows out of the Lake of Garda, This place is a fortress^ BRESCIA. 353 one of the strong-holds of the Austrians in Italy, and has a large barrack, apparently well filled with Austrian soldiers. There is a great deal of verdure in this country, even at this season of the year, when it seems, at the same time, to be wanting in none of those fine fruits that heat is required to produce. The fig, peach, &c., are cer- tainly not seen in such abundance here as further to the south; yet we find quite enough of them. Water- melons are in great plenty. After passing Peschiera, we came, for about seven miles, on a level road, alongside of the Lake of Garda, the finest of the three great lakes of this part of Italy which have been celebrated by Virgil and Catullus. We stopped and dined at the village of Desenzano, in a very good inn, the windows and balcony at the back of which are close on the brink of the lake. The view of Garda from this situation is exceedingly beautiful. It is still called by its original name also, Benaco {Benacus), Virgil extols Benacus above the other two, attributing to it a sea- like surge. The water is as clear as crystal. On the opposite side from Descnzano the lake continues up between Alpine mountains in the direction of the country called Tyrol. None of the encomiums, many and high as they are, that have been passed on this lake, are beyond its due. I am not much experienced in lakes ; but this is by far the finest piece of inland water that I have ever seen. It would be comparatively nothing without the lofty mountains : but with these it iiy ' 354C BRESCIA. BRESCIA. 355 is truly grand. The lake is long in form, measuring fourteen miles in length, in a nearly straight line, from Peschiera to Riva^ at which latter place it terminates just on the frontiers of the Tyrol. The borders and the waters of Gar da produce almost all that man can u-ish for ; the plains are fertile in corn, vineyards, and pasturage ; both the vine and the olive-tree grow upon the mountains ; and in the lake itself are some of the best fish that can be, a fioil of white trout, resembling our salmon-peel, large in size, and fine in flavour. 1 was very sorry to come away from Desenzano in a state of mind not of perfect good will towards our host. His trout were of the kind that Gil Bias describes— that is, to be wxll paid for ; and for some white wine of the country which we had to drink the charge was enormous, enormous for this country, being about 3s. sterling the bottle. The wine (I forget its name) was some of the best I have tasted in Italy. We, however, and our tra- velling companions, could not help exclaiming at the price, and, what I liked least, the landlord, perceiving that he had over-stepped the mark a little too far, was at once willing to take about two-thirds of what he had asked. We parted with expressions tow^ards each other of the most uncourteous kind, I admonishing the vetturino not again to lead travellers iato the houses of sharpers, and- the landlord, who had; more of the Austrian than of' the Italian about him, answering my words by telling me that I was da mangiare la polenta (one that should live on polenta). This. was the most serious wrangle that I. have had any where, happening to be, too, in the most agreeable place. I cannot bear the necessity of bar- gaining beforehand for your entertainment, a thing that is done as much in France as in Italy. But, at the same time, I must do this country, generally speaking, a piece of justice as to the honesty of the people : I have been invited by what I have heard many travellers say to speak ill of the Italian inn-keepers, as well as of other dealers here; and this I never have done, and never, will do, as far as relates to exorbitant prices. We have now travelled a good distance through Italy, and are competent to judge ; and I must say that we have no charges of dishonesty to allege against the people that we Imve had to do with. Excepting in a very few in- stances, I do believe that we have been asked to pay not a farthing more than was just, and if the charge made has been sometimes too great, it was so in a degree so small as not to be worth disputing about. Taking into, consideration the comparative value of money in the two countries, I sincerely think that a stranger travelling in England would be likely to be overcharged half a crown where one similarly situated would not lose more than sixpence in Italy. Everybody says, I know, that the Italians make a harvest of the English. They must, indeed, be insensible to the charms of gold if they were not to do so ! How can they avoid doing it? We are. not to conclude, because thousands of rich English people, proud of their money and of the name which we have here for possessing that article in such abundance, choose 356 TRIVIGLIO. TRIVIGLIO. 357 to be squanderers, that the Italians, for being willing ta pick up what is thrown away, are dishonest and cheats ing. If they do impose upon some of the money-laden English, which I dare say is the case, they have, at least, the best excuse for the sin ; the temptation is more than any people can reasonably be expected to resist. Another thing, too, which all travellers must observe : there is no place that I have seen on the Continent where your luggage is not almost as safe in your carriage as it would be in a dw^elling-house. The French voiturin who took us to Pisa, and whose countrymen are most strictly honest in this respect, told us that we must look sharp after our things when we should get amongst " ces gens'* (the Italians). But I have met with nothing which would render such caution necessary in Italy, any more than in France. This says not a little in favour of the people for honesty, and is what no writing traveller can omit to notice without doing injustice to the nation. 20th. Triviglio. — Beautiful weather (76).— There is much more travelling on this road than any where else in Italy. The public roads are excellent They are good in all parts of this country that I have seen. The road here, over the level plains of Lombardy, is the very best I have ever seen in any part of the world. There are no turnpike-gates in Italy. The post-bags are carried by a courier, who goes, night and day, at a quick rate, and with a carriage that will carry several passengers. But stage-coaches, or diligences, are not the fashion in Italy. I know of but one, from Rome to Naples ; and that, for from 12 to 15 scudi {2L 10s. Od. to 3/. 3s. Sd.) takes you through the distance in one day and a night, or ia two days if you choose to sleep on the road. Triviglio is a large borgo, to which we come through other places, Chiaci; Calcio, Ospedaletto, and Cara- vaggio. The latter of these is the birth-place of the great artist whose two names the poet separates so happily: - quel, clie a par sculpe e colora, Michel, piu die mortale, Angel divino. Great lots of mulberry-trees grow here : silk in abun- dance. At Triviglio there are manufactures of silk and wool. Lucerne hay here very fine ; and we see them now mowing grass for hay. The grass fields looking as fresh as they do in England in the month of May. The whole of this part of Italy is artificially watered to an extent quite surprising. We continually see nice clear streams of water running by the road-side and across the land in all directions. The streams are, at this time of the year, led in many different courses into grass-fields, gardens, fields of rice and of Indian corn. When the landholder possesses no water-way himself, he pays so much for the irrigation of his land, there being ditches cut through every farm, and great numbers of floodgates to turn the water off by. The various effects produced by the warmth of the climate, and the great deal of water- ing at the same time, renders the agriculture of this country rich in a peculiar way : to see rows of tall vines, with their luxuriant shoots covered with grapes, hanging 1 / 1 11 f: .fTRTVIGLro. rfown all round the branches of every tree, over grass that rivals the verdure of an English water-meadow. The vines are trained in nearly the same way as in the plains of Pisa. Not much here, to be sure, of what is com- ' jnonly c?i]\ed picturesque ; but here is capital soil, and here are all the beauties in agriculture, those of Italy, "witli those of England, as far as possible combined. — The meat is better, and better cooked, throughout all this part of Italy, than further south. We have now and then long distances of perfectly •straight road : the road always quite level, in excellent order, and having stone posts all the way on each side of it. The horses, I observe, assume the German cast; and the population of this part are evidently much dashed •with foreign blood. The Austrian features and com- plexion are easily distinguished in many of the natives, •mnd by no means add to the charms of the country. The white-mustachioed soldiery are a remarkably ugly set of fellows. — The whole way from about Verona we have t-seen many beggars in the road. They come from their 'dwellings, or from the hedges, when they see a carriage, and kneel down, and rise as it approaches and run along- *Mde, crying out, Per V amor di Dio, carita, buon viaggio, &c. A good deal of Indian corn is now ripe. This "plant grows finely hereabouts, and the grain forms a ^large part of the food of the labouring people, who make t%read of it. It is eaten, also, and here more especially, Sn the shape of what is called polenta, the consistency of MILAN. 369 which is something between porridge and pudding. Mr. Arthur Young, who calls it "a noble plant," says that the people in all the Indian corn provinces live upon it, and find it by far more nourishing than any other bread, that of wheat alone excepted, and that wherever it is cultivated no lean oxen are to be seen, but all are in high order. He tells us that a real sugar has been made from it. But Mr. Young took it for granted that aZ/ idea of introducing it into England, except as a maU ter of curiosity , would be vain : a notion which has been completely refuted by recent experience. In some parts of Italy the people mix the Indian corn meal with potatoes when they make it into bread. I cannot account for the general custom of watering this plant on the lands of Lombardy. No farmer here thinks of having Indian corn without opening the sluices upon it. Such a thing is never done in the southern parts of this country; nor in America, where I have seen Indian corn ten feet high in a light loam, the leaves all curled up at the end of every day's hot sun, and expanded the next morning, green and fresh as ever, with large drops of dew standing along their edges like rows of pearl. 2\rst, Milan. (In Italian Milano.) — Same wea- ther: thunder and rain at night.— -Our ride to-day, was over a country pretty much the same, only more and more cultivated as we came near Milan. Some very pretty villas, with gardens full of flowers. 22ncZ.— I am glad that Milan is to be the last Italian city through which we are to pass ; for, taking it altogether, i«^' \ \ 360 MILAN. MILAN. 361 there is something about Milan, the city itself and the country around it, and the appearance of the people, which will leave with us a more agreeable last impression, as to Italian cities or towns, than, I am sure, any other place we have been in would have done. I have seen very few cities any-where having a finer entrance or a finer main street than this. The main street, or Corso as they call it, here, is very much in the English style ; the houses are moderate in height, the street wide and airy, and with flags on both sides of it. It is a pity that the air of such a fine place as Milan should not be perfectly healthy. They say that it is damp and cold during some months of the year, and liable to great heat in the summer. For miles around the land is perfectly flat, and two or three rivers, besides the canals, run close by the city. There is an activity among the trading part of the people here, a business-like stir, which does not appear in other inland Italian cities. In this respect Milan is more like a French city than any one I have seen in Italy.— The population is nearly 130,000. — As to the sights of Milan, they are insignificant, after you have seen those of Naples, Rome, Florence, and Venice. The most interesting of the pictures is the " Last Supper " of Leonardo da Vinci, the copies from which are every- where so much admired. The remains of this painting are to be seen upon the wall at one end of the dining- hall of an old convent. The Cathedral here is one of the most magnificent churches in the world. It is Gothic, and built of white marble. Though begun several cen- turies back, this grand edifice was nothing like nearly finished until the time of Bonaparte, who did a great deal to it. There are no less than four thousand marble statues, all of considerable size, round the exterior of this church ; the roof is covered by a perfect crowd of beau- tiful spires, each of which has a colossal statue on its point. The interior is dirtier than that of any other church we have ever been in out of France, I suppose that this cathedral, in size, is somewhere between our St. Paul's and the next largest of our cathedrals. Its elegant Gothic form is not more striking to us than its colour^ for that is so white as to make one look upon the building, at first, as altogether new ; and the colour is, in my humble opinion, by no means suitable to the style of architecture. It may, perhaps, be mere prejudice ia us to say so : but surely our dark-brown or black, or evea coal- smoked old churches have in their very hue a clainx to reverend regard which the whiteness of this splendid edifice makes it want, 23rG?. — Fine, and warm. — As far as we can judge from experience, the Milanese are the best-looking people of Italy, those of Rome only excepted. The women here are very handsome ; they resemble the Romans a good deal in figure, though they are much less dark in com- plexion. Among the middling classes the women wear a black veil w hen they go out, as a head-dress, the same fashion that we observed at Genoa ; and a very pretty fashion it is. The women too, here, are allowed the liberty ii^ 362 MILAN. MILAN. 363 of walking about out of doors, and alone, more generally than elsewhere in Italy : whether this be bex^ause they are peculiarly worthy to be trusted, or because there are less perils to be encountered by them, who shall say ? It is not customary here (at least so I am told, for I will make such a serious statement on no other than this general authority) for wives to be over rigid in constancy towards their husbands. If it be a fact, as I am assured it is that suitableness of ag;es and mutual inclination in the parties are here only matters of secondary consideration, and that very young and beautiful women are subject to be forced, as it were, to marry old men that they do not like, how discreet must the victims in such matches be in order not to give rise to more or less of scandal ! The excuse of the young men for not being married is, as a lady told me this evening, that they are prevented from so doing by engagements formed with the wiv€S of their elder neighbours; and this, said my informant, is no shame to the married ladies in the opinion of the public, for ihtir fidelity is never brought in question as long as they are true to one lover ! Divorce is never sought, that being permitted under no circumstances by the Catholic church, excepting as a special dispensation from the Pope, which is granted only for the convenience of kings or princes or some very highly-favoured persons.* ♦ Experience should make us tremble at the tliouglit of/acUi- ialmg tbe means of divorce, though it is regarded as a great grievance by some that cue cannot slip hi* head clean out of lb* The consequence has been, that society does not set its face against adultery, but the error is rather admitted as one of the characteristics of genteel life. To talk of the want of education^ the want of book-learning, the neglect of the mind with Italian young women as the source of this evil, as many people do, is to be either foolish or unjust. It would be hard to make us believe matrimonial yoke even in ow free country, excepting at an enor- mous expense. Is not ihe principle of the Catholic church, in this respect, the best, after all the experiments that have been made in deviation from it 1 Divorce is too difficult to be had with us for it to produce much mischievous effect ; but if the spirit of our law be good, how little proof of that goodness is to be inferred from the partial manner in which the law is administered. We have some edifying illustrations in the practice of France and America. The revolutionists of France threw society into utter confusion by tlieir divorce-law. During tlie time of the Jacobins, and in the three Jirst months of the year 1793, the number of divorces iu Paris alone amounted to 562, while the marriages, during the same time, were 1785, the proportion of divorces to marriages being not much less than one to three ! When BoNAPAUTE came to be a law-giver, he admitted the principle of divorce too, but modified the practice of it in his way, and that by one of the most shameful laws that ever were parsed. This law was repealed about five or six years ago, and now the French are left again to the law of the churcli, and no divorce is allowed. An old Scotchman, who lived a few years ago in Philadelphia, and who was notoriously a very hard drinker, married a young wife. She followed his example j and he, having himself taught her to get tipsy, petitioned the patriotic legislature of Pensylvania to be separated from her on the plea of her drunkenness, and obtained the divorce .' r2 364 MILAN. MILAN. 365 that all the mischief is done through pure ignorance, for want of knowing better by the means of any-thing like scholastic aid.* The Italian ladies are pitied on ac count of their alleged intellectual barbarism. The men, however, of this country, must think the force of a board- ♦ What doctrine is there at bottom more irrational and more unbecoming in men to hold, than that for the extension of it-oman- learningy 0°. as cant calls it, " the improvement of the female 7nind"l Frenchmen aflfect to liave been much more gallant than Englishmen in admitting the capabilities of the softer sex; the menial equality of the two sexes is their *' liberal " notion ; and with what sort of disinterestedness have the men inculcated this in France, the society of which country diflfers from that of England in no way so strikingly as in the circumstance of tha French women Laving to attend to such matters of business, per- form such hard work, and undergo such anxieties as, with us, it would be shameful to suffer a woman to be concerned in. There are men who pretend to find something charming in the idea of *' a woman of masculim tnind.'* The phrase must have been invented by some wretchedly hen-pecked fellow, if a man, or by some no very feminine person, if belonging to the sex on which such an idea is a libel. The injunction of the great St. Paul cannot be too much admired for its wisdom. To be sure, Mrs. Hannah MooBE has almost emulated the Apostle himself: but Low often can we expect to see a lady of her description ? But tbere are other literary ladies, besides those who are readers in all manners of literature— there are not only clerks who pen a stanza when they should engross, but ladies who write a novel when they should be mending a stocking, or doing any- thing else but that writing ; nay, there are ladies who can even talk or write pohtics. Ob, what pleasure in prospect, to be buckled on for one's probable whole lifetime to an authoress with a masculine mind, or to a vigorous politician in petticoats ! ing.school education great indeed, if they suppose it can ever ensure the fidelity of wives in a state of society like this, where men, as relates to marriage, are so unprin- cipled and profligate in their conduct. I obser\'ed in the streets this afternoon that horse-sol- diers were stationed to preserve order among the carriages driving backwards and forwards. Here the soldier is, in fact, the peace officer in time of peace. There is a peculiar deference paid to everything in the military shape on the continent which renders the peace-soldier*s situation very different from what it is with us ; for, though we are obliged to support a large standing army in England, it does not obtain that respect from our people TFhich the people here never fail to show towards a soldier. In going from Rome to Naples, I was quite shocked to wit- ness the awe with which my Roman companion seemed to regard every shabby regimentaled police-officer that came near us. These men asked money of us at several places on the road, where they had, as we both well knew, no right to do any such thing. The Roman was for giving th°em something, some trifle at least, as he said, in every case. He appeared to be impressed with a conviction that it was necessary to conciliate and keep friends with the militaire ; and when he found that I made it a point to resist all such imposition to the utmost, he made me an ironical compliment on my " generosity;' to which I replied by referring him to his own pocket if he felt any alarms that money might be wanted to relieve. Even in France, *^ Monsieur le Capitaine" is a high title in >l", 366 MILAN^ A RON A. 367 I society; any-tliing above a lieutenant is there looked up to m much as a lord is in England. 24th. CoMO. — Same weather. — This is about twenty miles to the south-west from Milan, — The country all the w^ay exceedingly rich. The water-meadows are as green and the clover as fresh as possible. 25th. Ml LAX.— The town of Como is a sort of little watering-place, situated at one end of the lake of the same name. The lake is not less than from fifty to sixty miles in length. A steam-boat runs, every day I be- lieve, from here to the other end of the lake, and by this many travellers pursue their way into Switzerland from Italy. Want of time has prevented our seeing much of the lake of Como, which is considered by the Milanese to be the most beautiful in this country. Here the no- blesse and rich of Milan have their country houses, built along on the edges of the water and at the feet of very steep wooded or vine-covered mountains which run up from both sides of the lake. While out upon the lake this morning, I was entertained by a part of the history of our late Queen, as detailed to me by the boatman. "There," said he, pointing to a nice little palace on the border of the lake, "lived your Queen Caroline." Then he went on to describe some of the operations of the memorable Milan Commission. He said that, while the commissioners were at work here, four couriers were constantly employed in going backwards and forwards between this place and Milan ; and what told most for the purity of the proceeding, that great numbers oiNapo* lioni (20-franc pieces) were brought to Como by different expresses. He spoke of an English Colonel and of un certo SignorAvvocato Leesii, as he called him (Leech), as discovering fenet-Uke activity and aptness at rum- maging. This boatman told me that he had happened to be a witness of some disturbance among the people of the Queen's kitchen, and that the commissioners, who wanted hitn to go to England to glve.evidence, oftered him eight francs per day for the maintenance ot his fa- mily during the time he should be away, and ten francs per day for himself (all his expenses being to be detrayed by his employers). <' But I did not like it," said the boatman, - and I am now glad that I did not go. Those « who went were ^houtf fty in number : one got tiveniy -francs a day, and another as much as thirty francs, " while they were away; and now they are all as poor « as rats:' I asked him how they came now to be so badly off. " Hanno detto troppor (They said too much) was his answer, accompanied by a significant look. That is, said I, you mean they told lies. " Gia ' (Just so), replied the boatman, who really did not tell his story as if it were a lie.-It is an important tact that Majocchi is now a master- coachmaker in M^an, where he lives in the street called Conirada Larga As to whence he derived the capital to set up shop with, I do not think it necessary to make any inquiry. 26fh. ARONA.-Here we are in a little town on the border of the lake called Maggiore, We crossed the river Ticino at Lesto Calende, another small town, near 1/^ 368 DOMO-D OSSOLA. BRYG. 369 where the river leaves the lake aud runs on dividing, by its course^ the territories ot Lombardy and Piedmont. — Coun- try much the same as that about Milan. If any difference, the land is richer, and with still more verdure upon it. 27th, DoMo-D*OssoLA. — This place, a very small hourg, is situated amongst mountains, just where the rise of the Simplon begins. — We coasted the Lago Maggiore this morning for the first seven or eight miles, stopping at Grave llona, a village close on the lake, to take a trip in a boat to see the islands of Borromeo, of which there are three. At a short distance from the road- side, between Arona and Gravellona, is the bronze statue raised to Borromeo : it is said to be upwards of fieventy-five feet high. The island called Isola Bella, on which is the palace now possessed by the family of this saint, is the most fanciful thing that ever was. The greater part of the ground, now growling orange-trees, flowering shrubs, &c., has been carried from the main land and supported upon piles. From Gravellona we ascended all the way between mountains, through a green valley watered by the river Tosa, which pours down from the Alps. Fine meadows, good Indian corn still, and plenty of lucerne and hemp. The people here are now making meadow hay. The women, many of whom have swelled necks, are very hard worked : we see them carrying immense loads of hay upon their backs from the field to the stack or barn. Countenances and dress of the population cease to have any-thing of the Italian about them. 28M. Bryg.— The change in both climate and sce- nery that we have experienced between setting out for the last morning in Italy, and arriving the first night in Switzerland, is as great as the difference in sound be- tween the names of Domo d'Ossola and Bryg. A very tedious day of it : sixteen hours and a half just coming over the Simplon, a distance of about thirty- seven miles. This passage, however, is frequently made in from ten to twelve hours. The highest point of the Simplon is calculated to be 11,000 feet above the level of the sea. Less than thirty years ago there was no road over this immense mountain, or rather, this heap of immense mountains one piled upon another. The little villacre called Simplon is at something less than midway, and°there are, besides this, several miserable-looking houses, at a distance from each other by the road, places of refuge for travellers in distress. We cannot describe this as any-thing less than a sublime day's journey : we have been high enough, at all events, to speak of it in such high-flown terms. Our road was generally very good; quite wide enough, and in good repair. The torrent of the river Tosa kept a continual racket in our ears, falling down into caverns and running between rug»» 1 ,„ „„r»iip his intent ons unmolested the wis1.es of his parents, and, to pursue ini b. their interference, he retired to Aoste. and t^"; »»f "jf „der. Being nominated archdeacon in the church at that pbce ;f :; .bout'conver,in. the inhabitants of ">-;•;« and preserved monuments of paganism, which Bebsabd a Il 372 MOUNT ST. BERNARD. |l 8074 feet above the level of the sea. The monks, as they are called, are some of the regular canons of the order of St. Aurelius Augustin, whose life was remarkable for both sinful and saintly conduct. From Martigny we have come about twenty-two miles, and we were nine hours travelling. We came the first twelve miles in a little carriage drawn by a pair of mules, on one of which our guide rode as postilion. When we stopped to bait, at a poor little village called Liddes, our mules were saddled, as it is impracticable to come any further this way on wheels. There are about seventy mules, and thirty guides, constantly in readiness at this time of the year, to take travellers up and down the mountain. The road was, to be sure, much more diffi- cult than any we have ever experienced ; an English horse would be sprawling ten times on one mile of it; in abolishing. He took compassion on the German and French pilgrims who had to encounter great hardships and perils in their journejs to Rome, whither they went to pay homage at the tombs of the Apostles ; and it was for these people that he founded two hospitals, or houses of entertainment, both on the Alps, the one on Mount JoVcn (or Mons Jovis), so called because there was at that time a temple on it dedicated by the Pagans to Jupiter ; and the other on the Joien Column (or Columna Jovis), bo called from a column of Jupiter. Those two spots were what are now called, the first. Great Mount St. Bernard, and the second, Little Mount St. Bernard. The canons of St. Augustin became the ministers of charity in these two establishments; and St. Ber- NARr himself was their first superior, under the title of prev6t a title instituted by him. martigny. 373 yet it is hardly so bad as we had apprehended. We were surprised to find such very comfortable quarters here. The bed-rooms are all neatly wainscotted ; great attention is paid to all travellers who come here. '' A)i out-of-the-way place'' is a common country phrase in England : this is the place, of all that I have ever seen, to be called so. We are here in a hole, as it were, high as we have ascended ; the convent does not stand on the highest point of this part of the Alps ; the mountains rise still much above it on either side, the highest of their points being about 3000 feet higher than where we now are ; and the tracks leading down to Martigny the one way and to the Vale of Aoste on the other, are two outlets, winding off in such a way as to offer no view for any dis- tancefrom this spot. The convent is a pretty large house, but plain in appearance even for a dwelling of its kind. There is a large pond at the back of it, formed by the occasional melting of the snow. Snow covers the ground in all directions at this time, a season when there is as little of it as ever. For miles on this side of Liddes there is no cultivation of the land : yet there is grass, and horned cattle are grazed at not more than three miles beneath the convent. The campanula, the dan- delion, and the daisy, assert their hardiness even here, for here these little flowers grow upon the almost bare rocks and blossom amongst the snow. ^nd. Martigny.— There was a hardish frost last night at St, Bernard. It was only the other day at Milan that a single blanket was too much to sleep under, 374 MARTIGNY. MARTIGNY. 375 I |:' ft and last night we were glad to have two, besides a dojon quill upon top of them. — Our worthy hosts were heard soon after day-light this morning chanting in the little chapel attached to their dwelling. In this chapel is the tomb of General Desaix, whose body was brought here from the field of Maringo. Bonaparte had a marble monument to his memory erected in the chapel, which bears the inscription, " A Desaix, mort d, Ma- ringoy Bonaparte's feat in leading an army across St. Bernard is looked upon as a wonderful thing: surely it was so ; but after seeing the ground here to be passed over, one must suppose that the snow cannot but have done a monstrous deal towards his success.* The monks of St. Bernard are generally from eight to twelve in number. The air of the situation is so keen. ifil it tt <( <( <( << (I H (( ii €t I* II * " You will Lave seen accounts in the papers of ibe mode of dragging: their artillery up the snows in the excavated trui)ks of trees; of the table spread with provisions for the exhausted soldiers on the summit, at the distribution of which the piotrt Cenobites presided, who inhabit these eternal regions of winter, and whose lives are spent in the severest acts of beneficence and usefulness. In a letter written by a field officer, this last circumstance is particularly mentioned. The impression made on the mind of this officer by the meekness and Bdmirable patience of those meri^oiioas faihers, leads him to the follow- ing apostrophe :— ♦ Sublime religion ! the practice of which * forms litroes, as its abuse creates monsters : of what a weight ' of crime are those guilty who pervert thy essence ! ' A sin- gularly pious conclusion for the Etat-major of a Prench alheis: tical army."— Helen Maria Williamb. that it requires strong lungs to breathe it for years toge- ther; so that the same persons rarely remain there long without coming away for a change. Their dress is a black gown, with a white band over the shoulder; and they wear a high cap, which, though black in colour, has more of the military undress in it than the regular costume of a religious order. There were eight or nine English people, besides ourselves, as temporary inmates of the convent last night. At this season of the year there have, of late, been great numbers of English visitors to this ancient and justly-famed institution.— The dogs 80 much spoken of are originally either of Spanish or Hungarian breed. The anecdotes of their sagacity are almost incredible. They are sometimes dispatched as guides to lead strangers up or down the moun- tain. During the season of snow they are sent out to search for persons that may have chanced to lose their way, or to find those who may be buried in the snow- drifts. People are fed and lodged for the night at the convent without being required to pay any-thing for the accom- modation. We were startled last evening on going into the dining-room of the monks : any-thing so much like the neat parlour of a rich old-fashioned English farmer, 1 have never seen out of England. The cloth was laid for dinner on a long table ; all was set out in a style that might almost be called elegant ; there was a fine fire to warm ue ; and really it seemed, on looking around, as if the fjentility had been studied as much as the comfort if 376 MARTIGNY. MARTIGNY. 377 f i I f'tH I of the place. We had a nice dinner, and several kinds of excellent wine. Those of the monks who dined with us were very gentlemanly men, and entertained us, who came to see them out of mere curiosity and without giving any notice of the visit, as if we had been invited and had done them an honour in accepting the invitation. In a little parlour, next to the dining-room, they have a collection of pictures and other things, which have been sent to them as presents from the English nobility and gentry who have visited the spot. One of these is a piano-forte, presented by some English ladies. AVe were the more likely to be astonished at seeing this convent from the description given of it by a traveller who has recently been here. In the book of — Hogg, ^* Esquire, Barrister at Laiv '* as he styles himself, there is language used in speaking of St. Bernard and the monl-s, which is so gross that I can hardly credit my memory, after having, by experience, known how com- pletely unjust every word of it is. Mr. Hogg calls the monks " greasT/" if I recollect rightly. I remember, in particular, that he finds fault with the food that they set before him. Mr. Hogg's title of ** Esquire'' is no jus- tification of his abuse on the monks of St. Bernard ; but as we are told that he is a laivyer, he may find some apology on that score. Lawyers are notoriously the most bilious of men ; and I dare say that all this gentleman's angry expressions towards the monks are to be attributed, not, as is the common excuse for weak good people, more to ihejiead than to the heart, but more to the belly than to the brains. If, however, the good jolting that Mr. Hogg must have had, and the many puffs of bracing Alpine air that he must have inhaled before he reached St. Bernard, were not enough to drive all thoughts of " the barrister's table " out of his head, and to fortify his stomach for monkish fare; if, having Burgundy and Hock before him, he could long for something more sti- mulating, and be disappointed in not finding black-strap (as we call Port-wine at Lincoln's Inn) on the table of monkish charity ; still Mr. Hogg has done one thing which,asamemberof a '' liberal profession," was exceed- ingly unbecoming in him : his mere abuse of the Catholic religion and of all belonging to it that came in his way is nothing compared with one fact which he gives us to understand: he does not assert the fact ^ no; but he distinctly insinuates, which makes the attempt to make believe still less honourable than would have been the simple assertion ; he distinctly insinuates and leaves it to be understood, that, while the food he ate was fit only for a dog, he had to pay dearly for it. Now, Mr. Hogg had to pay for nothing at St. Bernard ; not only was nothing demanded of him, but, if he chose to put his hand in his pocket, he could have found no other hand to receive what he gave, and his free offering (for such alone is made at the convent) must have been dropped through the chink of a charity-box in the chapel ; a box, too, by-the-by, as to their application of the contents of which for the relief of meritorious objects Mr. Hogg could not find any fault with the monks, since, much as I i lil 378 BlARTlGJTt** MARTIGNY. 379 it may have gone against his stomach, he has confessed himself to have been a partaker of the bounty. The game of this country consists of the j) tar mag an ^ the chamoix //oaf, and the marmotte {mus Alpinus or rat of the Alps). Notwithstanding the relationship in- dicated in the proj>er name of the latter, the people here eat it.; the monks had some of it at dinner last evening, so that I conclude (in spite of what Mr. Hogg might say) that it is looked upon as a delicacy. Nothing can be more miserable than the asriculture of this country, as far as I have seen it. They are now cutting and carrying barley, and much of their wheat, which is very coarse in quality, is yet in the field. Grass and lucerne seem to be their best fodder. The climate is so damp, that the beans have to be hung up for some time to dry, after being carted, round the eaves of the build- ings, strung upon poles. The tillable sides of the moun- tains are ploughed with a shallow plough drawn by a single mule or ass. This part of Switzerland, Valais, is a valley of about ninety miles in length, and about twenty in breadth, between immensely high mountains. The Rhone, which rises still many miles beyond the upper end of the val- ley, flows all the way through this canton, and enters the lake of Geneva. The inhabitants of Valais are said to be 63,000 in number. They are, I believe, all Ca- tholics. Their language is a patois of the German ; though French is nmch spoken here. It is impossible to imagine any-thing more wretched than the state of the labouring people here. A vast proportion of them are afflicted with the disease called goiters, a swelling of the glands of the throat to a monstrous size ; while, at the same time, there appears to be hardly a family among the poor in which some of the children are not born idiots. These poor creatures (who are called cretins) are objects, however, of a sort of superstitious reverence among the people; for their menial vacancy is regarded as being intended by Providence to be a blessing to them. Most of them are dwarfs, or distorted in some way, short in stature and out of proportion ; and their flat, big- featured, squalid countenances are really quite horrible to look at. In some of the houses you may see a whole family of idiots together, and one little brother or sister idiot nursing another, while their mother's looks are ex- pressive of the same malady in herself. The goiters and the idiotcy are companions ; they have each been attri- buted to different causes ; some suppose that they must arise from the poor food of the people. That scenery which is peculiarly Swiss, the high- mountains, pointed rocks, wild hanging woods, deep narrow valleys, rapid bouncing torrents, &c. ; this has, perhaps, been more correctly described in drawings than any other scenery in the world. There can be no scenery so easy for the artist to bring before us as this. The manners of the people here are just what I should expect from all 1 have heard of them. Gentleness and simplicity have been remarkable in the manner and tone of every person that we have yet spoken to in this country. '■' |: \t r 380 LAUSANNE. GENEVA. 381 I I ' l> Goldsmith's poetic picture of Swiss rustic life recon- ciles happiness with poverty to a degree far beyond what is probable. However, he was not describing the appear- ances of Valais in particular, or the picture must have been highly over-wrought. 3rc?. Lausanne.— Rainy cold day.— An industrious town of considerable size, situated on the edge of the Lake of Geneva, in the Canton of Vaud. This country may, literally speaking, be called one of milk and honey, which Italy, more beautiful as it is than Switzerland, cannot. We came through Ve v a y, a place also prettily situated near the lake. At our dinner 'there, we had occasion to remark the superiority of the meat over any-thing to be had in the warmer parts of Italy. They gave us some mutton, which was as fat as any I have seen from our richest grass-lands ; a thing that, 1 dare say, was never yet had in Naples or Rome, shining as those cities have been in luxury. The sort of fare here met with is infinitely more suitable with English notions than that of Italy. The inns, too, are altogether more comfortable to us than the Italian. The smallest inn that we have entered in this country has been clean, with an arrange- ment and a neatness about it that we have had to miss in many large hotels on the other side of the Alps ; and while indolence, and more or less of neglect of their cus- tomers, may be said to characterize all the people about Italian houses of entertainment, those people here are full of activity and attention. The Swiss are praised by many for their fidelity in situations of trust, and re- proached, at the same time, by others, with being mer^ cenary in their motives for attachment. It is certain that there is something to be said against either the country or its people ; or why should the people be so content as they are in finding employment out of their own country ? — To climb over the mountains of Switzer- land, and all on foot too, is quite the rage with our coun- trymen, great numbers of whom we have seen plodding along with iheir knapsacks at their backs. They are much favoured by the coolness of the climate and the English like comfort of every little inn or hovel that receives them. Aih. Geneva.— -Clear day, but not warm. — The Lake of Geneva is about fifty miles in length, and from seven to eight in width. We have come, from tha vale of Valais^ all the way along near to one side of it. — The land is by no means all good ; but the grass-fields are of the greenest that can be, with beautiful walnut-trees growing in them. The farm-houses are very much after the English style, large, well-built, exceedingly neat, and not stuck together in small dirty villages, but scat- tered about over the country. The country houses inha- bited by genteel people are numerous towards Geneva, They are precisely similar to country gentlemen's houses in England. There are vineyards in some places : we saw plenty yesterday, and looking to great advantage on land sloping down to the lake. The vines are grown close to the ground, as in France. There is a white wine grown here, called de la, C6te, which is good (when not 11 382 MOREY. JOIGNY. 383 . I sour, as it is too apt to be in tliis climate). — A second hay-making is now going on. Potatoes are abundant every-where in this country; the poor people depend .greatly on these for their sustenance. 5th, — Warmer, with rain. — Geneva, with all its traffic, and although such a thoroughfare, is but a dull place to be in. There are upwards of 20,000 inhabit- ants, almost the whole of whom are Calvinists. Much of the town stands high, and is very picturesque, seen from the lake. The fine expanse of water, the modera- tion of the climate as to heat, and the eternal verdure about the neighbourhood, render this spot agreeable to English people during the height of summer. But all this is too much like England to make it worth while to come here for noveltifs sake ; and there is a chilliness withal, about here, which makes us exclaim, ** Let me .♦* be half broiled, if I must, under the sun of Flo a en ce "or Naples, but give me something more rich and *« ghtving than all that Geneva anct its lake afford." 6th. — Rain and chill. 7/A. — Miserable wet cold weather. — At Geneva the Mhone divides the town, rushing out at this end of the lake again in two separate streams, and flowing off with renewed vigour. Sth. MoREv (a small place in France). — To-day we have come over the mountain called /?t>y Buffalo, tlie Italian *iOO Bull-baiting, at Kome.... 312 Buonconveiito 1^-1 Burke '^66 Burnet, Bishop 5i99 Byron, Lord 85, 255 C. Campagna of Rome, the . . 171 Canipi 1<>i> Cainpi-Bassi 315 " Camp - meetings f*' in America 288 Campo Santo, the, at Pisa 56 i.'annay the plant called . . 134 Cannes ••••■••••• 19 Cappella de' Medici, the. . 132 Oapua • "00 Capuchins, the, at Rome . - 193 Carhonari, the 210 Carnival, the, ut Pisa .... 85 » at Florence .... Ill Cashman S'26 Castel-Gandclto 292 Castiglioncello ...«««•#»* 151 Castle reas^h 2(>6. 3(V> Castles, the spy 270, 344 Caro 241 Carob, the tree called 208 Caroline, Queen of England, 24, 271, :^66 Catholics, the English 287 Catholic religion, mode of worship in the 28(i Cattle, in Tuscany 60 Cicacitt, or locust, the .... 307 Cicero 204 Ciflcitf, sandal called .... 199 Circa?U8, the mountain ... 198 Civiia-Castellana .,, 314 Cliniate, signs of tlie .*•. 308 of Italy 212 Oi X 18a •• * • ■ « » .«,« f 1 Cuaiily ......... ••••••■• 1 Chalons-sur-Saone ...... 3 Paire. Chambermaids,noneinltaly 264 Cliamon 6 Cliarity 151 Chateaubriand, M, de. . . . 96 Chesnuts 101, 166 Chiaja, the street called . . 216 Children, swaddled 263 Chissy 3 Churches, in Rome 278 Code Napoleon^ the 66 Colosseum, the 173, 192 Columbus 337 Compliments of the Italians 280 Comfort, the absence of . . 167 Como ^6 Convents, description of the 152 Coiinne, Madame deStael'a 276 Cortona 316 Corpus Domini, procession of 273 Costumes of R(jme 182 Coita„'e8 in Italy 89 Cottage, the, in England . . 304 Courts «)f justice, at Rome 191 Crusca, the academy delta 135 Ciijes 13 Vallon de 15 Custom-houses 113 Custom-house, ut Rome . . 172 Cypress-tree, the 152 D. Dancing 95 Desaix, General 374 Desenzano 353 Dialects of Italy 241 Dissenting persons 289 Divorce, law of S62^ Donio-d'Ossola 36& Durbec, Madame 17 E. Earthquake near Romp, 251, 260 Easter Sunday in St. Peter's 177 Edict of the Holy office .. 267 Edwards, the spy. .. .270, 344 E17 Fiith of the Italians 187 Finale "^ Fine arts, the 277 Flaminius 315 Fleas, at Rome 108, .'506 Florence 317 origi-n of the name 123 Flowers 123, 311 Foligno 314 Fondi 202 Forum- Appi 200 Fontainbltmu 1 Forsyth, Mr 43 Fossard 2 Fotni tains, at Rome 275 Fraii della Miseiicordia .. l39 13 Pa?e- Gazzelle, the antelope. . .. 103 Genzano 19.> festival at 282 Geneva 381 Genoa 31, .37 German soldiers 248 fiondofn, description of a . . 3-18 Grand Duke, the, of Tus- cany 150 Giostra, the 312 Giovanni di }'»o!ogna .... 115 Goitera, the dise.ise called 379 Grotta del Cane, the .... 237 n. Hannibal 31. > Harvest, the, at Rome ... .308 Hay-cart, way of going to 309 HenryVlII Vi\9 Herculaneum 217 Holidava, at Rome 271 Hogg, Mr 278, .376 Hombert, Madame 321 Homes of the Italiius .... 280 Honesty of the Italians ^^y>y Horace 200, 206, 238 Horses, in Tuscany 144 Horticulture 311 .. 321 .. 83 ,.. 17 Fr. ejus French fleet, the 17 Fromenteau 1 G. Gaeta 204 Galileo, the persecution of 132 Gambling 281 Game rn Tuscany 70 Gardening 311 Gardens, at Genoa 44 Garda, lake of ob^ Hotels, prices at . . . Hulme, INIr. Thomas Hyeres I. & J. Incisa j 17 Indian corn^in Eomhardy 359 Inns, at Tenatioa 201 at &ant' Agata 205 at Ac7 fnfiorata, the 282 Irish, the, their treatment of the (^leen ; their flat- tery oi" the King ; their • ' generosity " and ' ' hos- pitality" • • Italians, me-.aiuess of in money affiiirs a temperate and orderly peo}'le 118 characUT of the . . 298 306 305 / ,t 'ipl 1^ m r I hi 386 INDEX. Pace. Brescia ^^y'^ Brutus i^y9 Bryg ''^'-> Buftalo, the Italian ^00 Bull-baiting, at Kome.... 312 Buonconveiito 1^-1 Burke '^^6 Burnet, Bishop 299 Byron, Lord 85, 255 c. Campagna of Rome, the . . 171 109 315 in 288 56 134 19 132 206 Cam pi Cainpi-Bassi •* Camp - meetings^ America Cawpo Santo, the, at Pisa ( annay the plant called . . Cannes • • • • . Cappella de' Medici, the. . V'StpilQ •••••••••••••••• Capuchins, the, at Home . . 193 Carhoiiari, the ..«•«• ••♦ • 210 Carnival, the, ut Pisa .... 85 » at Florence 111 ('ashman S26 Castel-Gand.Uo 292 Castiglioncello . . . , 151 Castlereasih 2()6. 3ll;3 Castles, the spy . . • . • .270, M4i Caro 241 Caroh, the tree called .... 208 Caroline, Queen of England, 24, 271, :^66 Catholics, the English 2a7 Catholic religion, mode of worship in the 286 Cattle, in Tuscany 60 Cicatia, or locust, the .... 307 Cicero 204 Ciocia, sandal called .... 1 99 Circseus, the mountain ... 198 Civiia-Castellana 314 Cliniate, signs of the .... 308 -. of Italy 212 ofPisa 71 Chaiily ••••••• 1 Chalons-sur-Saone S Paee. Chamhermaids,noneinltaly 264 Cliamon 6 Charity 151 Chateaubriand, M. de . . . . 96 Chesnuts lOl, 166 Chiaja, the street called . . 216 Children, swaddled 263 Chissy 3 Churclies, in Rome 278 Code Napoleon J the 66 Colosseum, the 173, 192 Columbus 337 Compliments of the Italians 280 Comfort, the absence of . . 167 Como ^^ Convents, description of the 152 Coiinne, Madame de Stael's 276 Cortona 316 Corpus Domini, procession of 273 Costumes of Rome 182 Colta'^es in Italy 89 Cottage, the, in England . . 304 Couris of justice, at Rome 191 Ctusca, the academy delta 135 Ctijes 13 \'allon de 15 Custom-houses IIS Custom-house, ut Rome . . 172 Cypress-tree, the 15t2 D. Dancing 95 Desaix, General ST^i IJesenzano 35^> Dialects of Italy 241 Dissenting persons 289 Divorce, law of S6^ Domo-d'Ossola 36& Durhec, Madame 17 E. Earthquakeneor Rome, 25 1,260 Esuiter Sunday in St. Peter's 177 Edict of the Holy office . . 267 Edwards, the spy... .270, 344 E^eria, the nymph 29:2 Ely siun fields, the ^i35 INDEX. 387 Page. English, conduct of the, at Rome 28:1 Essonne 1 F. Fri echini, the, of Genoa.. 4.> Fair at Florence 134 yngiuolo, the hean 107 Falernian wine 205 89 ;]09 301 23 282 281 Farm-houses in Italy .... Farin**rs, the Pa^an Feet of the Romans, the.. Feluca, the vessel called . . Festn di Flora, the, at Gensano Fever, the, at Rome .... Ferrara 3;U Fesche, Cardinal 307 Fiesole 119 Figline 317 Filth of the Italians 187 Finale 30 Fine arts, the 277 Flaminius 315 Fleas, at Rome 108, .'506 Florence 317 - origin of the name 123 Flowers 123, 31 1 Foligno 314 Fondi 202 Forum- Appl 200 Fontainblt-au 1 Forsyth, Mr 43 Fossard 2 Fwmtains, at Rome 275 Frati della Misexicordia .. 139 Frej us 18 French fleet, the 17 Fromenteau 1 G. Gaeta 204 Galileo, the persecution of 13!^ Gambling 281 Game in Tuscany 70 Gardening 311 Gardens, at Genoa 44 Garda, lake of obS Pa-?e- Gazzelle, the anti^lope. . .. 10 > Genzano 19.» festival at 282 Geneta 381 Genoa 31, 37" Germai soldiers 24H Gondola, description of a . . 348 Giand Duke, the, of Tus- cany ...•• Giostra, the Giovanni di I'^ologna .... Goiters, the dise.ise called Grotta del Caue, the .... / ' 150 312 115 379 237 H. Hannibal Harvest, the, at Rome . 315 . .308 Hay-cart, way of going to 309 Henry VIII 189 Herculaneum 217 Holidavs, at Rome 271 Hogg. Mr 278, 376 Hombert, Madame 321 Homes of the Italiius 280 Honesty of the Italians 3.)5 Horace 200, 206, 23« Horses, in Tuscany 144 Horticulture 311 .. 321 . . 83 .. 17 Hotels, prices at . . . Hulme, ^Ir. Thomas Hyeres 317 359 I. & J. Incisa • ••' Indian cnrHj^^in Lombardy Inns, at Tenatioa 201 at Sant' Agata 20.5 • at Ac<]ua-Pendente. . 157 Jnfim-ata, the 282 Irish, the, their treatment of the (^leen ; their flat- tery oi' the King ; their "generosity" and "hos- pitality" I • 306 Italians, me-anness of in money affiiirs a lenijienate and 305 orderly peo;>le — ' character of the 11« 298 y. 388 INDEX. INDEX. 389 f I |l Pape. Itri 202, 203 Jerome, St 84 Jesuits, at Rome 311 driven from Aix . . 12 Jews, the 55 • at Leghorn .... 65 Johnson, Dr 166 Joignj 2 Juvenal 167 L. wages of. in Labourers, Tuscany jMcrymcE Chri&ti, the wine called Lago-Castello Ladies, the Italian Land, produce of the, in Tuscany ,. , , Landscapes, in Italy Lanfranchi, Archbishop . . Language ai Nice ■ at Genoa ■ in Tuscany .... ' ■ ■ at Siena in perfection at Home ■ of the French .. Languages of ditierent parts of Italy 241, J-jastri, Signor , Law oflibd, the English . . Lawrence, Sir Thomas. . . . Lausanne Lava Lavenza Lazzaroniy the ** Liberals,'' the Libraries at Florence .... Liddes Lima, the river Limonest Liris, the river Lizards Xieecn, lur. ..•»«««,,,,, Leghorn , , ,,,.,,. " Leghcn-n" the hats called Leo XII.. Pope Xeopold I., of Tuscany . . 76 228 292 278 80 128 58 26 45 135 153 252 136 245 110 249 310 :J80 233 51 211 286 135 372 101 3 20 1 307 S67 55 109 272 140 Page. Leopold I., the co de of . . 66 Leopold II., characttr of. . 69 Levane 316 Lyons 3 Lucrimo, lake of 234 Luc 18 Lucca 98 Lucchesi, agriculture of the 108 M. Macaroni, method of mak- ing 216 Macchiavelli 131 Macon 3 Madonna degli Angelii fes- tival of the 315 Madonna del Tufoy the . . 293 7J/«f/o««a, paintings of the 131 Maggiore, the lake 368 Magra, the river 51 Maison Blanche 3 Majocchi S67 IVIansfield, Earl of 303 ^lanufactures, state of, iu Tuscany 93 Marino Faliero 34-i Marlia, the palace of .... 102 Marriage 280 Marseilles 12 Martorelli, Signor . . 262, 291 7J/a>-zMo/o, the wheat called 110 Massa 51 Mass, the military 133 Masters, the treatment of servants by 265 Martigny 371 Matri:oony, the state of, in Italy 190 Measures, in Tuscany. . . . 75 Mecainas, villa of 258 IMechitar, Dr 348 Mentone 27 Methodist - Meetings, in America 288 Michel Angelo, 40, 115, 131, 133, 175 Milan 359 cathedral at 360 Milan commission, the ... . 366 Page. Milanese, the 361 Military despotism 249 Mditia-raen of England flogged at Ely 249 Milton 156 Misenus, the Cape of .... 236 Miserere, the, as sung at St. Peter's 176 Misericordic, the brother- hood delta 139 Mola-di-Gaeta 203 Monaco 29 Monks, in Tuscany 327 INIoney, the, of Tuscany . . 74 Montepulciano, the wiue called 137 Monte-Soracte 170 Monte-Fiascone 1 60 Monte-Cavo 292 Monselice 33^^ Mont' Oliveto 139 Monterosi 169 Montanori 1 54 Moore, Mrs. Hannah .... 364 Mora, the game of 281 Morsa, the bridle called . . 61 Mosaic, description of . . . . 343 Moschitos, at Nice 25 INiothers, iu Italy 125 Murat 222 Music, in Catholic churches 54, 134 in St. Peter's 176 N. Naples 206 ■ the King of 209 the Museum of. . . . 231 Neapolitans, character of the 240 indolence of the 213 Neapolitan dialect, the ... . 241 Neceia, the food called . . 101 Nemi, lake and town of . . 292 Newgate, not forgotten by the author 248 New England, the Presby- terians of 288 Newspapers iu Italy 322 Nightingale, the i:/4 Ni^ardy the language called 26 Non-resident clergy 289 Nott, llevd. Dr 289 Nuns in Tuscany 327 Nurse, the poem called The 126 Nursing children 125 O. Ogden, Mr Oro-on Oleander, the, at Rome . . Olive-tree, description of the Oliver, the spy i^70, Ollioules Vallon de i Ombrone, the river v/negiia ................ Orange-trees, in Provence Ovid Oxen, at Rome P. Padua Painters and sculptors have assisted religion »Palli;dius PuUone, the game of .... Palazzo Pitti, the Pantheon, the Pa- 348 10 264 257 344 16 16 105 30 16 29 Z 309 ssignano Passports Patience, necessary to tra- vcHfris •••••••••••••• Patriarch! and Vanniui, Messrs Pauperism in Italy Paupers, at Rome Pausilippo, grotto of .... .^ , hill of Peaches Peasantry at Rome Perjury at Rome Pensylvania, legislature of Pescia Petrarch " PIdlosopheSy* the, of France 148 81 31 sj IbO 274 315 169 264 97 212 303 216 217 311 181 271 105 251 286 ; ».: it ''Hi f li 390 Piedmontese, their filth .. Pictures, at Kome ••,••». xi'Btra-ortnta »• • • •• • ♦ •• • • Pietra Main Pilgrims, going to Rome . . Pilgrims INDEX. INDEX. 391 .54 277 51 331 ir>4 315 Pimiar, Peter 166 Pisa 52 Pistoja 104 Piu» ViL. Pope 'il>8 J liny ., «,..^ »?.» •■(•«'.•• . o-w, i^i Plo'igh, the, a sign of cli- mate 4 . . .. IB Ploughs, at llome .•••»•.■ 309 Po, ihe river ••••••••••••• ^o>i Poetry, the Italians prone to 251 Poggibonzi 151 Polleata 101 Police, in Tuscany 124 Pomegranate, tlie 204 Pompeii 217 Pontine Marshes, the .... 197 Pontccentino 155 Poor, the provision for, in 1 uscany. ••.... • « « •*•••> X ortici •••• .,••.•••••• Porto Maurizio Potatoes, much eaten by the x renclv » *« • * •..«,• • • • Pope, tJie, his treatment of t)ie Protestants 284 Pope, visit to the 297 PozzuoU 2:54 Pozzo deg' Liquistftri, at \'enice ., 345 x^ruto •«•»«•■•«■••«•••■• M\}mf Preaching in Italy 129. 1«>2. 312 Press, stsUeof the, in Italy 324 Prices of laud 79 ■ of grain . . , , 80 m of cattle ........ 82 ■ ■ ■ of provisions at Pisa 86 ■ — of house-rent at Pisa 96 at Florence, of pro- Tisions 144 ' ■ ■ of servants' wagea 147 ^— — of house-rent .... 147 Priests, at Rome 288 121 217 30 3 Page. Procrastination of tlie Ita- lians 265 Provence, a deliglitfulcoMU- try ". 22 Punch, at Naples 246 Punishments for crimes . . 67 Q. Queen of England, the 24, 30(', 366 R. Radicofani 155 Raphael 131, 189 ivecii ••••••••.....••• .• u* Resina • 222 Rialto, the -^'^^ Richmond, Duke of 303 Ricorsi • «••• ..... 1*>4 Riviera^ the road and coun- try along tlie 31 Rhone, the river. . . . 5, 7, .378 Roba, the Italian word . . ^"^ Rocca-del-Papa 293 Romans, the 1B4 character of the 300 Romulus 192 Roscoe, Mr 126 Rousseau 126 Rouvray 3 Rua 45 S, San Casciano 151 San Marco, piezza and church of 341 San Lazaro, island of .... 348 Suone, the river 6 Sun-Lorenzo 160 Sent' P2rmo, the castle of. . 247 San-Quirico 154 Sant' Agata 202 San Remo S9 Scaldino, the vessel called 68 •* Scandal," application of the term 270 Scirocco, ihe wind called . . 172 Scor^nous 307 Paee. Serehio, the river 99 Servants, treatment of, by musters ^^"^ paid by visitors 295 Sestri-di-Levante 46 Shaking Quakers 288 Sheep Shepherds Siena Sij^na. .......•«.•••••• Silk, in Piedmont Simplon, the Sion • • Sky, the Italian Sleeping, in the day-time Soldiers, at Milan 365 at Naples 209 166 1^5 151 110 46 368 370 122 9J6 124 211 372 371 Solfatara, the ^37 Sonnets, insipid 251 Spezia ^^ Gulfof 51 Spies, in Tuscany Spy-system, at Naples. . . . St. Aurelius Augustin .... St. Bernard de Menton St. Bernard, Mountain and convent of 371, 373 St. Francis ^J^ St.Peter's.the church of 173, 177 illumination of. . 186 St. Peter's day, at Rome . . 294 St. Paul 364 Stael, Madame de 276 Steam-boat, at llome .... 311 Stygian Marsh, the 236 Sun, the Italian 129 Swift 1' 6 Swiss, manners ot the .... 379 soldiers at Rome . . 185 T. Tain ^ Tansillo ' "" 'Jaraniula, the 307 Tbsso, the cell of 335 Tavernelle 1^^ Taxes in Tuscany 76 Teatrodel Gionio, at Bo- logna • • • 3o4 Pas»e. Ten»i 314 Terracii.a 197, 249 Teverone, the rirer 256 Theatres, at Lyons 4 — _ at Naples 246 Tbistlewood 299 Tiber, the river 275 Tivoli 253 the water-falls of . . 254 Toledo, the street, in Na- ples. ............ .209, 244 Torrenieri 1^4 Towns and villages 196 Toulon ^" Trajan's column 274 Transtevere, tlte people called 302 Trieste 341 Triumphal arches at Rome 275 Triviglio 356 Troubadours, the language of Ihe 27 Turin ^^"^^ Turnpike-gates 356 Tuscans, an amiable people 124 J their present state 149 Tuscany, the government of 66 U. & Y. University of Pisa, the lec- turing in the 64 Valwis, the canton of .... 378 Val di Chiana 317 Var, the river 22 Vorro 62 Vatican, the 188 Val d' A mo, the 127 Velletri ^95 \'enice -^^^^ Verona 351 Vevay 380 Ventiraiglia 29 l>'enus de' Medici, the .... 115 Vesuvius, excut si n to.. . . 222 /^tf/^Mrino, travelling by .. 318 Vicenza 351 Vico, lake of. 170 Vidauban 18 ^ 392 INDEX. Page. Villa (I'Este, the 259 Villa lleale, the garden of 216 Vines, the Italian mode of training 62 - ■ about Naples .... 206 — — ^ near Home 196 Virgil 204, 206 , the tomb of 215 ■^'irgil's plough 309 Villa Franca 29 Viterbo 160 ** VocabolariodellaCrusca" 136 f^oiturin, t!ie way of tra- velling by 13 Voltaire 335 Voltri 31 W. Wages of labourers 76 Waiters in Italy 265 Washing clothes, in Italy 29^ Whigs, conduct of the ... . 270 Wine in Tuscany 137 at Naples 228 at Monte -Fiascone .. 163 the Falerninn 2 Women of Pistoja 105 at Florence 117 at Acqua-Pendente 157, 159 at Rome 184, 278, 310 at Naples 210 the heavy work done by 289 Y. , Yankees, the SOS " Yankee,'' a term of re- proach in America .... 245 Young, Mr. Arthur . . 101, 359 THE END. 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